History of Wolves

Paul is the four-year-old boy Linda babysits after his family moves into the house across the lake. He is intelligent and inquisitive, with “dark eyes” and “the same orange-blond hair” (31) as his mother, Patra. He has a “breathy way of talking” (33) and has polarizing emotions. He enjoys creating things, pretending, and, most of all, puzzles. When Linda begins to look after him, she teaches him about surviving in the woods—how to gather water, what berries he can’t eat, and how to avoid bears. He enjoys these activities, but tires easily, often reddening and panting. Paul is headstrong, pushing against Linda when he disagrees but also gentle and kind. He is fearful of almost everything, from ducklings to deer, but never wary of humans. 

When it comes to Patra, Paul is “clingy” and “possessive” (61), whining and grabbing at her to maintain her attention. Patra adores Paul and cares for him devotedly in all but one serious way. Paul desperately needs the help of a medical professional; his ill health manifests through his ashen skin and sudden vomiting, but his Christian Scientist parents read to him and clean the house rather than taking Paul to the hospital. 

Paul soon dies of cerebral edema, when the “brain swells and presses outward against the skill” (142). He had been untreated for diabetic ketoacidosis, a condition that would have been relatively easy to care for. Paul’s death is especially tragic because of how preventable it could have been. The novel uses Paul’s situation to explore guilt and complicity, particularly examining the responsibility of the onlooker. In this way, Paul is the epitome of innocence; hardly formed and guiltless, his caregivers failed him. Through Paul, Fridlund engages with the issues of dogma, culpability, and regret.

Patra is Paul’s mother. She grew up as the youngest of five, “by almost a decade” (217), just outside Milwaukee. She spent her childhood surrounded by adults, her siblings having teenage children of their own and her mother bringing her to her classes and research throughout her PhD candidacy and tenured teaching position. Clearly bright, Patra finished high school a year early and attended the University of Chicago, where she took Leo’s class her junior year. They were married the same week she graduated and, a year later, Paul was born. Patra was resistant at first to Leo’s religion, but quickly adopted the practices of Christian Science after Paul was born healthy. In many ways, Patra is a devoted and loving mother; she took Paul to classes as an infant and toddler and dedicated all of her energy to giving him a happy childhood. However, despite her own suspicions about Paul’s declining health, Patra refuses meaningful medical attention. When her worry gets the best of her, Leo advises them to spend some time away, and they temporarily move into the lake house. 

In Loose River, Patra is an outsider, which is part of the reason Linda feels drawn to her. Patra, too, spends most of her time in isolation, one only broken by Linda’s occasional presence and the return of her husband, Leo. She possesses a “disorganized but formidable determination” (194). She is intelligent and driven and spends her days caring for Paul or editing Leo’s manuscript. Around Leo, Patra transforms; she becomes “deferential” to him, “but also charged somehow, confident she could draw his attention if she wanted it” (145). She is simultaneously submissive and powerful; she enjoys small levels of influence in her household, but she mostly defers to Leo and his judgement. More than anything, Patra needs “someone to watch her and approve” (194). Having spent her childhood overlooked by her family of adults, and then adulthood serving as a wife and a mother despite her intellectual pursuits, Patra finds solace in Linda’s attention. 

Despite how much she cherishes Paul, Patra is complicit in—if not outright guilty of—his death. There are many signs that she understands the severity of Paul’s illness, but she actively fights against her urges to intervene. The novel employs her character to examine the varying levels of complicity and guilt by creating a loving mother whose one failing results in the death of her child. The loss profoundly affects Patra, but instead of accepting her role in the blame, she turns it out toward others. Rather than growing from the experience and admitting to her guilt, Patra relies further on Christian Science. Through Patra, Fridlund explores the complicated nature of human evil by exploring the difference between thought and action.