By David Ebershoff
Author, "The 19th Wife"



The other day a reporter called to ask me what it is about polygamy that continues to fascinate Americans. This is a question I asked myself a number of times when I was writing "The 19th Wife," and it's one I asked numerous people while conducting my research for the book. What is it about polygamy that makes it hard for so many of us to look away?

On the surface, of course, there is the titillation factor: one man, many women — how exactly does that work? The romantic lives of others have interested human beings since, well, the beginning of time. But as polygamy's supporters will quickly tell you, plural marriage isn't a matter of sex, although a more accurate statement would be that it is isn't merely a matter of sex. Titillation, by its very nature, is shallow and thus cannot explain our ongoing interest in American polygamy.

No, our fascination, which goes back to the early days of Mormon polygamy in the mid-19th century and continues through today, is much more complex, because polygamy presses on some core American values. By that I mean we, as a country, fundamentally believe in the right of religious freedom, the right to privacy, the right of free association and the right of the individual to pursue his or her own definition of happiness and the American dream. But polygamy, which raises uncomfortable questions about women, children and the nature of family, forces us to ask: Are there limits to those rights and, if so, what are they and who gets to set them?

These are intricate questions for Americans to ponder because they rub against many of our cherished notions of personal liberty. They help explain why the question of polygamy has troubled the American consciousness for more than 150 years. If you go back and look at the newspaper articles and congressional records from the 1870s and 1880s, you'll find that the media and politicians responded to polygamy in a way not altogether dissimilar to today. This tells me that we, as a country, have not advanced very far in our thinking of this vexing issue. This also tells me that the question of polygamy — does an adult woman have the right to share her life with a man and 18 other women? — is not going away anytime soon.

As a writer, I'm drawn to stories of ambiguity. I'm interested in characters who defy easy definition. I believe this is what appeals to readers and viewers as well. We all love a book or a movie that leaves us thinking about the characters and their choices. We want to read about or watch people whose actions and decisions aren't predictable or even agreeable. In the final scenes of "The 19th Wife" (don't worry, I wouldn't dare give it away), Jordan's mom, BeckyLyn, makes a decision that leaves many readers (and now viewers) pondering all of her choices. The ambiguity of her situation holds our attention. The moral complexity gives us a lot to think about. These questions engage us emotionally and intellectually, and we find pleasure in turning them over and looking at them in different ways, knowing there is no one right answer. It's what makes you pick up the phone or tweet after you've read a good book or seen a good movie — you want to discuss it and share it and hear others' points of view. I believe this ambiguity of what is right (and not just what is right for you) helps answer that reporter's question — why polygamy remains a fascinating, and unresolved, story of America and our values.