Source of book: I own this.
It has been far too long since I read some Cather - before I
started this blog, actually. My Antonia
was thoroughly enjoyable, so I really should have gone back and read another of
her books. Too many things to read, too little time.
O Pioneers was
Cather’s first real hit. She had written a few short stories, mostly about
“bohemian” young people in the city. She didn’t really find her voice until she
went back to her roots and wrote about her immigrant pioneer ancestors and the
communities she grew up in. The genesis of O
Pioneers was a set of three short stories, which were eventually blended
into a single narrative to make the book. In some places, the seams still show
just a little, and having read My Antonia,
I think that this book shows some signs of being a first novel. That is not to
say it is bad, just that it isn’t as polished as her later books.
As soon as I started it, I realized that I had read the
first chapter back in high school as part of American Literature. (Along with a
chapter from So Big by Edna Ferber.)
It is that iconic scene with Emil and his cat, and his first introduction to Marie,
which will turn out to be all too fateful.
The true hero of the book is Alexandra, the big sister who
is competent, visionary, and has a deep love for the land. Soon after this
opening scene, their father dies, and the kids (well, Alexandra is in her 20s)
and mom are left to fend for themselves. As drought forces other neighbors to
leave, she sees the potential and scrapes together enough to buy several other
farms. When the story resumes later, we find that she has prospered. Two of her
brothers are not thrilled with this, even though they too have gained from her
efforts. Emil, in the meantime, is in love with Marie - who is unhappily
married to another man.
Alexandra remains alone as she grows older. She has a thing
for Carl Lindstrom, who left with his family years ago. When he returns for a
visit, they have chemistry, but he has nothing financial to offer her. This
freaks out the brothers, who think that “the land should stay in the family.”
Meaning they should get it rather
than Carl. Because a married woman doesn’t count as a person, obviously.
Oscar spoke up solemnly, “The property
of a family really belongs to the men of the family, no matter about the title.
If anything goes wrong, it’s the men that are held responsible.”
The utter disrespect Oscar and Lou have for their sister is
astounding. They bring up that she didn’t do the level of fieldwork they did -
as if she just sat around. She certainly did not, any more than my farming
pioneer ancestors did. If anything, she probably outworked them. It is clear
enough that she was the real brains behind the success anyway, and that seems
to rankle their egos.
The book ends with both a tragedy and a positive ending. In
essence, the circumstances of the land and of love affect different characters
in unique ways. Some, like Alexandra, thrive in the task of taming and working
the land. Others, like her brothers, succeed, but do not thrive in any true
sense. Others, like the violent and morose Frank Shabata, become embittered by
both the land and love.
Still others, like the eccentric Ivar, who understands the
land instinctively, and protects the wild birds which visit his farm, exist as
part of the land as much as anything.
It’s not original with me, but I agree that Cather uses
groups of three throughout the book, reflecting the three threads of the story.
In particular, there are three types of love and lovers. Emil and Marie have a
destructive passion that cannot last, but only destroys. Two of the farmhands
have a love that is full of possessiveness and fear - it is based on roles and
patriarchy, not mutuality. Finally, there is the love of Carl and Alexandra,
that lasts in the face of difficult circumstances. I particularly enjoyed the
way this love story was written. Despite their feelings, circumstances keep
them apart until Alexandra is nearly 50. Yes, you read that right. A middle
aged romance where the author assumes that passion is as genuine as it is for
younger people. But it is also counter to expectations. Alexandra is a bit
older than Carl, and she is far wealthier. Carl isn’t a gold digger by any
measure, however. Their mutual love and respect for each other is delightful.
In contrast is the toxic marriage of Frank and Marie. He had
a woman who loved him, and he completely poisoned the relationship. By the time
the narrative introduces him, he is a jealous, controlling wreck. An extended
quote is fantastic:
Frank's case was all the more painful
because he had no one in particular to fix his jealousy upon. Sometimes he could
have thanked the man who would bring him evidence against his wife. He had
discharged a good farm-boy, Jan Smirka, because he thought Marie was fond of
him; but she had not seemed to miss Jan when he was gone, and she had been just
as kind to the next boy. The farm-hands would always do anything for Marie;
Frank couldn't find one so surly that he would not make an effort to please
her. At the bottom of his heart Frank knew well enough that if he could once
give up his grudge, his wife would come back to him. But he could never in the
world do that. The grudge was fundamental. Perhaps he could not have given it
up if he had tried. Perhaps he got more satisfaction out of feeling himself
abused than he would have got out of being loved. If he could once have made
Marie thoroughly unhappy, he might have relented and raised her from the dust.
But she had never humbled herself. In the first days of their love she had been
his slave; she had admired him abandonedly. But the moment he began to bully
her and to be unjust, she began to draw away; at first in tearful amazement,
then in quiet, unspoken disgust. The distance between them had widened and
hardened. It no longer contracted and brought them suddenly together. The spark
of her life went somewhere else, and he was always watching to surprise it. He
knew that somewhere she must get a feeling to live upon, for she was not a
woman who could live without loving. He wanted to prove to himself the wrong he
felt. What did she hide in her heart? Where did it go? Even Frank had his
churlish delicacies; he never reminded her of how much she had once loved him.
For that Marie was grateful to him.
While Marie bears some blame for cheating, Frank destroyed
the marriage long before. In our own time, she likely would have left him years
ago - they had no children, so why not? But back in the 1800s, this wasn’t an
option for her.
Speaking of the past, this book is to a degree about my past. My family’s past. The Bergesons
- Alexandra and family - are part of the same great migration that my own
family participated in. They are Swedish, like my paternal grandfather and his
family, and came to the Great Plains to farm
under the Homestead Act. The branches of my family settled in Montana
and Kansas - the story is set in between, in Nebraska.
There, like in the book, there were multiple communities
within the greater community. The Swedes. The French. The Germans (again, my
ancestors). The Czechs. What is particularly enlightening about the stories in
this book is that they accurately reflect the immigrant experience. A common
complaint by xenophobes today is that “the new immigrants aren’t assimilating.”
But this charge was leveled at past immigrants too - particularly the Irish,
but also the Swedes, and the Germans, and….
But guess what? Things were about the same back then. As
Cather tells it, the first generation didn’t learn English. Their native
languages were spoken at home, church, and at stores owned by the same language
groups. The second generation (Emil and Alexandra, for example) was bilingual,
speaking Swedish at home, and English at school and everywhere else. By the
third generation, Swedish was largely forgotten.
That is exactly
how it was with my ancestors. My great-great grandparents spoke Swedish or
German, respectively, and never really learned English. My great-grandparents
(one of which I got to know a little) could still speak a bit of the “old
country,” while my grandparents had completely forgotten what little they once
knew. Thus it is with today’s immigrants. The real “assimilation” issue is that
immigrants from Latin America or Africa can’t
just blend in with the whites like my ancestors eventually did with the other
European Americans. Even
the Irish were eventually accepted as “white,” rather than “white n----rs” as
they used to be called.
I found this book to be thoroughly enjoyable. I really do
need to read more Cather. I like her gentle perspective, and keen perception of
human nature. This book is a good place to start, but definitely read My Antonia as well.
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