The Plague Of Doves

Seraph Milk is Evelina’s grandfather, or Mooshum. He is the mischievous storyteller who imparts wisdom upon the younger generations through stories. As a young child, Seraph’s older half-brother attempts to cajole Seraph into going into the clergy, but Seraph falls in love when he sees Junesse and they run away together to be married. Seraph’s upper half of his left ear is missing, although Seraph gives many possible stories as to how this happened. Seraph lives to be more than 100 years old and becomes the patriarch of Evelina’s family, the relativity of narrative embodied within his character. More than anything, Seraph greatly enjoys harassing the local clergy and religious members. After his brother Shamengwa’s death, Seraph seems broken and is, for the first time ever, speechless. But once he hears Father Cassidy deliver Seraph’s own eulogy by mistake, “the old reprobate improved remarkably. His lip drooped open into a smile. He motioned those around us ready to stand up and protest that he was happy to listen” (211). Seraph is not necessarily concerned with the truth, either in his own stories or in the misplaced eulogy of Father Cassidy, for example. Rather, Seraph represents the importance of listening. That is, the author uses Seraph to signify the attention that must be given to each perspective, regardless of any adherence to absolute truth. 

Seraph’s younger brother, Shamengwa, is “a violin player […] who was as neat and dignified as Mooshum was happily disordered and profane. Except for his folded up arm, Shamengwa was stark elegance. The last of their generation, these two enjoyed each other’s company in spite of their differences” (22). The confluence of Seraph and Shamengwa together indicate balance in relationships, which the author presents throughout the novel. Shamengwa represents peace to Seraph’s storm, perhaps as a result of Shamengwa’s association with the healing power of music. Shamengwa is rarely seen without his violin, which saved him from a youth of neglect after Seraph went away. As such, Shamengwa “treated his instrument with the reverence we accord our drums, which are considered living beings and require from us food, water, shelter, and love” (197). Just as Seraph is associated with the blasphemous, Shamengwa represents the spiritual, in inverse relationship to their names. ‘Seraph’ means ‘angelic’ in English, and ‘shamengua’ means butterfly in Metis, even though the root of ‘shamengua’ is ‘shaman,’ meaning spiritual leader. However, Shamengwa represents not the spirituality of religion but rather that of music. His musical abilities and his careful attention to grooming are presented as acts of rebellion: the first against the alienating silence of his childhood house and the second against the white people who seek to destroy him. As a result, Shamengwa represents passive resistance through meaningful and symbolic acts of rebellion, which the author indicates may be more effective than Seraph railing against the inhumanity of the Catholic Church. Importantly though, both brothers represent two sides of the same coin: rebellion against encroaching white culture. 

Antone represents the confluence of white and Native American identities in both his profession and his ethnicity. As a judge, Antone works on both sides of the law, a trait that he has inherited from his father. Antone reflects, “We became a family of lawyers who were also tribal members, an unusual combination at the time, but increasingly handy as tribal law and the complications of federal versus state jurisdiction were just beginning to manifest” (115). Because Antone possesses both perspectives, he often seems able to see many sides of arguments. In comparison to Seraph’s relative and usually specific truths, Antone often displays a greater understanding of history that seems rooted in the place itself. Antone believes that this act of healing the historical traumas associated with this place is his calling, even adopting Corwin, the product of one of these crimes. Antone decides, “I do my work. I do my best to make the small decisions well, and I try not to hunger for the great things, for the deeper explanations. For I am sentenced to keep watch over this small patch of earth, to judge its miseries and tell its stories. That is who I am” (217). The author creates Antone as a kind of semi-divine being who knows everything and therefore can make the correct decisions, or at least the decisions that work out in the best interest of community members. The author suggests that Antone possesses a unique ability in that he can actually attain justice; unlike other characters, Antone can mend these often decades-old wounds from which everyone still suffers. Antone believes that stories and judgment illuminate a path towards greater justice. 

Marn Wolde is the child-bride of the local cult leader Billy Peace. She has ghost-like pale skin and seems to have magical powers that Billy seeks to harness towards his own means. Some of these magical powers involve her ability to visualize specific moments in the lives of other people, usually through the power of location. Marn reflects, “I have never been stupid. I have pictures. I can get a picture in my head at any moment, focus it so brilliant and detailed that it seems real. That’s what I do. That’s what my uncle does when he’s just staring” (146). As Warren’s niece, the audience believes Marn to perhaps be afflicted with a similar tendency to her uncle, at least from this context. Marn recognizes this similarity, although she does not understand the problem it may present in the future in regards to manifestations of violence. When she is younger, Marn holds onto these things that make her feel special and unique, like the pictures and her snakes. However, as Marn matures, she realizes that she no longer needs to be unique and would rather just live a normal life with her healthy children. After living with Billy, Marn just wants to feel normal: “I had worked a year and left with no hard feelings, even offers of a raise. It was as though I was a normal person there, any woman, and I needed to feel that now” (164). Marn witnesses the dark side of spiritual calling during her time with Billy. She sees how power, especially religious power, can be incredibly dangerous and end up destroying other people. As such, Marn realizes that she must kill her husband in order to set herself and her children free. In this way, she ends up killing a Peace, just as her uncle, Warren, was responsible for the death of Cuthbert Peace decades before. 

Cordelia is the only surviving child of the Lochren massacre. At first, Cordelia believes that the lynched Native Americans were responsible for her family’s murder and so is incredibly racist towards Native Americans, refusing to treat them. Reflecting on this when she later realizes that Warren killed her family, Cordelia admits “she was known to turn Indians away as patients; it was thought that she was a bigoted person. In truth, she experienced an unsteady weakness in their presence. It seemed beyond her control, as was the other thing. She loved someone far too young for herself, inappropriate in that other way, too, but in his presence her feelings gripped her with the force of unquestionable fate. Or a mad lapse, she now believes” (298). Cordelia falls in love with a much younger Antone but knows she can never truly be with him because of their history. More than anything, Cordelia is an incredibly lonely character, who finds temporary solace in doomed relationships with various men. However, the author suggests that the pain and trauma associated with Cordelia’s infancy affects her for the rest of her life; she carries around the bodies of her family members like anonymous ghosts. As a result, the author indicates that Cordelia will leave the world the same way Cuthbert Peace finds her: alone.