Joyce City, Oklahoma, isn't really a city at all. Despite having a few stores, a school, a community center, and a hotel, it is truly a farming community located in one of the most barren regions of the U.S. during 1934-1935. Dust storms have devastated the land for four years, and in this fifth year of drought, hardly anything has survived. Each year, Billie Jo's father, Bayard, along with other farmers, plants their fall wheat crop, only to see it mostly destroyed by relentless dust storms. Joe De La Flor, a cattleman, struggles to keep his herd alive, feeding them nothing but tumbleweed.

Dust infiltrates absolutely everything, and one of the strengths of Hesse's writing in this novel is her vivid descriptions of the dust's suffocating presence. Chapter after chapter, the constant dust wears down the characters' spirits until a massive storm arrives, burying tractors, animals, and even killing people caught outside. The biblical prophecy of "dust to dust" becomes a literal reality for the characters. Dust has so invaded their bodies that they are on the brink of turning into mere piles of dust, symbolizing death. In her nightmare, which mirrors her reality, Billie Jo describes:

I was coming home
through a howling dust storm,
my lowered face was scrubbed raw by
dirt and wind.
Grit scratched my eyes,
it crunched between my teeth.
Sand chaffed inside my clothes,
against my skin.
Dust crept inside my ears, up my nose,
down my throat.
I shuddered, nasty with dust.

The story alternates between Billie Jo's home—a shack typical of impoverished farmers—her school, the community center where she plays the piano, and various outdoor locations. When she decides to leave home, she hops a boxcar. However, the physical setting is not as significant as Billie Jo's inner consciousness. Her mind acts as a space where characters and events seem to reside. Instead of moving through physical spaces, Billie Jo internalizes them, making it appear as though nearly every scene unfolds within her mind.

Hesse's novel stands out for its literary precedents and innovative techniques, which are among its most compelling features. The most noticeable elements include Hesse's use of sentence structure, line breaks, and chapter divisions. Readers might wonder why this book is categorized as a novel rather than a diary or poem, given that it exhibits characteristics of both forms. Reviewers have referred to it as all three. Its diary-like qualities include the following.

Each entry is dated, and although the specific day of the month isn't provided, it is evident that the events follow a chronological order. The headings for each entry resemble personal tags for recalling the entry rather than chapter titles indicative of a novelistic structure. Fourteen-year-olds typically do not write novels, whereas keeping a diary or journal was common among American teenage girls during those and later decades. Most notably, the line length is short, ending before the edge of the page necessitates it. This suggests that Billie Jo is writing for herself, unconcerned with sentence structure; it may also imply that she wrote her diary in a smaller book, and when published in standard book form, the lines did not extend to the page's edge.

These points strongly support the argument that the form is a diary. However, there are also arguments for it being a novel and reasons why distinguishing between the two is important. True diaries, unlike literary diaries, are not self-conscious and are not written with an audience in mind other than the diary keeper. People usually maintain diaries to express their innermost thoughts and to serve as a reminder of their past in future years. The most famous diary of our century, Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl (1952; see separate entry, Vol. 1), was not intended for others to read. In fact, Anne was terrified that her mother might find it, and even after her father received the diary, he expurgated sections before allowing it to be published.

Billie Jo's "diary" is written with the intention that not only will someone read it, but that a complete stranger will. She explains facts about the community, other people, and herself that would need no explanation in a personal diary. Additionally, and more subjectively (critics disagree on this point), the people who appear in diaries typically have a direct connection with or influence on the diary keeper, especially in a young girl's diary. [Critics often differentiate diaries from journals by the impersonality or distance the narrator has from their subject. Thus, the "Diary" of Samuel Pepys (1660-1669) might more accurately be called his "Journal" because his account of London life is more reportage.] Billie Jo presents people as characters rather than merely referencing them as her own friends.

To accurately interpret the themes of the book, it's important to consider whether it is viewed as a diary or a novel, as this affects the role of the narrator. In diaries, the narrator is typically the person who keeps the diary, and the entries reflect the author's personal impressions. There's no assumption that the entries are factual; instead, they serve as references for understanding emotions. For instance, if the diary keeper writes, "Sandy said such a cruel thing that it made me cry," we don't interpret Sandy's remark as an objective fact of cruelty, but as the writer's emotional reaction. On the other hand, if someone maintains a daily record of recipes or TV programs, that would be considered a journal or log.

Although Billie Jo appears to be keeping a diary, she fits the role of a fictional device known as the "unreliable narrator." This type of narrator seems to tell the truth but actually distorts reality to let the reader see through their perspective. With humorous unreliable narrators like Huckleberry Finn, much of the humor comes from Huck claiming he is doing one thing while readers know he is about to do something else. The term "unreliable" is not a negative criticism; it simply identifies a narrator who may not fully grasp the implications of their own words.

Billie Jo exemplifies such a narrator. For instance, when she mentions that her father left a bucket of kerosene by the stove, she suggests it was intentional. She doesn't explain or understand why he would do this, but she views it as a deliberate act. She doesn't question his negligence (or possible ill intent) in leaving it there, but readers are expected to. We are encouraged to look beyond what the unreliable narrator says to uncover the truth. Anne Frank's diary, in contrast, is never written with such narrative intentions.

This aspect makes Out of the Dust far richer as a novel than as a diary. Hesse's use of diary format and poetic language adds layers of depth. Hesse invites us to delve into Billie Jo's mind in a way that a true diary would not. If it were genuinely a diary, we might sympathize with Billie Jo and wish her well, but we wouldn't be as driven to explore her psychological intricacies.

Another literary precursor to Out of the Dust is episodic fiction, where chapters often seem disconnected from each other. While Out of the Dust does include cause and effect for some events, many chapters, like "Night Bloomer," appear unrelated to the rest. The chapter describes how the cereus cactus thrives and blooms despite the harsh Dust Bowl conditions, symbolizing hope and fleeting beauty. However, this chapter doesn’t link to the main events, and its absence wouldn’t impact the overall story. In tightly plotted novels, omitting a chapter would disrupt the plot, but in episodic fiction, many chapters can be added or removed without significant effect, although some crucial ones must remain.

One of Hesse's most impactful techniques is her use of poetry and poetic devices within the narrative. The short sentences and fragmented lines may resemble a diary, but their primary purpose is poetic. In poetry, the "line" is crafted to highlight specific words or phrases with special meaning, imagery, or sound. Consider a stanza from the chapter "Blame":

The women talked as they
scrubbed death from our house.
I
Stayed in my room
silent on the iron bed,
listening to their voices.

By breaking the first line after "they" and isolating "I" on a separate line, Hesse emphasizes Billie Jo's sense of alienation from those helping her. "They" becomes impersonal, casting the women as antagonists to Billie Jo. Hesse also places verbs/adverbs (scrubbed, stayed, silent, listening) at the beginning of lines and nouns at the end (house, room, bed, voices). Compare this to the lines if arranged differently:

The women talked as they scrubbed
death
from our house. I stayed in my room,
silent on the iron bed, listening to
their voices.

In this version, the women seem more comforting, and the narrator appears lonely but somewhat reassured. The women talk to alleviate the discomfort of cleaning away death, and the narrator hears their voices against her silence. The iron bed is simply part of the room, not a cold, unwelcoming piece of furniture. This rearranged stanza, read more like a complete sentence than fragmented thoughts, portrays a more rational narrator, suggesting a more stable emotional state than Billie Jo's actual staccato narration. Hesse's use of line breaks to evoke emotion and insight into Billie Jo's mind provides another layer of understanding the themes.

Hesse frequently employs traditional poetic techniques such as metaphor and symbolism. In the chapter "Something Lost, Something Gained," she uses direct metaphor (or simile) by likening her mother to tumbleweed and her father to sod. Indirectly, she uses metaphor through the image of the cereus cactus, which blooms courageously at night only to perish with the morning light. Her mother was akin to this flower, destroyed by light and heat, and Hesse implies that her own life might face a similar fate.

The distinction between metaphor and symbol is that a metaphor draws a parallel between two objects, people, or ideas, while a symbol represents an object, person, or idea. Sometimes, metaphor and symbol operate simultaneously but on different levels. The cereus cactus serves as both a metaphor and a symbol. Since this chapter follows shortly after her mother's passing, Billie Jo finds it unbearable to watch the cactus wither and die, as it reminds her of her mother's demise; the petals burning and withering in the sun echo her mother's scorched and withered skin. However, the cactus also symbolizes perseverance, and the night represents a period of nourishment. In the darkness, a thing of extraordinary beauty blooms because it has endured; Billie Jo will too.

Another instance of Hesse's adept use of symbolism is found in the chapter "My Life, or What I Told Louise After the Tenth Time She Came to Dinner," captured in these lines:

On the other shelf Ma's book of poetry
remains.
And the invitation from Aunt Ellis,
or what's left of it.
Daddy and I tore it into strips
to mark the poems we thought Ma
liked best.

After her mother's death, Aunt Ellis invited Billie Jo to move to Lubbock and live with her. This was a clear escape from the Dust Bowl, but Billie Jo knew right away that it wasn't an option she was interested in. She placed the letter on a shelf as a reminder that she had a choice, in case she ever reconsidered. Once Billie Jo and her father reconciled and began to support and forgive each other, the letter lost its significance for Billie Jo's sense of security. She started to tear it up, not in a sudden moment of clarity, but gradually as she felt more secure. The fact that both she and her father tore it into strips adds another layer of symbolic meaning, illustrating their unity. A third level of symbolism is added as the strips are used to mark the poems they believed Ma liked best, symbolizing their attempt to connect with her in death in ways they couldn't in life.

Aside from her mastery in utilizing both fictional and poetic techniques, Hesse also leverages the foundation of Greek drama to amplify the horror in her narrative. In his seminal work "The Poetics," widely regarded as one of the most significant pieces of literary criticism, the Greek philosopher Aristotle detailed the essential elements for a compelling drama. One of his key points was that a noble figure of high status, due to a personal flaw (often arrogance), falls from grace to the lowest depths, and then, through humility, finds the strength to rise again. This concept mirrors the story of Job, although the moral teachings differ.

Billie Jo exemplifies a noble character who, within her context, is highly accomplished. She is the top eighth-grade student in the vast state of Oklahoma and a talented musician. Her destiny is altered by a bucket of kerosene placed in her path. Through a moment of carelessness, she causes her own downfall, directly leading to her mother catching fire. She swiftly descends into suffering, but through immense agony in her lowly state, she learns compassion and forgiveness, enabling her to begin her journey toward redemption. Whether or not the reader identifies this classical premise of high drama, its impact is profound and operates effectively in Out of the Dust just as it does in Oedipus The King or King Lear. Another traditional literary device present is the "four elements": earth, air, fire, and water. When these elements conspire against humanity, tragedy ensues, and the power of "fate" becomes alarmingly evident.

Out of the Dust is a sophisticated, literary piece that contains nothing likely to offend a sensitive reader. The lack of references to God or salvation is not an act of sacrilege but rather an element of Old Testament stoicism that Hesse aims to instill in Bayard. Many facets of community life, including religion, are simply not addressed by Billie Jo. Readers who prioritize the worship of God as fundamental and all-encompassing, particularly regarding redemption and salvation, might find the absence of religious themes objectionable. However, this exclusion is intentional, as it is not part of the narrative Hesse intends to convey. Introducing religion would have introduced a new dimension that could have overshadowed the drama she has crafted.

As a historical depiction of the Great Depression, Hesse effectively illustrates the suffering and entrapment of Dust Bowl farmers and ranchers. She describes the pervasive dust page after page, to the point where it may feel excessive and monotonous to the reader; yet this reflects the reality of the land. If readers are overwhelmed by the seemingly endless descent of dust, they can only imagine how the people felt after enduring five years of drought. Hesse's favorable depiction of federal government aid may seem condescending to those critical of central government today, and they may question whether this aspect was essential to developing and resolving Billie Jo's tragedy.

In the opening pages, Billie Jo adamantly opposes the eradication of rabbits, despite their consumption of the scarce remaining foliage. She particularly objects to clubbing them to death and the sport that is made out of killing them. Hesse does not fully contextualize this stance in terms of Billie Jo's development, except to highlight her youth and innocence at the novel's start. This serves more as a characterization tool than a political statement about animal rights. By the time Joe De La Flor's herd is so starved that government agents must euthanize his cattle to prevent their suffering, Billie Jo comprehends the compassion and necessity of sparing them a slow, painful death. It is likely the attitude of the people who kill animals, rather than the act itself, that she finds offensive.

Hesse's A Time of Angels (1995) shares several connections with Out of the Dust and explores similar themes. In the narrative, fourteen-year-old Hannah Gold and her two sisters are separated from their Jewish parents at the conclusion of World War I in 1918. They move in with their aunt, Tanta Rose, and her friend Vashti, in a tenement apartment located in Boston's West End. To support the household financially, Hannah sells newspapers, but her efforts are met with resentment from Vashti, who dislikes having children around. When a deadly influenza outbreak devastates the family and claims Tanta Rose's life, Hannah flees to Vermont. There, she gradually recovers under the care of an old farmer named Klaus Gerhart, whose German background makes him a target of suspicion in the community. Through her experiences, she learns to navigate themes of death, prejudice, forgiveness, and healing. Similar to Out of the Dust, each chapter of the book is dated, starting from Tuesday, September 10, 1918, and concluding on Wednesday, November 13, 1918.

Hesse, Karen. In Something About the Author. Volume 74. Detroit: Gale Research, 1994, pp. 120-121. This brief entry includes some biographical and publication information, along with a "sidelight" from Hesse discussing early influences on her writing.

Hesse, Karen. Something About the Author: Juvenile Writers Autobiography Series. Volume 25. Detroit: Gale Research, 1998, pp. 117-138. In this volume, Hesse shares warm, intimate reflections on her childhood in Baltimore, her college years, work life, marriage, motherhood, and her journey as an author.

Horn Book 169 (1998). The reviewer describes Out of the Dust: "In first-person free-verse poems, fourteen-year-old Billie Jo Kelby recounts her experiences during the Great Depression in the Oklahoma panhandle. Although Billie Jo's failed attempt to escape the dust bowl nearly gets overshadowed by a series of bleak events, her voice, imbued with longing, vividly captures both a harsh historical period and her family's healing process."

Horn Book 169 (1994). The reviewer comments on Phoenix Rising: "This haunting novel, set in rural Vermont, explores the chilling aftermath of a nuclear disaster. Nyle and her grandmother take in two refugees from near the power plant, and Nyle, who has lost her own mother and grandfather, gradually opens her heart to a fifteen-year-old boy suffering from radiation sickness."

Kirkus Reviews. (September 15, 1997). The reviewer remarks on Out of the Dust: "The poem/novel concludes with only a faint glimmer of hope; there are no tidy endings, but a glimpse of beauty emerging from harsh reality."

Kirkus Reviews. (August 15, 1996). A reviewer discusses The Music of Dolphins: "Mila, whose inner strength has enabled her to develop a dual nature, is portrayed convincingly. In a distinct voice, she recounts her past and present—e.g., 'the sea is a big home where all the time is swimming and all the time is singing and all the time is touching in the big wet.' Changes in type size and style reflect Mila's internal shifts as she oscillates between humanity and the dolphins, discovering a wiser, more comforting society. It's a profound exploration of what makes us human, featuring an unforgettable protagonist."

Lempke, Susan Dove. Review. Booklist (December 1, 1995). Lempke comments on A Time of Angels: "Hesse's careful depiction of time and place (supported by an author's note) gives the novel an authentic feel, despite a slow start and some incidents that seem included merely for historical context. Her characters are richly developed, particularly Klaus and Vashti, and Hannah's struggle between her life in Vermont and the city rings true."

Monks, Merri. Review. Booklist (May 15, 1995). Monks reviews Phoenix Rising: "Hesse introduces significant themes—environmental catastrophe, friendship, first love, loss, and death—in a novel that is fairly accessible. However, the book demands effort from its target audience, as it focuses on character development and has a slow-paced plot."

Anne O'Malley provides a review in Booklist (October 15, 1996). She notes that The Music of Dolphins is successful mainly due to Mila's keen observations, the intriguing stranger-in-a-strange-land theme, and the fascinating concept of the dolphin family. These elements are likely to captivate both elementary and middle school readers.