Literary analysis: Example 2
A Place of Importance: The Influence of Setting in My Ántonia and Absalom, Absalom!
Within Willa Cather's My Ántonia and William Faulkner's Absalom, Absalom!, setting, background, landscape, and location are primary factors in defining America in American fiction. Setting within these texts determines what is America and establishes the American experience perhaps even more so than the characters. In My Ántonia, it is the new freedom of the frontier; within Faulkner's piece, it is the influence of the settled and dying landscape of the post-civil war South. Within both texts, the location directly plays into the lives of the characters - molding them as opposed to the characters molding the land, and consequently, controlling their lives.
Looking first at My Ántonia, we see clear influences of land on the motivations of characters. As literary critic Reginald Dyck notes about the book, "social and economic problems receive little attention" (26). However, issues of the surrounding environment are crucial to the understanding of characters. Jim, for instance, arrives in the Midwest and notes, "I had the feeling that the world was left behind, that we had got over the edge of it, and were outside man's jurisdiction" (Cather 12). Jim even feels "erased, blotted out" (13). From this description, the plains are characterized as otherworldly, unbound by man, a place where the grasp of society does not reach. Coming from an established town in the east, Jim now experiences a changing mindset as he enters this new world - a world that seems to rob his notions of "identity." Here, it is only the individual alone with nature, and in this world, nature dominates, becoming much more important in the relationship with the individual. For it is now the only factor one must come to terms with, and therefore, its influence on the characters is strong, its role in shaping identity is amplified.
We must note that it is the land itself that is the trigger for Jim's reactions and motivations - not the other way around. His initial response is shaped by the landscape itself and is the cause for his projections onto it. His ideas about the land are not isolated in a neutral vacuum. Jim does not define the land. And if he does, then he is simply naming what is already there and active. It is the land itself that begins to influence not only Jim, as we have seen, but virtually all the other characters as well. Regarding the relationship and interaction with the land, critic Saposnik-Noire maintains, "Human characteristics given the land do not act as mere projections by characters onto the land. Although there are projections and introjections made by characters in the book, these are made as if the landscape were a breathing living thing, capable of response" (173).
To further that view, the landscape seems more of a controlling force than Jim leads us to believe. Jim naively discloses, "The new country lay open before me: there were no fences in those days, and I could choose my own way over the grass uplands, trusting the pony to get me home again" (Cather 28). This "trust" is misleading. Although Jim feels he has a newfound freedom (which to a certain degree, is true, since he is loose from the influence and control of city society), he softens the power of this new and foreign land by using such words. In fact, Jim has no choice but to "trust" nature and the setting to which he belongs. Yes, the country "lay[s] open before [him]," but that does not mean Jim holds power over that land. He "trusts" the pony, when in fact he has no other choice. A similar conflict in the reliability of Jim comes in such passages as: "The great land had never looked to me so big and free. If the red grass was full of rattlers, I was equal to them all" (Cather 43). I would argue that Jim is not so equal as he claims to be. In this scene, the death of one snake, he assumes, gives him power over (or at least equates him to) the land. Yet, Jim fails to realize and admit the land is much more than one, old snake. However, it is understandable for Jim to swim in such illusion - a way to cope when he inherently knows that he is powerless in this land. Therefore, any small triumph over his surroundings is seen as a great wielding of power over the country itself.
Frequently personified, this "breathing living" land gives us further understanding of the relationship the characters have with it. We read that "[t]here was so much motion in it; the whole country seemed, somehow, to be running" (Cather 18). The land is personified so intensely that, in fact, one critic mentions that "plot and character are subservient to setting" (Saposnik-Noire 171). Through this personification, the landscape can then come alive, and the characters can in turn have an "interactive, interdependent, and at times symbiotic relationship to nature" (171). Often, if not always, within this novel, the power and dominance reside in the environment as opposed to the characters who occupy and attempt to control it. For example, it is not Mr. Shimerda, Ántonia's father, who holds the power over the family, for even they must bow to the oppression of the prairie winter. They must only work on nature's terms, and therefore, the land they inhabit ultimately shapes them. Saposnik-Noire points out that "in nature's triumph over the will of Peter and Pavel, Jim learns that nature is not simply the source of life and nurture he knows his prairie land to be" (173). Clearly, Jim realizes that nature is an active force, not only in positive terms of growth and fertility, but as a destructive force as well. That force is the characteristic of the environment that enables it to shape the lives of the characters. It is at once a source of strength, and also a source of weakness. Through this tension, the characters rely on it, but then are also forced to submit to its terms. Therefore, no matter what the experience at the moment, nature always has the hand in power.
Indeed, the environment, including the weather, is clearly personified and holds a large degree of power over the characters. "Winter came down savagely over a little town on the prairie" (Cather 139). Jim "was convinced that man's strongest antagonist is the cold" (Cather 57). In this passage, the weather is literally an "antagonist," a character within the story, and therefore, responsible for how the character act and respond. And in their actions and responses, they are ultimately shaped according to the circumstances of environment. Winter is even called the "reality" and "truth" (Cather 139-140).
This reality and truth of not only the weather, but of the landscape as well, has deep psychological influences on many of the characters. For example, "Cutter often threatened to chop down the cedar trees which half-buried the house. His wife declared she would leave him if she were stripped of the ‘privacy' which she felt these trees afforded her" (Cather 170). This passage seems to suggest that life on the plains offers freedom, yet a certain amount of "openness" and lack of privacy. It's ironic, but this seems to suggest the crowded city offers more opportunity to remain hidden among the masses than the wide-open, empty space of the prairie. Therefore, Mrs. Cutter values the few trees, which shade the house and offer some sense of protection from the world. Again, the landscape here is highly influential in regards to what certain individuals value - in this case, it's a need for privacy, which seems counterintuitive to the freedom the plains offers.
Since nature holds such power-psychologically and physically- it is expected that the main character be virtually fused with the idea and power of the landscape itself, since they have no choice but to be shaped and molded by it. Ántonia, especially, is virtually forced to shape herself in accordance to the land. In fact, "trough Ántonia, Cather celebrates the pioneer values: determination, love of the land, and human rather than materialistic concerns" (Dyck 28). Cather does this, by merging Ántonia with the land itself, so that they are one in the same. Saposnik-Noire notes "she becomes merged with the land, identified with it in such a way that in Jim's mind she is the land" (177). Also, "Ántonia's selfhood is carved out of the prairie" (Saposnik-Noire 178). Clearly, Ántonia becomes the land. But while she argues that "Ántonia gives herself to the land and merges with it" (178), I think Saposnik-Noire's word choice fails to convey the true essence of the power residing within the landscape. The idea of "giving one's self over" is a false notion in this case. Rather, I would argue, it resembles more of a submission of will. The author's word, "gives," connotates ideas of choice, when clearly, Ántonia has little, if any. She is a slave to the land and she "gives herself" not because she chooses to, but because she must to survive. The land is too powerful for choice. If the land gave the characters choice, then the land would not wield the influence that it possesses within the prose of Cather.
Cather continues to further develop the relationship between Ántonia and the land she inhabits. "Tony was barefooted, and she shivered in her cotton dress and was comfortable only when we were tucked down on the baked earth, in the full blaze of the sun" (Cather 36). It seems her true place is the land. In fact, the land seems to design her destiny. "I ain't got time to learn. I can work like mans now... School is all right for little boys. I help make this land one good farm" (Cather 100). She works the land, mostly, because she has no choice. So by this fate, Ántonia becomes " the land" because the land has made it so.
However powerful the land truly is, it is this power that attracts the admiration of Jim. Such romanticism is seen most explicitly when he witnesses the plow against the sun. it is important to realize that "the plow is the symbol of the pioneer on the plains" (Saposnik-Noire 175). Although a simple image in reality and symbol, Jim is taken by this image. Suddenly, and yet all along, he finds this moment to be beyond beauty and wonder. In this scene, we see Jim's romanticized view of the mundane and harsh life on the prairie; clearly, he idealizes the life of the pioneer. If we follow this, then Jim most likely loves Ántonia because she is identified and inseparable from his idea of the prairie. Ántonia is a true prairie woman, works with her hands in the land, and in turn, becomes the land. He only loves Ántonia because he first loves the prairie. Clearly, setting and nature are the root of Jim's projections and behaviors, especially towards Ántonia. His reaction towards her is merely an extension of his reaction to the prairie. Jim ultimately leaves the prairie, as Dyck points out, "because he has no place there" (28). Note, however, it is not Jim who decides where he belongs and where he does not. It is the land that defines us. The land is unwavering, and if Jim finds he doesn't belong, then Jim can do little to change that. The land has spoken, and has ultimately left Jim behind. He must move out of the land not merely because he wishes to (since he loves it), but because the land has caused him to wish for this, and therefore, the land directs the lives and motivations of the characters. As we have noted before, Ántonia is inseparable from the idea of the land she inhabits. Therefore, if "Ántonia's life judges Jims" (28), which Dyck points out, then clearly the land is responsible for judging and defining Jim and not the other way around. While we would tend to believe that man defines his surroundings, it seems quite clear that in truth, it is the surroundings that define man.
When Jim moves back to town, "his love of country keeps him from belonging to that life" (Dyck 28) as well. Saposnik-Noire similarly points out "Jim is forever split between two worlds, the prairie and the city" (178). While "Ántonia can embrace and find harmony with the plains" (Dyck 35), Jim, on the other hand, cannot. Although one might say he defines himself by two worlds, it would be more accurate to say two worlds define Jim, and this conflicting definition is fundamental to the identity of Jim.
Landscape influence on character seems to affect others outside the main characters, which ultimately makes the influence of the environment that much stronger. In regards to the Shimerdas' cornfields, or Mr. Bushy's, but the world's cornfields; that their yield would be one of the great economic facts, like the wheat crop of Russia, which underlie all the activities of men, in peace or war" (Cather 111). It's clear from this passage the influence of the land, not only on the characters in the novel, but on the rest of the world. In fact, the land before them "underlie[s] all the activities of men," regardless of time and circumstance. And if the land has impact on the lives of others outside the town, then for the inhabitants of the town, this land is everything, and influences every aspect of their lives. They work in the shadow of the land because the land holds true sway. Without the land, the characters would cease to be the characters they believe themselves to be now.
And this is exactly what the characters in Faulkner's Absalom, Absalom! are faced with - defining themselves without the land they once knew. Within this novel, similar themes are uncovered as were uncovered in My Ántonia, yet the setting has changed. No longer do we find ourselves on a new and untouched prairie, but now we enter an established, old, and now-dying South. Yet, whether it be on the new plains or in the old South, influence of place and setting are equal in degree. However, the effects of the altered landscape differ between characters identifying with a land being born, and those identifying with a land submitting to death. Nowhere in the novel is this idea of identity / land more clear than in the land known as Sutpen's Hundred. Thomas Sutpen seems determined to remake the land that made him. So inseparable are the ideas of Sutpen as a man, and Sutpen's land, that one can even refer to Sutpen's Hundred as Sutpen himself.
To examine this, we must first understand that within the old South, land and values are closely tied. So with the loss of the Civil War, to an extent, both of these were lost. The war marked the end, not only to the power of land guarded by great plantations, but also the ideas and values associated with such plantations. Plantations only existed because of the ideals from where they were built. So with the death of those ideals, so follows the death of the plantations and the land they ruled. Before the war, no black individual could own land (just as no black had any individual rights or recognized identity). Land, virtually, was entirely defined by the white landowners who also defined the values of "Southern Culture." "Blacks were often denied access to material possessions on the basis of their lack of ideological possessions" (Saunders 753). So in order to keep white privilege, whites kept the practice and ideology that the black man is inferior, and therefore, has no right to land because he has no dominion over his own mind. This subjection of the black mind resulted in physical differences in work status defined by whites that owned the land. Therefore, "Black farmers... ‘not only worked the white man's land but,' according to Woodward, ‘worked it with a white man's plow drawn by a white man's mule' "(Saunders 753). So with the death of the Southern ideals via the Civil War, so came the death of the power of land, and with it, the idea of a strong identity. Southern culture (established on Southern land) had defined itself by what it was not (the black slaves). So with the death of slavery, came the death of Southern-white identity. Clearly, land, environment, and setting have enormous influence on character and how the South was defined.
In Saunders' essay, this changing identity and value are seen through "transfer of property, the redistribution of possessions, and the remapping of territorial boundaries. These transfers and redistributions include the redistribution of value, knowledge, and identity" (732). The land, and what becomes of it, is an integral part of what becomes of the individual since it is clear that the land defines the individual. So when Sutpen's Hundred is transferred to the state by the end of the novel, the idea of Thomas Sutpen as a character is forever altered-now the identity and the estate are one in the same.
"Material and ideological property are not, of course, unrelated; on the contrary, they are inevitably collusive because possessions function as signs. Material property, that is to say, is often the procurer, and guardian, of ideological property" (Saunders 733). Clearly then, Sutpen's material property is merely an extension and representation of his ideological property. The actual Sutpen's Hundred is a physical extension of the idea of what Sutpen's Hundred really is. Consider, for a moment, the loss of the material property. With the loss of such property, the ideological property would be quick to follow, since the ideological cannot stand without the realized and materialized entity. Therefore, without the land to realize the idea, the idea ceases to exist (or if not ceases to exist, at least becomes powerless and unrealized). Thus, the physical location of land is the determining and base factor in ideology, especially the ideology we see in the South and even more so, the ideology of Sutpen himself.
Establishing this idea of land / identity, critic Rebecca Saunders points out:
In Absalom, the catastrophe of the Civil War effects transfers of real property that are simultaneous redistributions of identity: landowner becomes merchant, slave-holding heiress becomes land-lord employer, slave becomes freedperson, and (in the reverberations of that catastrophe a generation later) a college boy becomes inadvertent plenipotentiary of the South. (734)
In the novel, a passage reads regarding returning soldiers, "returned now to a ruined land, not the same men who had marched away but transformed" (Faulkner 126). The loss of ideals inseparable from the ownership of land (and slaves) results in the detrimental effects regarding the notion of identity. Saunders states that:
As a man's land has become other, or become the property of another, so has the man become other to his former self. Likewise, when Sutpen returns from war, he, like the ruined fields, fallen fences, and crumbling walls of his property, has become other, indeed has become alien to his own physical being. (736).
And just as Sutpen is forced to rebuild his land, so is he forced to rebuild himself-the part in him that has fallen along with the fences of his Hundred.
As we can see, it's clear that setting, landscape, nature, and environment play fundamental roles in shaping the lives of the characters in My Ántonia and Absalom, Absalom! Not only are our characters physically connected to the environment in which they live, but they are also psychologically connected to the settings they inhabit. It's clear that the environment is by no means a neutral backdrop. In fact, setting and nature become literal characters-interacting with and shaping the lives of the human characters on levels to which we have only begun to discover. In Dyck's comment about the closing lines of My Ántonia, he states that Jim and Ántonia share the belief that "early life has shaped all they have done"(34). If this is indeed true, then we can say that the land in turn shaped this early life. If we once thought that we were isolated to the individuals that make up a society, then what happens to that idea of society when we begin to understand the influence nature and place has on such society? We must realize that "where we are" is just as important as our notion of "who we are," often because there is little difference between the two.
Works Cited
Cather, Willa. My Ántonia. 1918. New York: Signet Classics, 1994.
Dyck, Reginald. "Revisiting and Revising The West: Willa Cather's My Ántonia and Wright Morris' Plains Song" Modern Fiction Studies 36.1 (Spring 1990): 25-37.
Faulkner, William. Absalom, Absalom! 1936. New York: Random House, 1986.
Saposnik-Noire, Shelley. "The Silent Protagonist: the Unifying Presence of Landscape in Willa Cather's My Ántonia" The Midwest Quarterly 31.2 (Winter 1990): 171-79.
Saunders, Rebecca. "On Lamentation and Redistribution of Possessions: Faulkner's Absalom, Absalom! and The New South" Modern Fiction Studies 42.4 (Winter 1996): 730-62.
Questions
- Compare and contrast this literary analysis to the first one. Discuss the strengths and weaknesses of each argument. Where do you feel the author of this text is most convincing? Where was the other author most convincing?
- Consider the contribution of the secondary sources to this literary analysis. What are the advantages and disadvantages of supporting your argument this way?
- Note the multiple ways that the author here integrates the literary criticism within his text. Locate three or four different instances and discuss how he interweaves the material. Which seems to be most effective? Is it valuable to use multiple strategies? If so, why?