Sexuality/Sensuality in Porter and O'Connor

I have started researching various critical essays/articles for this week but I still have a lot to do. I am thinking about writing on how sexuality/sensuality is expressed in various stories. I am also interested in how different female characters are sexualized. For example the protagonist in "Flowering Judas," the Maria Rosa in "Maria Concepcion," Hulga in "Good Country People," one of the German daughters in "Holiday", and Amy in "Old Mortality". I am wondering whether or not to do a comparison of these concepts as portrayed by Porter versus O'Connor. I think that Porter takes a much more sensual approach in these stories, while O'Conner seems to distort sexuality. I am interested in the lack of sexuality in most of the short stories. The two authors seem much more interested with violence than they do with senusuality/sexuality, which I find strange because of their experience with different men. I have found two websites that list various criticism on the two authors and I have made a list of some that might relate to my topic. I will need to research if the absense is due to sexuality being a taboo topic at the time. Also, another direction that I might be headed in is the relation of sensuality to individuals that are considered to be the Other (ie: Mexico stories/German daughter/physically handicapped). As I said in class, I need to head to the library to seek out the actual essays and to do more research.

The Portrayal of the Individual

Within the works of both Porter and O'Connor I am very interested in their portrayals of sexuality and personal identity. (I may focus more on identity if sexuality seems to be too much of a stretch). Anyhow, I think I would like to look at the main characters of several of Porter and O'Connor's works by using Freudian and Lacanian theories. It's just an idea at this point, however.

Research Topic

I am really interesting in the way Porter connects family relationships, mainly those between parent and child, with silence. I’m not quite sure which direction I was to take this, but I have noticed that the undefined character is always involved with a story concerning a dysfunctional family. “He” and “Holiday” both contain children who do not have a voice. And both of these children live with a family that doesn’t understand them.

Even though the plots of these two stories center around silent characters, their voices are heard through their actions of listening and doing. Although they are silent, they communicate a lot and we as readers tend to know the silent characters more than the others people in the story.

Research

I think I want to focus on gender within the stories and how the gender roles can be traditional and how many times they are reversed like in "Pale Horse Pale Rider". I'm also very interested in how Porter portrays women in her stories. I always feel like many of her female characters are submissive like in "Magic " and "Theft". I'm interested to find out why Porter has these women letting men and even sometimes women control them.

I'm pretty sure I wanna stick to Porter and her ideas of women specifically how the female charaters tend to lose their narrative voice they become submissive and lose themselves to men and other women's criticism.

Some works I'm interested in pursuing this topic with include:

Magic

Theft

Maria Concepcion

Flowering Judas

The Martyr

Pale Horse

Old Mortality

I also went to the library and checked out some books on Katherine Anne Porter such as:

Katherine Anne Porter/ A life the revised edition

The Ambivalent Art of Katherine Anne Porter

Feminie Consciousness in Katherine Anne Porter

and a couple others

In these books I'm looking for reason to why she allows these female characters to become these empty vessels within her work rather than taking the apart and using them as a tool to present postive ideas about women. I also want to look at Katherine Anne Porter as a female writer of the time and how her female characters and her relate whether the Katherine Anne Porter the person, the Katherine Anne Porter the letters and the Katherine Anne Porter in her writings can co-exist. Also the southern influence and if that is the reason for her contradictory lifestyle and writing. I guess I'm just interested in the fact that she seems to be a feminist writer but her female characters do not seem to value feminist ideals.

The Exotic Other

I'm really interested in how Porter and O'Connor write about the other. Porter especially likes to make her other exotic, especially in the Mexico stories. Even though it seems a lot of times that she is elevating them, she really is putting them down by trying to set them apart from every one else. Either way, they are seen as something separate and different from everyone else.

O'Connor kind of does something similar to this, but it is more subtle. Her representation of black characters are usually protagonists, but they are always seen lower than everyone else. The other is generally scary, like the displaced person, or the blacks in the city, in Artificial Nigger.

I want to take a closer look at how writing about the other as an outsider affects the character. Do the authors do them justice or just contributing to separate them? Is this offensive? How do the "other" view these stories?

Research:the body/disability

I think I'd like to focus my paper on the function of the body in both O'Connor and Porter. In particular, I want to talk about the ways in which mental/physical disability is represented in "He" "The Violent Bear it Away" and "The Life you Save May be Your Own." I'm interested in how these stories present disabled persons as communicative blocks between non-disabled characters, as well as focal points for the attention/anxieties of family and community. In O'Connor's work I'm particularly interested in exploring the relationship between disability and sin/innocence, grace, and redemption.

As a balance/contrast I'd also like to examine the function of the "dying" body as presented in "The jilting of Granny weatherall" "The enduring chill" and "pale horse, Pale rider" in relation to the self and the healthy community. I know this is a bit vague but it makes perfect sense in my head... I'm thinking I'll use Julia Kristeva's theory of abjection to some extent, as in these stories it seems clear that handicapped persons are manifestations of the abject to their communities. For instance, in "He", the boy is seen as a mark of his families "low" status; his abjection infects those around him and so eventually he is sent away, the abject sent into the sewers. This is of course a repellant worldview to me but I think it exists in these stories. I've also found an article by Nicole Markotic from Disability Studies Quarterly called, "Re/presenting disability and illness: Foucault and Two 20th Century Fictions" that discusses Foucaults theories on institutionalized medicine, illness, and the body in relation to "Good Country People" It discusses the moral/social stigma on Joy/Hulga and her mother, though the argument is broad and easily applicable elsewhere I think.

Research Thoughts

I've decided to explore more on the theme of "betrayal." The text that finalized my choice was Good Country People. Beyond the "Grotesque" aspect, I felt more for Hulga in the sense of betrayal. This has been an ongoing theme throughout our readings, and I would like to look into not only the concept of betrayal, but the reasoning behind it, and the outcome of it. The works that I would like to revisit are, Good Country People, The Artificial Nigger, He, Flowering Judas, and The Life You Save May be Your Own.

What I've noticed throughout the course of our readings is that I, more-often than not, wonder about the characters' lives after the story is over. When the aspect of betrayal is involved, I especially wonder how the characters handle the situations of deception... and beyond that, I wonder how each event may effect their lives beyond the stories' conclusion. We often come to class and begin with an attitude/feeling of "Wow. What can we even say about what we just read?" This reaction has often branched from an act of betrayal from one of the given characters. I'd like to explore not only how the betrayal makes the readers feel, but also how the characters who have been betrayed may have possibly ended up. We are frequently left hanging, and I think it would be interesting to dig deeper into the characters, and figure out/speculate how they would handle the various acts of betrayal/abandonment. In addition, after reading some of Porter's and O'Connor's letters, I am intrigued by how much of their stories actually reflect their own lives. We have seen many reoccurring themes in both of their works, and it is obvious that the given themes/events reflect both authors' lives, but I wonder how much of their material mirrors their own experiences?

Paper direction

I'd like to continue to examine Silence--the writer's technique for creating silence, and the purposes for which silence is employed. Specifically, I will continue to examine the significance of certain types of communication and/or the lack thereof, focusing on Porter's "Holiday."
I used Google Scholar to search under the terms "Katherine Anne Porter" and "Silence," and turned up some interesting material. There is a citation for an article by BW Jorgensen ("The Other Side of Silence")--if you click on "Cited by 3," you'll find yourself linked to an article by Carolyn Harper called "Silent Voices: Modes of Communication in Katherine Anne Porter's 'He' and 'Holiday.'" This article discusses the ways in which the inability to communicate dehumanizes members of the family unit: while the relationship between humans and nature is teased out in both stories, the figures of Him and Ottilie represent real breaks into an animalistic existence forced on them by their families.

I also have to get my hands on the following:

Stout, Janis P. "Strategies of Reticence" (in Jane Austen, KAP, Joan Didion, book)
MK Fornataro-Neil. "Constructed Narratives and Writing Identity in the Fiction of KAP"
in 'Twentieth Century Literature,' 1998. (article).

research focus thus far

As of now I am really interested in further researching geography in these stories. I see this as sort of a two-fold topic: geographical setting as agency moving the plot, theme, etc. in a particular direction. Secondly, there is somewhat of a binary opposition positied by both authors concerning place. As we've talked about in class, this is usually structured in terms of the city v. the country, but I think it can also be put as home/the familiar v. foreign land/the Other.

If we're speaking of binaries, which might each author be favoring and why? What might the center of such a structure be? I intend to delve into this and to basically research how geographic place is used by each author and the effects of such settings on the stories overall.

Violence and the Grotesque

I'm leaning toward writing my paper on O'Connor's use of the grotesque in her writing, in particular the use of excessive violence and her discussion of the "dragon" on the side of the road.

I have found some interesting sources on this topic, including the book "Nightmares and Visions: Flannery O'Connor and the Catholic Grotesque" by Gilbert H. Muller. The book may be a little dated, but is interesting nonetheless.

In a chapter on "Violence and the Grotesque," Muller defends O'Connor's use of excessive violence. It is not gratuitous, he writes, or "used to exploit current tastes." It is a "strategy... to show precisely how the destructive impulse brings the horror of man's grotesque state home to him."

The violence within her stories is typically brought on by the behaviors of the characters themselves, he argues, and the violence serves a "revelatory" purpose: "... violence crystalizes the circumstances surrounding their damnation and reveals the extent of their defective natures. The violence inflicted against these travelers forces them to confront the terror of the human condition without God."

As O'Connor is a Christian writer, Muller goes on to tie this into O'Connor's way to force people to confront evil. I would argue that this shows how the violence in her work is not gratuitous, but rather necessary, as it forces the characters, and her readers, spiritual or secular, to face down the dragon.

Research and Critical Approaches

After reading "The Enduring Chill," I was pretty disgusted/intrigued by the relationship between Asbury and his sister and also their relationship with their mother. Then, the more I got to thinking about it, the more I realized that there are some strange (maybe that's too strong of a word) family relationships in these texts. I am trying to remain flexible with my paper topic, but I think the topic that I am most interested in is how families are represented and familial relations in O'Connor and Porter's works, so I have started researching families in their works. This is a brief overview of what I have thought about/done so far.

The stories I would like to especially look at with regards to the topic of families are "Revelation," "Good Country People," "Everything that Rises Must Converge," "The Enduring Chill," "The Geranium/Judgment Day," and "A Good Man is Hard to Find" by Flannery O'Connor. I think there are more interesting families in O'Connor's works, but there are also some stories with families in Katherine Anne Porter's stories that would be good to use to like "Old Mortality," "Holiday," and "He." I may need to narrow this list down a little.

I think the best critical approach to family representation/relations would be to use a new critical or objective stance. A structuralist reading may also be helpful for parts of the paper as well. I generally do not like to use psychoanalysis, but it may be applicable here. Also, possibly new historicism and deconstruction.

I think I could tie this idea of family into other areas as well (let me pull out my Venn diagram here), such as religion, geography, time period and/or gender (I just want to do it all). I see overlaps with these categories because I am starting to think about why O'Connor and Porter portray their characters (especially the "children") the way they do. I would like to look into how religion, geography, time period and gender influence the constructs of family in their stories.

I have not looked through the letters too much to know what they wrote on the subject of family.

As soon as I can get to the Norlin library Monday morning, I am also going to check out some books that I found that contain essays that sound like they may help me as I form ideas about family (don't worry, I won't wipe out the library, and if I do, I'll share). One book is Beyond and Alone!, focusing on the section about family and isolation. Another one is From Texas to the world and back : essays on the journeys of Katherine Anne Porter, I would be focusing on the essay titled, "Katherine Anne Porter and the family saga." Another book is called God's Grandeur and I would be focusing on an article titled "Flannery O'Connor and a Catholic theology of the family." I think these books might possibly help other people, so I'll share! :)

I may be revising this post by Monday as I find more...

KAP p282

I can't really seem to avoid talking about how KAP's tone depends on what gender she is addressing. This letter, to Barbara Wescott starts by stating, "Barbara darling." In comparison to the letter she writes to the male gender, her letters to women are very feminine. Moreover, KAP tends to boast about her success and she name drops frequently in her letters to women.

KAP p394

In the last KAP letter that I posted about, KAP is writing to a woman named Josephine. In that letter, she is "whiny" etc. We discussed this "whiny" tone in PHPR and again in the letter to Josephine. We have mentioned several times that KAP writes more like a woman whereas Flannery O'Connor writes more like a man. I found this letter to William Ross very interesting in that KAP, while still writing like a woman, works very hard to make her point of view sound intelligent. Her writing style between the letter she wrote to Josephine and William definitely contrast one another. Interesting.

KAP letter p530

This letter describes Katherine's perfectionist way of writing and her opinion of editors. Should we all aim to write like KAP faulted by the "desire, the pride of excellence?" I think it would be worth discussing her stories within that lens, within that mindset she believes in.

Letters Day 3

I'd like to discuss O'Connor's letter to John Hawkes, beginning on page 1106-1108. She discusses The Violent Bear it Away, and who she feels the readers should identify with, and who she identifies with in the story. I'd like to hear what the rest of the class felt when they read the story, specifically if they agree with O'Connor and her thoughts on identity.

To sister Mariella Gable

O'connor's letter to Sister Mariella Gable on page 1182 discusses her catholic beliefs, as well as her feelings towards protestants and the protestant characters she writes. In particular she talks about The Violent Bear it Away and the Tarwaters. Interesting stuff

Letters 3

The letter to Sally and Robert Fitzgerald that begins on p 911 has an interesting, ambiguous insight into "The River".

To Maryant Lee

I am interested in talking about the letters to Maryant Lee on pages 1208-1209. Mainly, because I'm confused. I can't remember if we brought anything up in the last class about these, but it's worth looking at.

History

For today's class, I would like to discuss O'Connor's essay, "Fiction is a Subject with a History--It Should be Taught That Way." I found this essay very interesting.

I was initially drawn in thinking that it would be about censorship and banned books, but was intrigued by O'Connor's thoughts on the "taste" of young students. As she concludes: "His taste should not be consulted; it is being formed."

She brings up a great point by comparing English to other courses, like Algebra and French. But even she admits that studying fiction is different from these, depending on "their teacher's knowledge, ability and taste."

I think most people would agree that it is worthwhile to study literature from the past--even if sometimes it feels like pulling teeth. For example, reading O'Connor's stories and essays has been fascinating to me in terms of the America she was writing about then and its evolution into the America we know now. (I'm reminded of reading Camus' "The Rebel," in which he is describing the growing tension between Arab culture and Western culture some fifty years or so ago.)

Ultimately, my preference is for modern fiction, but I can't disagree with O'Connor's about the importance of "preparing foundations" and learning from the past to understand the present.

One thought, though. I wonder if the evolution of fiction is more cyclical than linear. She seems to suggest it is a linear progression. I'm not so sure of that.

O'Connor - Fiction is a Subject with a History

This article (pgs. 849-852) is of interest as it sheds light on her views on education, something we have not really gone much into. She tends to be supporting the study of literature for its historical value, but as long as students begin at the earliest times continuing to more modern literature. This is the only way that one can appreciate and fully "get" modern novels, by understanding what came before. In this, is O'Connor favoring strictly a historicism type of literary criticism? Any ideas?

O'Connor Letter to Louise Abbot

In this letter, O'Connor talks about what she calls "local institutions", or retirement homes for the elderly in her area. This letter reminded me a lot of the institutions for the mentally retarded that we had discussed earlier. It provides insight into the time period and how little communities cared about those who were mentally disabled or old. It is on page 1091.

Letter Day 3

The letter from O'Connor to A. in the Collected Works book on page 978 caught my eye, because O'Connor briefly discusses Freud and she also writes about "the dragon by the side of the road," which we have also talked about in class. She also writes about femininity and religion in this letter.

Letter to Andrew Lytle

In Porter's Letters, the letter to Andrew Lytle on pg 340 caught my attention, this letter hits on many topics we have been discussing in class and bring them out in one of Lytle's books. Porter critics Lytle on his writing style and the themes he chooses to present within his book. Porter goes over her belief in religion, gender, and writer/artist. This letter is also very interesting because like we discussed Porter usually has a method when writing to her critics, but in this letter she is pretty straight forward about how she feels about Lytle's writing.

Why Porter Writes Letters

After skimming through the book of Porter’s letters I came across a very short letter written to James Powers on page 557. In this letter she tells Mr. Powers that she is keeping all of his letters and hopes that he will do that same because future generations will enjoy reading them. She tells him that reading private letters between people who are “safely dead of course” is her favorite type of reading (Porter 557). Even though Porter is “safely dead” she is still very much alive; she lives through these letters. Since letters are personal and private they illustrate Porter’s character and personality that cannot be determined when reading one of her short stories. These letters allow us access to the real Katherine Anne Porter.

E. Schwartz Letter

Porter’s letter to E. Schwartz on page 547 is an interesting insight into her views on gender. She is insulted by Schwartz’s claim that Miranda saw her illness as “her opportunity to assume the active role of the male” and she responds to his interpretation by attacking his assumption that all women desire to assume this masculine identity. What was really incredible to me though was the way that she subtly suggests that the “role of the male” is not as much a desirable role as it is a pitiable existence. The long sentence in the long paragraph on page 548 that ends, “O poor man, I for one woman, would not change places with him, nor swap my troubles for his,” reverses his ridiculous assumption that any person would swap their gender role because of the few problems inherent to both gender identities. Porter seems to be saying that no man wants to be a woman and no woman wants to be a man because it is a struggle to finds one’s proper place within these identities.

To Josephine

I thought that this letter related to a previous post that discussed Porter's more feminine writing style, specifically in Pale Horse, Pale Rider. In this letter, we see the same "whiny" narrative tones that we see in PHPR. In this letter, Porter relates how miserable she is at her new home stay because it is inadequately furnished etc. After she is fed a "hot, delicious" meal, Porter begins to like her new place of residence. After returning from shopping and purchasing a new pair of shoes, she finds that her room has been attended to and is now "well-furnished." Consequently, Porter likes her new place of residence. While O'Connor writes more like a man, which is demonstrated (as Austin mentions) in O'Connor's letter to Porter where O'Connor talks primarily about birds, Porter seems to have been co-opted into the societal structure of patriarchy and thus, adheres to a common, feminine role.
P.S. This letter is on pages 143-146.

Thomas Stritch

The letter that I'm interested in talking about today is the one to Stritch, on page 1168-1169. Went talked a little bit about the artist and insecurities and this letter talks about her insecurities with Emory.

Letter to E. Schwartz on dark woods and Freud

This letter (March 26, 1958 on p, 547) by Porter provides her idea of Miranda's vision of Adam's death in the dark woods. It also takes on Freud in a most interesting way, not to mention her take on men for those of you looking at gender in her writing.

Letters Day 2

I agree with Jennifer in her interests in Porter's letter on page 66. I like how Porter relates art to something necessary. She says, "Man eats his bread and looks about for something more, and the something more must be art (should be)" (pg. 66.). I'd be interested to see Porter's take on the idea of the aestheticization of violence and politics. In my English3060 class we have come across an immense amount of aestheticization of violence, which brings the two ideas (art and violence) together, rather than battling each other. In this letter, Porter discusses the idea of politics destroying art...I like how she expresses the idea that art will always be valued, whereas the current ideas in politics, will one day be old news.

ABCDEFG

The letter to elizabeth ames (from Porter) on July 1, 1942 is interesting when considered next to Pale Horse, as she is writing at a time when US troops are mobilizing for a war effort, much like 1917. In it, she talks about what happens to youth in war time, as well as just general emotions sparked by the thought of death and waste. Plus, she wrote it from CU boulder, so that's neat. (pgs 241-242)

Letters, Day 2

O'Connor's letter to John Hawkes on 1118-19 has an interesting discussion of grace in The Violent Bear It Away as well as "A Good Man Is Hard To Find".

It cleared up some things for me.

Letter to Paul Porter

The letter to her nephew, Paul Porter, on pages 213-216 is interesting if we are going to talk about her politics today...She discusses WWII and all the points at which it could have been prevented. But then--this surprised me--she claims that she "believes in our form of government, [that it is...] the best ever devised in human affairs, in spite of the abuses, in spite of the perversions that have deformed it in practice" (215). She also goes on to say that after the external war, there will be "a second war to be fought here afterward with the internal enemy."
I think this adds some interesting depth to the political concerns we've already mentioned, especially the fact that she actually believes in something to be salvaged: indeed, Pale Horse was published only a few years before this letter, as KAP was presumably watching the gathering storm of WWII. So does her belief in our form of government add a new element to our understanding of the total disillusionment written into Pale Horse Pale Rider?

Letter 2

The letter to Paul Higgins on Porter pg. 66 caught my eye because Porter describes her feeling on Art and the difference between how the artist sees art and how politics see art. Porter seems have very strong feeling about all art and how art is created and why it is created. She also goes into how she believes art will be in the future and why it is important to continue to place the same importance on the art we have today to the art we now preserve such as the Greeks and Egyptians.

Letter for Day 2: Porter, pg. 169

One letter that has caught my attention is from Porter to Glenway Wescott, from 1939 and on page 169.  I initially picked out the letter because I recognized the places she talks about, but I think it is very telling about how she viewed herself as a writer and how she viewed other writers.

First off, I was very surprised to see how she talks of Somerset Maugham, an author considered to be in the "canon" as much as she is.  Because he is "phony," he could be elected to an academic position?  What might she be saying about true artists and writers?

Also, there is the bit about her secretly reading the article Wescott wrote about her, dropping the magazine if anyone passed by her.  Did Porter feel any guilt about relishing in her success?  A very interesting letter.

The Grotesque

I would love to discuss O'Connor's "Some Aspects of the Grotesque in Southern Fiction" on page 813 .

The main reason I would like to discuss this is because I enjoy O'Connor's use of the grotesque in her writing. I like her description of it on page 816: "It's not necessary to point out that the look of this fiction is going to be wild, that it is almost of necessity going to be violent and comic, because of the discrepancies that it seeks to combine."

Another reason I would like to discuss this essay is because it seems to meander quite a bit, and ultimately, I didn't find it to be about the grotesque, really, so much as a vehement defense of Southern writers.

As she states on page 815: "I have found that anything that comes out of the South is going to be called grotesque by the Northern reader, unless it is grotesque, in which case it is going to be called realistic."

This seems to be a very defensive if not angry essay, and I'm curious about what sparked this essay.

Letter for Day 2

The letter that I would like to read is on page 358 of Letters of Katherine Anne Porter from October 5th, 1948 to Rev John F. Fahey.

I would like to read this one because it touches on some of the topics we were talking about on Monday, particularly why writers write. It is written in response to an article that was published by Harry Sylvester called, "Problems of the Catholic Writer." I can't find this online (somebody should really stop me from googling for this class), but Porter says that she hasn't read it either. I think this letter is interesting to consider when thinking about "the Catholic writer."

O'Conner letter to Maryat Lee

I found a great excerpt from one of O'Connor's letters that deals with writing about other people/cultures. In her letter to Maryat Lee (pg 1094-95), O'Connor talks about her friend who is attempting to write a novel about blacks in New York. This little portion reminded me of "The Enduring Chill". Porter refers to her friend searching for blacks to interview, and notes that maybe they can "scout up a few" if he comes back to New York.

Sentimentality

In response to Porter's definition of sentimentality, I would like to defend my critique of "Pale Horse, Pale Rider". I understand that people experience love and I think that writing about it can be well done. However, I do believe that Porter is portraying this love story as overly dramatic and unrealistic (and I am not solely referring to the scene in which Miranda asks for Adam to proclaim his love to her). I cannot help but feel like Porter is just trying to get the reader to cry, using some of the very same techniques that are used in popular “low” literature today. Yes, I know people tend to find relationships in times of desperation, and that these feelings can be emphasized because of the situation.

I do feel like Porter does not write about “new” love very often, so why in this story? Why in this way? To me, her description of love is 2-dimentional. Miranda finds Adam handsome (She makes several referrals to his blond hair and nice looking frame) and sweet, and besides having to experience the war together, there is no real substance there. And of course, the only hindrance to their relationship is the war/sickness. Why does Porter make everything about the relationship perfect besides the war? Why didn’t Porter go for something less sentimental, less ideal, and more realistic? I mean wouldn’t it be interesting if the reader were pushed to think about Adam in a more complicated light? Sorry if this makes anyone mad, but I feel like I have seen/read better portrayals of “new” love.

NPR O'Connor letter link

All Things Considered, May 12, 2007 ·

Emory University made public Saturday a previously sealed collection of letters from the Southern writer Flannery O'Connor.
The letters contained correspondence with a seemingly unremarkable file clerk named Betty Hester. She was, in fact, a passionate, private intellectual who enjoyed a deep friendship with O'Connor.
Steve Enniss of Emory University speaks with Jacki Lyden about the letters.

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=10154699

The Fiction Writer and His Country

I'd like to look at O'Connor's Fiction Writer and His Country because O'Connor deals with how her work is viewed, how she wants it to be viewed, and the role of the religious writer with a primarily secular (or assumed secular) audience.

O'Connor's letter to A on pg 1205

I would like to talk about how O'Connor describes dealing with lupus as she does in this letter to A. It might also be interesting to A, Betty Hester. The two wrote over 300 letters to each other, and OC became BH's spiritual confirmation sponsor to Catholicism, but by 1958 (they met in 1955) BH left the church for agnosticism. I would like to see if evidence of tension in their friendship appears at the religious split or at the end of OC's life when she knows her lupus is killing her....

Letters- Role of the artist/politics

I'd like to discuss Porter's letter to Allen Tate on page 27 (Jan 27, 1931), wherein she talks about a writer (donald davidson) who has publicly declared he will not write during a political crisis (not sure if that refers to the great depression, the spread of communism, fascism, whatever) and that any artist who does continue producing art is a "treason to society." Miss Porter took issue. I think her views on the role (and definition) of an artist in society are fiery and very interesting, maybe we can talk about that?

Letters

I'd like to read Porter's letter to Lodwick Hartley on pg 176, I found this letter interesting because Porter describes some of the characters within "Pale Horse, Pale Rider" and "Flowering Judas". It just gives us some insight in how Porter wants the characters in her stories to be observed. Also she elaborates on the idea of her being Miranda in this letter as well.

Letters

I would like to discuss Porters letter to Glenway Wescott on page 153. Porter has just finished writing “Pale Horse, Pale Rider” and now she sits down to write this letter. In the letter she explains this wonderful feeling which she feels. Is this feeling a result of her newly finished story? or has the story reminded her of her own survival leaving her with a fresh and fantastic feeling? Towards the end of the letter she mentions her editor’s response to “Pale Horse, Pale Rider”, which is rather interesting as well.

I agree!

I also chose the Lytle letter on page 1121, because I feel like A Good Man is Hard to Find, and the Violent Bear it Away are the most creative works we have read, in the way of imagery, and character work. I am sure there will be questions of mine the letter cannot answer, but I am interested to see where her inspiration came from.

To Andrew Lytle

I would really be interested in discussing O'Connor's letter to Lytle on page 1121. She talks about grace in A Good Man is Hard to Find as well as Baptism, and the God-driven folk in The Violent Bear it Away. It is a very interesting letter, because she seems to be a little peeved.

Letters

On pg 1120 of O'Connor, we have a letter to Porter.

On 622-24 of Porter (letters), we have a letter or O'Connor.

I think it could be a fun exercise to take these two authors that we've been putting in conversation and examine their conversation?

It will probably be a letdown.

Adam's Suicide

Adam takes a fatalistic approach to his shipping off to war. Consider the conversation he has with Miranda. "'Do you know what the average expectation of a sapping party is after it hits the job?' 'Something speedy, I suppose.' 'Just nine minutes' (283) His casual discussion of his own mortality makes him seem resigned to the war, maybe even embracing it - he says "'the war is simply too good to be true'" (282).

It's a part of his training. He lets on to Miranda, "'I gouged the vitals out of more sandbags and sacks of hay than I could keep track of.'" (283) And the narrator describes Adam in terms of sand and hay - "He was wearing his new uniform and he was all olive and tan and tawny, hay colored and sand colored from hair to boots.'" (278) His basic training amounts to gouging effigies in his own image - he is being trained to kill himself.

In class Dr. Cook let us know that the flu epidemic was called the enemy within, and the flu is what kills Adam - not the war. As a character who can flippantly mention his approaching death, who can embrace the war (what he thinks will be the reason for his death), and who has been trained in destroying things like him, what do we make of his succumbing to the enemy within?

He seems to have been on the road to succumbing all along.

The Fiction Writer and His Country

I know this essay has come up in class already, but "The Fiction Writer and His Country" hits home on a topic very dear to me and I would love to discuss this essay in class.

I'm not sure what year this essay was published, but it's definitely something that rings true today. Artists of all media are often criticized by outsiders for being negative, that they should project what's right with the world or this country.

In particular, I'm thinking of documentary filmmakers and journalists who don't toe the government line and are criticized as anti-American. Though not the main argument of this essay, one thing O'Connor touches on is the notion that it the role of the artist to look at that which most would not look. Another way to put it is giving voice to the voiceless.

If the media only speak for those who are successful and have a voice, who speaks for the voiceless? If a country aspires to an ideal, how can it achieve that ideal than if someone is pointing out where its shortcomings so that they can be corrected?

It's not a denial of the happy things, but, as O'Connor says, discussing happy things is the business of advertising agencies. If people want to see happiness they can watch sit-coms.

I particularly love her one line, which seeks to justify the use of violence and the grotesque in art: "...you have to make your vision apparent by shock--to the hard of hearing you shout, and for the almost blind you draw large and startling figures."

Letters: Autobiography, Fiction, and the feud w/ Josie Herbst

Here is the info I have been talking w/you about re: autobiography and fiction. In short, Josie Herbst was writer and good friend of KAP. In an early letter to her (Aug 3, 1934 to Josephine Herbst--note: this is a fragment of a draft, p. 109 in Letters), Porter explains her own approach to using autobiography as a jumping off place for fiction. Ironically, in 1947, Herbst published Somewhere the Tempest Fell, which contains the scene from one of Porter's parties while living in Paris--only the names are changed to fictional ones. To compound Porter's fury with bad writing on the part of her friend, she (Porter) also felt endangered because Herbst had become pro-Stalin, pro-Communist, and was on the FBI watchlist. Porter refused to review the novel. And here is a link to a biography of Porter that discusses her unhappiness with Herbst's "fiction."

Letter: Flannery O'Connor to William Sessions (p. 1043)

I was very interested in Flannery O'Connor's letter to William Sessions dated 27 September, 1957 (p. 1043). In the letter she talks about the censorship of books that have been labeled obscene. She comes at the topic from a fairly objective point of view, which surprised me. I can imagine that some of her short stories might have been labeled obscene as well, and that she might be against such outlooks. She also mentions the moral code or conventions that determine what is classified as obscene: “There was a hearing and it turned out the gentlemen had read only the obscene parts; asked when something was obscene they said it was obscene when it couldn’t be read before a lady” (p. 1044). I found two things really interesting about this quote. Firstly, O’Connor emphasizes that a member of the counsel had not read the piece as a whole, and was solely condemning it on the basis of certain sections. This sort of piece-meal way of looking at a work is not as popular today, in which many works are judged by their overall message. Secondly, she notes the relation of the censorship code to social norms, in which, women are presumed to read only materials that are deemed “fit” for them.

Masculinity in Pale Horse Pale Rider

Porter constructs Adam to be the ideal form of masculinity. Starting with his name, Adam encompasses the feminine ideal of masculine perfection. Being the "first" man, implies he is above other men. God created the Biblical Adam in his image, without error, without defect, without sin. At one point, Miranda thinks "He really did look like a fine healthy apple this morning" (280) which immediately draws the readers back to the Garden of Eden and insinuates that Adam is the apple of her eye and the apple of God's eye. In a sense, Adam was the golden of all golden children. Porter describes the character Adam also as being golden. His appearance was"olive and tan and tawny, hay colored and sand colored from hair to boots" illuminating perfection (278). His eyes, the typical vessels of understanding and truth, were eyes were "pale tan with orange flecks in them and his hair was the color of a haystack"(280). Almost as if Adam had been kissed by the sun--golden hair, tan skin, orange eyes--Adam is a product of nature and of God's creation. He examples God's perfection in his appearance. He also examples a woman's idea of perfection in his appearance. Adam was "tall and heavily muscled in the shoulders, narrow in the waist" (279). I almost laughed when I read this as I was digging for evidence of implied masculinity within the text. Really, is this description not what even modern women desire when they create their perfect male? Commercials, the media, even our friends confirm the social desire for men who tower over the women and wear their inverted triangle physique proudly. Muscled and thick is--in a sense the David with the army build-- the ideal man. The perfect man, moreover, according to Porter, must be more than his brawn. He must be untainted, timeless, and connected with the stereotypical masculine concept of industrialization. Whether or not it's true, Adam's demeanor claimed him to be "clear and fresh and he never had a pain in his life" (282). Again, the perfect icon of creation would be sinless, spotless, uncorrupted within society and able to protect the females without damaging their innocence in the process. He must also be tied into industrialization. Adam's connection with his car represents the stereotype that masculinity must intertwine with industry. Industry evokes images of steel, hardness, production, and Adam felt as though he left part of himself behind when he could not take his car with him. "Miranda knew he was trying to tell her what kind of person he was when he had his machinery with him" (286). Adam is the ideal man in his purpose from God, appearance, untainted character and connection with the industrial. (On a side note, Porter's ideal must love to drive, be respectful to his mother, wait for women at all hours of the night, and be a good dancer). Porter, however, strips away Adam's perfect masculinity. First, Miranda does not give up her job for her man, a common complaint of feminism. Instead, he meets her to dance and eat and drink coffee at all hours of the night, essentially waiting for her to beckon him. He adjusts to her schedule and "late hours" and even attends the plays she must review to keep her company. When Miranda becomes sick, furthermore, Adam fulfills the role of nurse, getting her prescriptions and wiping the vomit from her face. In a delirious state, Miranda tells him "Adam, I think you're beautiful," verbally condemning him to a feminine adjective (301). Even at war, Adam does not die a soldier's death, a masculine death, but he is stricken with influenza. Miranda, furthermore, is the one who gives him the disease. She in a sense forces him to nurse her and then prevents him from dying an "honorable" war death. The question is then, why is Adam stripped of his manhood. By emasculating Adam, Porter issues a very feminist sentiment: men are not truly masculine and women have the ability to take away the qualities they think define their masculinity. Men, then, would be equal to women, pulled down a notch on the hierarchal ladder.

Initiating Phase Two

I am going to go ahead and post my letter for tomorrow, if you all don't mind.

Since we are wrapping up Pale Horse Pale Rider tomorrow with a discussion on the futility of war and also starting to read some letters, I found a couple letters that tie in with what we have been talking about in class and on the blog. I seriously can't choose which one I want to talk about more, so I might read both (I hate to get that started, but even eeny, meeny, miny mo isn't working), before we move on to other topics.

The first letter is in Letters of Katherine Anne Porter on page 177. It is written to Lodwick Hartley May 4, 1940. I want to read this one because it talks about Porter's motivation for writing Pale Horse Pale Rider, and she also writes about how she feels about being referred to as a woman writer.

The second letter is also in Letters of Katherine Anne Porter on page 389 (bottom). It is written to James Stern July 15, 1950. I want to read this letter because she writes about her feelings about war, which may be useful in class on Monday if we will be talking about war.

Also, when I was skimming through the book, I found a letter that Porter wrote just after she finished Pale Horse Pale Rider that is dated in December 1937, not 1939 like I thought (which is also a really interesting letter, but I need to seriously stop). Oops! Sorry about that!

Self-Actualization in PHPR

While responding to the post regarding the loss of body in PHPR, I stumbled upon and idea that I would like to investigate in more depth. Moreover, I would like to pose this idea as a springboard for discussion. I am not going to come to any definite conclusions within this post, but I would like to see what the rest of you think about the idea of self-actualization not only within PHPR, but also within other works by Flanner O'Connor and Katherine Anne Porter.

In class, we have frequently discussed the idea of emptiness or flatness in Porter and O'Connor's protagonists. Do you think that it is possible that this emptiness results as a consequence of the process of self-actualization. I'm not sure that any of Porter or O'Connors characters ACTUALLY achieve self-actualization within these stories, but I definitely think that they come very close in that they have startling realizations about themselves and the world in which they live that lead them to feel emptiness and loss of body.

Anyhow, I was going to post quotations from PHPR regarding this idea, but I think there are several examples of these quotes in the post that I just posted and I don't want to be redundant/I'm being totally lazy.

Another interesting thought I had regarding self-actualization within PHPR relates to the journey via horseback that Miranda embarks on within the first few pages of PHPR. Based on the short, often repetitive structure of the sentences in this section, Miranda is obviously feels very frantic and lost. I think that this franticness on her part reflects a mass production of introspective thoughts that she is experiencing at this point in time. I feel that this journey to an unknown destination could be interpreted as being symbolic of a journey towards self-actualization. This voyage via horseback is not mentioned again within the story and therefore, I don't think that Miranda actually reaches self-actualization within the story, but rather works towards it and the self-actualization occurs in a manner that is external to the physical text.

Anyhow, any thoughts on this idea?

Again, Emptiness in Pale Horse Pale Rider in the Bookends

After finishing PHPR, I still noticed an overlying theme of emptiness. This theme seems to overwhelm the story. Not only do we see the emptiness that war brings, physically, through death and loss of loved ones, but we also see emptiness in the overall tone of the story. The theme of emptiness is most explicit in the beginning and ending of PHPR. Some examples of emptiness occur in the following examples:

"Her heart was a stone lying upon her breast outside of her..." (269).

Here, Miranda notes a disconnect between herself and her heart (which she describes as stone, thus void of feeling).

"And the stranger? Where is that lank greenish stranger I remember hanging about the place..."

There is a recurring motif of Miranda's "stranger" within the beginning of PHPR, which seems to embody the Miranda's inexplicable feelings of panic and emptiness. (269-70).

"Do I even walk about in my own skin or is it something I have borrowed to spare my modesty?" (270).

This quote seems to demonstrate Miranda's feelings of emptiness in that she does not seem to recognize herself. She feels that she is borrowing someone else's body and does not understand the feelings of loss and void that this skin possesses.

In the end of PHPR, emptiness is very prevalent after Miranda's loss of Adam.

"The room was silent, empty, the shade was gone from it..." (317).

Here, emptiness is explicitly stated. More importantly, Miranda seems to feel that it is her own existence that causes this emptiness. Prior to the aforementioned quote Miranda states, "The room was silent, empty, the shade was gone from it, struck away by the sudden violence of her rising and speaking aloud." This statement is interesting because rather than emptiness forcing itself upon Miranda, she seems to be forcing emptiness upon herself by merely existing.

As a whole, the theme of emptiness within this story is pervasive. However, what is more interesting is observing the ways in which the characters create their own feelings of emptiness and void.

Devastation of PHPR

The devastation that occurs in PHPR I think directly connects all of the themes that are presented within the story. I think without one specific theme we would not grasp that amount of devastation that is occurring and how Porter feels about it.

The autobiography point of the story I think actually has some real weight in this story even if we do not parallel the characters of Miranda with Porter, it is obvious that Porter conveys her feelings about the war and the forced patriotism, and also the way Miranda lives her daily life of being alone and working. It just so happens that Miranda is the character which has the most in common with Porter herself. Also I think it is important to acknowledge the fact that Porter as well as Miranda both lived through the flu epidemic after becoming very ill. I think this not only a huge part of the story but also a huge influence in how she viewed the war during this tragedy as not only were they fighting across seas but fighting for their lives at home and even more the evil within. I even think that maybe Porter thought that the war was not where the people should have been contributing their time worrying about being patriotic and what not. But rather people should have been more concerned with the epidemic. I just feel like that could be due to Miranda's unpatriotic tone and also that Adam does not die in the war but by the epidemic.

I also think that the romance aspect of the story greatly develops the idea of the devastation of the war and epidemic. I think the relationship puts a realistic time period on the tragedies that are occurring around them because the forbidden love/romance idea is placed upon us all the time in other piece of literature and movies, so we can relate to a romance that occurs within days. Also it stresses the importance that one must find some sort of joy no matter what devastation is upon you.

The gender differences within the time period are also really stressed and even the boundaries are crossed at so points during the story. The gender distinction of the female are set within the aspect of the war and how women are not allowed to participate in the warfare. This shows that the men still perceive women during this time period as fragile things that they must take care of. The gender lines are crossed with Miranda and her job as a journalist and how she operates her job by putting it first and foremost before Adam or any real life of her own. The gender lines are also crossed when Miranda becomes ill and Adam begins to care for her. He essentially becomes her nurse helping her become well which is inevitably the downfall of Adam.

Nature/Disease/War

In the hallucination segments of PHPR, when Miranda is sick and delirious between half-recognized visits from Adam and later the nurse and doctors, I noticed a strong correlation between nature imagery and death, which of course is tied to disease and war in this text. Her first hallucination involves feeling that she is lying down in a deep field of snow high in the mountains. The sensation of lying in a deep field of snow, for me, invokes an image of a body in a morgue's freezer. Also, prominent images of world war I often involve bodies strewn out in frozen European fields. Miranda moves from this image to a dense jungle, which she sees as "a writhing terribly alive and secret place of death," the jungle here is the unknown approach of death (in the forms of war and plague), that grows into a cacophonous refrain of "danger danger danger...war war war." It is as if the war has become so dense with pain and suffering that it has spread an arm out towards Miranda, striking her with influenza, a silent manifestation of its violence.

In her next hallucination, Miranda finds herself in a small green wood (like the woods of France), where she witnesses Adam repeatedly stricken dead by arrows, only to rise again, in a macabre cycle that echoes the pointlessness and repetitious horror of war. Once again, nature holds the key to this death. Next she imagines her fathers well bubbling over with water to staunch a poison brought to it by an image of a german soldier; nature (plague) is drowning out human violence with violence of its own. In her final hallucination, she sees "a landscape of sea and sand, of soft meadow and sky, freshly washed and glittering with transparencies of blue;" this pastoral dreamscape contains the faces of all people she has ever known, whose movements are connected with clouds and waves. She feels herself moving among these faces "as a wave among waves" and she understands each individual as alone but not solitary. Her water is again posited as a cleansing manifestation of nature, which comes in waves that roll up upon humanity and retreat again, leaving humanity scattered as they face their individual deaths, but united in the fact of mortality.

Attitudes Towards World War II

It was interesting to me that Miranda seemed more disgusted by the war effort at home than the war over seas. This is the only time that I have ever heard of anyone criticizing the war effort during World War II. Miranda was more critical of the Liberty Bond salesmen, the knitting of socks, and the dances arranged with soldiers on leave than she was of the futility of the war itself. All of my grandparents were about the same age as Miranda during World War II, and I guarantee that none of them ever shared any of the feelings that Miranda did towards the war. Obviously it was financially impossible for her to support the war financially by buying bonds, but it does not seem unreasonable to expect her to go along with all of the other fanfare involved in publicly supporting the soldiers and the war. Perhaps if she had been morally opposed to the war and had given more of a reason for her distaste of all things surrounding the war than her belief that it was a distraction from the real horrors of war it would have been easier for me to sympathize with her. However, I believe that it was necessary to make all of the Americans at home believe that they were directly involved in the war to distract them from the guilt and shame of sending other people to the front to die. I know that my grandmothers on each side of my family approached the rationing of sugar, the knitting of clothing, the buying of war bonds, and the other elements of the war effort at home with zeal and enthusiasm at the idea that they were aiding their husbands, brothers, cousins, and neighbors overseas. It is important to rememeber that while some of the things that Miranda opposed to may have been frivolous, World War II was a war that needed to be fought and the propaganda that surrounded it was necessary to keep the general population from experiencing the depression and cynicism that Miranda experienced.

Fiction as Autobiography

Austin brings up an excellent point in his blog: What does it matter if Miranda is the fictional version of Porter?

What matters is: Does it change our realtionship with the story?

I'd like to say no, because it shouldn't change our relationship with the story, but honestly, I think it does. Obviously, this is not a new phenomenon, as Porter dealt with it in her time, but in an era of post-modernism, self-referential essayists and the proliferation of memoirs, I think the natural tendency is to make that assumption.

I've noticed that a lot in English classes. When a classmate submits a story in which the narrator's gender isn't identified, nearly everyone makes the assumption that the narrator is the same gender as the author. When I read someone's story, unless I'm told otherwise, I make the assumption that the narrator is the same gender. That's short-sighted, yes, but I think it's natural for most people.

I've also noticed, in these classes, in myself and other fiction writers I know, that when someone submits a story with a protagonist at all similar to themselves, everyone assumes the story to be somewhat revealing or confessional. Ironically, as Austin pointed out, the same writers that submit these stories tend to make fun of that assumption, but at the same time do use their fiction as a way to work through their issues. At the very least, they do reveal a lot about themselves, whether or not they intended to.

So I think it's natural to read Porter's Miranda stories and make that assumption. Is it correct? Only Porter knows. Should it matter? It shouldn't. Ultimately, as Austin point out, even if it is autobiographical, so what? Is a fictional narrator the most trustworthy of sources? I doubt it.

If Miranda is Porter, that does reveal a lot about Porter, but the fact that we have this drive to make that connection reveals even more about us.

Miranda as Porter?

Porter left the Old South. Porter survived the flu epidemic. Porter reported on society. Porter worked in the Rocky Mountain region.

And so did Miranda.

And so what?

Dr. Cook mentioned in class that scholars think that Miranda is the closest to an autobiography we get to in Porter's fiction. While I'll admit that I always like to fantasize that something like the book I'm reading happened to the author, these suppositions seem to have little place in serious scholarship. Am I wrong?

There is an excellent interview with Margaret Atwood wherein the interviewer asks if The Handmaid's Tale was autobiographical. Atwood is livid. "How can it be autobiographical," she asks, "if it takes place in the future?"

Obviously the prosaic point doesn't hold up my argument, but I think the spirit of her response - spat venom - gives an idea of what it means for one author to have the "autobiography" question leveled at fiction. (Remember also the story of Porter freaking out at her friend for changing the names in a real event and pretending it a short story? KAP and JCO would not have gotten along.)

If Porter is Miranda, does that tell us something more about Porter or Miranda? (I would say Porter; she told us everything she wanted us to know about Miranda.) Given the sparse characterizations that I can't shut up about, what does that mean that Porter wants us to know about herself?

You can know her (fictionalized) family and you can know her sickness, her love life, her independence - but can you know her?

Pale Horse, Pale Rider-Gender Bending?

Building off what Daniel brought up, I too was struck by gender roles in this story, but I noticed many instances of what seemed to be Porter challenging gender roles.  Gender, as we know from theory classes, can be understood as a social construct, and gender seems stressed in this story pretty blatantly.  The structure of gender in the story is laid out very early on:  men go to war and women stay home and knit and take care of injured soldiers, basically.

Miranda's femininity seems stressed by Porter.  There are more than one reference to her touching up her make up and hair and putting on gloves (pgs. 275, 283).  Miranda and Towney can only write such things as the society page or theater reviews for the paper while Chuck can only write about sports.

This is, presumably, the world Porter is living within, but she does not appear to merely accept it at face value.  Chuck tells Miranda to "toughen up" at one point, but she is a woman and this would go against what women "should" be in this world.  The disgruntled actor tells Miranda that he'd hit her if she were a man (pg. 289).

Chuck is the sports writer, as I have mentioned, but his dream is to write the theater column, and "didn't see why women always had the job" (pg. 287).  As a man in this society, Chuck should naturally want to write about sports.  Chuck gets his chance to write the theater column, but is quickly suppressed by society when the newspaper restricts him to the sports page (pg. 315).

This story blatantly lays out the binary opposition of nurse(female)/soldier(male) in its gender roles.  Chuck makes some very misogynistic comments about Florence Nightingale and there being no place for women around the battlefield (pg. 287).  In light of this comment, I found it very interesting that it is Adam that plays Florence Nightingale for Miranda when she is sick.  It would perhaps have been less out of character to have Towney or the land lady come take care of her, but it is Adam, the big masculine soldier.  The nurse/soldier gender roles are reversed cleverly here.  Now I know what most of you hopeless romantics will say, and I do agree that it was very sweet and loving for him to do that, but especially with the Florence Nightingale reference, I read this as being more about the gender roles.

Anyone else notice these challenges to gender roles?  Any other possible examples, and what, perhaps, might Porter be intending with this?

Emptiness in Pale Horse Pale Rider

The introduction of Pale Horse Pale Rider was great, but like the American people in World War II it lost its get-up and go. Despite the fact that I am kind of hating this story right now, I feel that the "fluff" [i.e. the romantic story (which is also empty because the death of Adam is foreshadowed several times) that fills a great deal of space and time between the introduction and the conclusion] reflects Miranda's feelings of emptiness and loss. This story reminds me of a somewhat less original version of Pride and Prejudice set in the 40's. For as great as Miranda's supposed love for Adam is, their relationship is incredibly empty and lacks true emotion because each party member knows that their situation is not permanent, whether or not they want it to be. Thus, the emptiness that prevails throughout the love story of Miranda and Adam reflects the empty feeling of the nation at that time. [At least I hope that is Porter's intent...or else this story is fairly blase if I do say so myself... : ) ]

NPR: Pale Horse....

You may listen to and read this broadcast on NPR by Alice McDermott, entitled "Why Libraries Should Stock Pale Horse, Pale Rider."

Website for WWI Posters: U.S.

Class: This site has an excellent collection of posters from World War I. It will give you a sense of Miranda's visual world in Pale Horse, Pale Rider.

Loss of the Body in PHPR

While reading PHPR I saw a very distinct similarity between Miranda’s thought process and Granny Weatherall’s thought process. Both characters become less aware of time, see people in the room almost float around them, and are almost in a delirious state “babbling nonsense”. In addition to this I found that Porter became focused on the disintegration of Miranda’s body. Here are some examples:
“The body is a curious monster, no place to live in” (313).
“[Miranda was] no longer aware of the members of her own body” (310).
“…she opened her eyes and saw pale light through a course white cloth over her face, knew that the smell of death was her own body, and struggled to lift her hand” (312).
I wonder why Porter chooses to focus on the loss of Miranda’s bodily functions. I think this work relates to some of Flannery O’Conner’s works which also focus on this loss.

Porter the Woman writer

I think what Michelle says about the short story having a romance aspect goes along with what was mentioned in class about Porter writing like a women (whereas Flannery writes more like a man). While reading the story, I could not help but think how whiny and overly romantic the writing and focus of the piece is. Porter emphasizes Miranda's yearning to be with Adam outside of the time and place of the war. Miranda is always fretting about getting to see Adam and worries a lot about how she looks. The themes actually reminded me a lot of Hemingway's story, A Farewell to Arms. I especially find the relationship of Miranda and Adam similar to the relationship between Henry and Catherine. Of course, the main difference would be in the style of writing, however both women are portrayed as semi-whiny and weak (at least to me). What do you guys think?

Pale Horse Pale Rider

I think I am starting to understand the whole ex-patriot thing. This story helped me understand how hard times were back during WWI.

The part that I was most interested in with this story was the romance aspect of it all. I thought this whirl wind romance with a soldier was nicely weaved in with everything else going on in Miranda's life. I thought this was one of the more romantic things that I have read in awhile (maybe I just need a boyfriend or something). For a man to hold a bucket while a woman throws up in it is possibly one of the sweetest things that I have read ["Do excuse me" (Porter 300)]. Then to still pat her and tell her he loves her, "He lay down beside her with his arm under her shoulder, and pressed his smooth face against hers, his mouth moved towards her mouth and stopped. 'Can you hear what I am saying?...What do you think I have been trying to tell you all this time?" It almost made me cry it was so sweet (I'm sorry, I'm a softy). Unfortunately, I wondered if it was real. In this scene I questioned whether Adam was really even there. This whole scene seemed so dreamlike to me, and Miranda was so sick that she was hallucinatory, that I questioned if it really happened or not. I also found it a little odd (and kind of scary) that she was taken away while he was (or she thought he was) down the street picking up more ice and coffee. It does make sense that he would be in this scene since he ends up dying of influenza. But was he really in this scene? Why didn't he barge his way into the hospital instead of just leaving a note? Did he die because he caught influenza from her? Why isn't she more upset when she finds out that he dies? Is she just resigned about the whole thing? I also thought it was interesting that there is a scene like this where the manly soldier rescues the woman in a story about a woman who is supporting herself and working during war times.

On another note (ha, no pun intended), the lyrics to Pale Horse and his Rider are at this website, I think this is the song that is referenced in the story, but I am not sure (why would the title be different?): http://www.metrolyrics.com/the-pale-horse-his-rider-lyrics-hank-williams.html

Pale Horse Pale Rider

As far as imagery goes, the idea of the dream state that Porter evokes in "Pale Hose Pale Rider" is different than so many of her other stories. She has done a beautiful job in many of her works by exploring self worth, social constructs, and what it is to be polite. But here there is an exploration of reality. I am not sure weather this is coming from the idea of story and truth, or identity through family, but either way her writing style in PHPR evokes a different image than her previous works. Even the title makes me think of a strange, indistinguishable movement, where you don't know where the rider ends and the horse begins. In this fantastical creature Porter might be referring to the story being indistinguishable from the writer. Seeing as how this was to be incorporated into her most autobiographical work, it seems fitting for her to explore the idea of where her writing ends and her personal story begins.

Community vs. the Atomized Individual: Trajectory of the 3 Novel volume

In the three novels of the Pale Horse, Pale Rider volume, "Old Mortality," "Noon Wine," and "Pale Horse, Pale Rider," I would like to propose that there is a trajectory from a deeply communal aesthetic, broken by a loss of innocence and an act of violence, and moving into an aesthetic of the highly atomized individual.

In terms of basic plot, "Old Mortality" expresses a deep sense of community: the plot concerns the legends and fates of a family, rather than individuals. Even Amy, who is clearly attempting to assert her individuality, is always discussed in terms of her relation to her family members: they admire her, they disapprove of her, etc. The two girls are woven into the family legend as an incorporated audience, as they compare their beauty to the beauties of the family. Even in terms of narrative technique, individual voices are conspicuously absent when Amy's story begins. Her legend seems to come from a generalized, collective family consciousness. Much of Amy's actual story (the ball, etc) seems to come from a singular, observing narrator, and only occasionally do individual voices add their supporting comments. In the third part of the story, of course, voices forcefully demand individual identity: Eva subverts the family legend, and Miranda determines to escape it altogether.

Moving into "Noon Wine," the narration is similar: as readers, we have the same distance from Mr. Thompson and we do from Mrs. Thompson. Descriptions of Mr. Helton at the dinner table suggest that Mr. and Mrs. Thompson are basically observing the same person, and sharing the same experience. However, after Mr. Thompson kills Mr. Hatch, the sense of perspective is narrowed. We either get Mrs. Thompson's internal thoughts, or Mr. Thompson's internal thoughts. There is an abrupt and disturbing sense of sudden alienation: They are no longer members of a family, but rather atomized and isolated individuals who no longer share the same opinions, experiences, instincts, etc.

Then, in "Pale Horse, Pale Rider," the atomization of the individual reaches its logical conclusion. Miranda is totally alienated from those around her, and experiences life as a lonely, singular consciousness, rather than as an incorporated victim of family legend (perhaps Porter wants to know which is worse?). First, she has an intense, internal dialogue when faced with the aggressive bonds salesmen--the ultimate result of war, in this case, is that one is never allowed to say what one thinks. One must remain impassive and keep emotions and opinions securely interior: in short, one must become an atom.

A prime example of this atomization is a conversation Miranda has with a girl in the hospital ward: the girl admits she doesn't really like delivering candy and cigarettes to wounded veterans. Miranda replies that she "hates it." The girl responds "cautiously," saying "I suppose it's all right, though." Then Miranda "turns cautious also," with a guarded "Perhaps."

Even with close friends, Miranda remains guarded and trapped inside the profound isolation of enforced patriotism. She ventures to tell Chuck, "I wish it were over and I wish it had never begun," but she is still checked by doubts: "What she had said seemed safe enough but how would he take it?" (290). In the family community of "Old Mortality," the characters were at least united by threads of common thought--by a collective legend to which they all contributed (for better or for worse). In "Pale Horse," the common legend is being forced upon society: none of the isolated individuals in the community are contributing their share of the story.
In contrast, Miranda barely even seems to know what Adam has on his mind, and, in the theater, Miranda looks a Chuck and "for the first time since she had known him she wondered what Chuck was thinking about."

This profound alienation, atomization, isolation (whatever you want to call it) can be read as a product of the war, a product of (presumably) Miranda's maturation, or a general indication of the times. But historically, the move from communal traditions and collective identity to the individuated, atomization of modernist society can be marked using WWI as the breaking point. In that respect, I think the sense of community in "Old Mortality" can be read as an expression of pre-war communal sensibilities. The act of violence in "Noon Wine" parallels society's fall from innocence during WWI. Then, "Pale Horse, Pale Rider" expresses the fears and isolations of the alienated individual looking into the disillusionment of the post-war future.

It isn't necessary to read these three novels from this frame--certainly, I don't think it takes anything away from them as individual pieces if you don't buy my historicist suggestion. But I do think the movement and structure of the collected volume probably has signficance that merits consideration. I think we should assume that Porter put as much thought into the order of novels in the collection as she put into the order of words in a sentence.
Thoughts? More articulate support or opposition than I seem to be able to come up with this afternoon?

Foreshadowing In "Pale Horse, Pale Rider"

After reader “Pale Horse, Pale Rider” I tried to find the Bible verse containing the ‘Pale Horse” reference. This text can be found in The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse in the Book of Revelation. Time rides upon the White horse; War rides upon the Red horse; Famine rides upon the Black horse and Death rides upon the Pale horse. According to this story the four horsemen are named after the dangers that they embody and carry with them; they represent the forces of man’s destruction.

Revelation 6:8 “I looked, and there before me was a pale horse! Its rider was named Death, and Hades was following close behind him. They were given power over a fourth of the earth to kill by sword, famine and plague, and by the wild beasts of the earth.”

According to the Bible the pale horse signifies death and widespread devastation, which in the case of this short story seems to be the influenza epidemic. Death would be the appropriate rider for this horse given what it brings forth. After knowing the significance of this passage from the Bible it is easy to notice the foreshadowing presented by Porter in the beginning of the story. In Miranda’s dream she mentions a “lank greenish stranger” which gives the impression of a very sick and weak person (Porter 269). She then chooses to ride Graylie, a horse whose name implies that its color is gray or even pale. Miranda then acknowledges that the stranger is Death because she say’s, “Come now, Graylie, … we must outrun Death and the Devil” (Porter 270). The stranger’s horse was also gray, which further proves that this horse and rider in her dream are death and the pale horse referred to in the Bible. She tries to outrun Death on her own gray horse, which she eventually does because by the end of the story she has survived the epidemic.

Happiness in PHPR

In a sense, PHPR for me has been refreshing so far. As mentioned in class, before we started with Porter again, I feel like I needed a break from O'Connor. I felt as though the image of Miranda and Adam's relationship was separated from the rest of the text. When I was visualizing their playtime, escaping from the realities of the war, it seemed like a new chapter, and a new emotion being portrayed. I think this was the most refreshing part for me about PHPR...we rarely get to see Porter or O'Connor's characters enjoying themselves the way Miranda and Adam did in each others' presenses. Of course it wasn't picture perfect, since Miranda is revealing signs of her illness, but this one section of the text sucked me in, hoping for something other than abandonment, death, or depression.

Feminism/Pacifism: Pale Horse Pale Rider

One of the more interesting aspects of this story, for me, is the connection Porter draws between women and pacifism, as well as men and nationalism. In the sections leading up to her disease, Miranda's thoughts repeatedly iterate her reservations about the American war effort, and her revulsion towards war itself. Miranda's job in the press exposes her to the details of war-mongering and propaganda first hand, which she views with internal disgust but external complacency, out of a fear, which is mentioned several times, of the consequences of open objection to the war. Miranda encounters liberty-bonds salesmen who feed on xenophobia and war-fever to make money, threatening peoples jobs and making monetary support of violence a condition of good-citizenship. She does her supposed "woman-on-the-home-front" duties, stopping by at soldier's hospitals and going to military dances, but always with a certain uneasiness as to the value/morality of what she is doing, which is only shared with female acquaintances. Towney and a volunteer red-cross nurse express reservations similar to Miranda's in private, but, like Miranda, practice public complacency and support. These objections are indeed only private, but they are living in a nation caught in a patriotic/nationalist fervor, wherein disagreement quickly becomes treason and silent objection can become imprisonment.

On the other hand, the men in the story, even those in no way connected to the war effort (chuck/bill), are never shown by Porter to hold any sort of reservation about the basic necessity of war, even in as much as they might mock the propaganda and machinations behind it. Adam, who is portrayed in a very sympathetic light, is shown to at least hold some disdain for war, when prompted by Miranda, but never openly questions its existence or need. Chuck, who cannot go to war, expresses a similar comic disdain but still says it is right that soldier's "perish where they fall." The only male, and in fact the only character, that seems to be not at all concerned with the war is the playwright who comes to challenge Miranda at her office.

Anyways, I'm losing hold of what my point is so I'll just stop here. If anyone would like to contribute please do

Reply to Austin's post on the Mirandas

I totally connected the two Mirandas as the same person. Maybe they weren't but I saw PHPR as a continuation of where Miranda's story left off in OM.

I think what did it for me was the "running away" on the horse. Even though it's just a dream in PHPR, could it be a dream that is remembering the past? Like, reliving events that she went through. It also states in the beginning that she has nothing of her own, except nothing, and that was enough. I connected this with OM in that Miranda is living through the tales of her family. Both Miranda's are writers (if I recall correctly) - one is a journalist and one is prose (I think). They are both educated, which could go along the lines of continuing the story.

We can also take these stories separately, which could make the two Miranda's different, or, going off with Austin's namesake theory. But why would Porter give them the same name? Is it similar to O'Connor giving her characters the same name in a single story? Obviously, they are supposed to be connected, the degree is what is in question. Myself - I saw them as the same, and PHPR as a sequel or something.

I could be completely wrong though because we are left not seeing certain important parts of their character in each story that the other story fills in. For instance, we get a general personality and who Miranda acts with others (and loves) while we only see Miranda as she thinks about her family in OM.

Both stories center around death too, and some sort of romantic love is involved. In OM, it is Amy who suffers and dies without truly being in love. In PHPR, Miranda finds love only to lose it and so she learns that it doesn't matter how much you fight to live, there will always be death. She ends up not really seeing the difference in life or death anymore... which maybe that was Amy's conclusion?

Stories about Mirandas

After reading the first half of "Pale Horse, Pale Rider" (Pale Horse, Pale Rider?), I'm not having a problem considering this and "Old Mortality" the Miranda stories, but I am certainly wondering - are these the same Mirandas?

Sarah pointed out in class that "Old Mortality" presented some more of Porter's eclipsed characters. We heard a lot about Amy, but nothing from Amy herself. We seemed to be following the story of Miranda, but only in glimpses until Part III, where she was the center of the action.

Given all of the exposition that Miranda's family receives in "Old Mortality", it seems odd that the characters we grew to "know" (I use the term loosely; you think you know a person . . . ) aren't referenced at all. Not even in passing. The only real reference I could find was the horse in the dream, Miss Lucy, which is what Amy named her horse, and what Gabriel names the following three horses he owns.

Is the Miss Lucy that Miranda dreams about her past echoing in her subconscious? Or is she - like the new Amy, like dream-Miss Lucy (in a long line of Miss Lucies) - just another namesake?

(If PRPH-Miranda is just a namesake, does that make her a living memorial of OM-Miranda? a new Miranda, who will suffer the same trajectory but a different fate? Porter's idea of a hilarious coincidence?)

I don't think Porter made the two Mirandas totally unconnected. Is the disparity between the Miranda of 1912 and the Miranda of 1918 (an assumed date; "Old Mortality" gives us clear settings, and I am guessing that given Miranda's age in 1912 (18), Miranda's age in PRPH (24), and the events of WWI it is 1917 or 18; the chronology matches up more or less) evidence of real change in a character who has had time to mature? Perhaps it is a thumbing of the nose at the narrator of "Old Mortality," who closes the story skeptical of whether or not Miranda can truly sever herself from her past?

I'd love to get thoughts on whether or not they are the same character; perhaps there is another reference to OM Miranda in PRPH that I missed, or a more convincing argument for them being completely different people.

Old Mortality and Ideal Beauty

Because I found this story so intriguing, I wanted to take the time and post--even if it's a little late--my thoughts about the ideal beauty? Miranda believes a "beauty" must be tall with dark hair, smooth pale skin, beautiful teeth and hands. She must be light and swift, but more than anything a beauty must posses "some mysterious crown of enchantment that attracted and held the heart" (176). How, really can you define the last statement? Who declares which lady is enchanting and which lady isn't? Men, seem, to define who is beautiful in society. Miranda's father, for instance, claims "there were never any fat women in the family, thank God" (174). Evidently, according to men, fat women are not only less than beautiful, they are less than family. He furthermore, defined how his own daughters should look holding them on his knee only if they were "prettily dressed and well behaved" but sending them away in a disgusted manner if they fell short of his expectations of what defined nice looking young ladies. Moreover, Amy's father also dominated what she should live up to in terms of ladyness.When dressed for the ball, her father commanded her to change because no daughter should "show herself in such a rig-out. It's bawdy" (185). In other cases, however, she ignored her father, and depended on her brothers' advice on her appearance. Eager to seek their approval-- most likely because they knew what was stylish in their current generation--Amy would change had "they found fault in any way" (183). Surprisingly, Amy cared not at all what Gabriel thought of her beauty, even cutting her hair after he complimented it. Amy's refusal to be swayed by the opinion of men made me consider that perhaps the men are not the ones to define beauty, they just merely support the definition. In class I made the claim that it is women who actually suppress other women by creating the ideal beauty. I support this argument with the example of Eva and her mother. Her mother joked about her ugliness and how she would never threaten her youth by making her a grandmother, making her "blush as if she had been slapped" (178). While her mother wore elegant dresses, Eva wore hand-me-downs altered to fit her size. Eva is described as almost horse-like with a face,"chinless, straining her upper lip over two enormous teeth" (178). At dances where her mother was absent, "Eva bloomed out a little, danced prettily, and smiled" (178). The narrator implies that it was her mother that truly prevented Eva from feeling beautiful, accepted, and an adequate female in society. However, her mother marked her as ugly and "chinless"so her family followed in suit. In some ways, I believe Eva's inner bitterness stemmed from her family who "bedeviled her about her chine" and she succumbed to the psychological notion of "self fulfilling prophesy" where she transformed into what others expected her to be: a homely old maid.

Horse talk in Old Mortality

I think that the horse theme in Old Mortality is interesting. It seems to be an underlying theme that connects many of the characters. There is a lot of mention of riding, jockeying, hunting, running away via horse, and so forth. It seems to connect Amy and Miranda a little too, because Miranda at one point wanted to be a jockey.

The place that I guess I was most repulsed by was the scene where Harry takes the girls to the track and they meet Gabriel. All at once their fantasized views of him were washed away and he was revealed for what he was. But what grossed me out was his obsession with Amy. I don't want to knock true love, but they were only married for 6 weeks and he is riding "her" horses - horses names after hers. And he's killing them by doing it! I don't know what to think of that part, because he obviously thinks that by riding her horses to death honors his dead wife. I don't blame Miranda for not wanting to be a jockey anymore after seeing such a sad scene...

Old Mortality

Personally, I had a hard time reading this story because it reminded me so much of my own family. (This is probably not a unique experience at all...I'm sure at least a few other people were reminded of family legends!) I was struck, though, by the balance between the male and female voices in this piece. The main energy of the male voices come from Gabriel, the father, and Harry, the brother. All of them are concerned with how Amy appears to the world: Gabriel wants to be with the belle of the ball, the father is concerned that she displays herself too much, and Harry is concerned that she attracts too much attention at the ball. Harry and the father are in a position to claim some kind of possession over the honor and sexuality of a female relative, and Gabriel wants to protect the virtue of his future investment. Their repetition of family legends cement and protect Amy's use-value as such an object, if nothing else. In contrast, Eva, who has no claim to Amy's use-value, undermines the legend by suggesting that Amy forsook a pregnancy (female use-value in the most literal, physical sense). In an earlier response, I mentioned that Amy is the victim of the panoptic, patriarchial family circle--her brother and Gabriel do not object to immodest clothing, as long as she stays where they can see her. But the minute she leaves the dance floor with another man, her absense becomes transgressive and they take action to bring her back under their panoptic gaze. But wasn't Eva also in a kind of panoptic prison? Wasn't she also watched with as much energy for her lack of Amy's attributes? Eva's vocal energy in Part III interests me because she, as Amy's shadowy double, is the one to survive the panoptic circle and to speak outside of it. (Also, considering Harry and Gabriel's roles in an observing patriarchy, I found it telling that the grandmother speaks so little. For the most part, she sheds silent tears over artifacts. )

Miranda the tight-rope walker?

I was interested in Miranda’s inability to pick a profession. As a girl she wants to be a jockey, and then a tight-rope walker, and as a young adult she wants to be an air-pilot. Miranda, it seems, has always been running away from conventions for women, much like Amy. Both women seem to be avoiding conventional roles (mother, caretaker, ect…). Amy avoids marriage, and wishes that instead of a husband she would rather have a dancing companion for the rest of her years. Miranda avoids traditional female jobs, and when she does marry, she does not consider it to be a life-long partnership. Both women prefer to be independent. What do you guys think of this parallel between the two girls?

Guilt and Violence

In Porter's "Noon Wine" the guilt that Mr. Thompson feels due to killing Mr. Hatch overcomes him and turns into violence. Thompson kills himself with a shotgun which is a very brutal way to commit suicide. It seemed to me that Hatch and Mr. Thompson's hallucination of Helton being killed were both very violent ways to die unlike just shooting someone. But rather killing someone with and axe or stabbing them in the stomach have a hanus ideal behind them. Also with Thompson's guilt, I am not convince that he necessarily feels guilt so much as he feels ashamed he tries everything to prove his innocence but if it was guilt wouldn't it be easier to admit he was wrong in killing Hatch rather than try to prove his innocence even in his suicide note he is still tryinging to prove he is innocent.

Old Mortality

Going along with the two previous posts, I thought the representation of hair in this story was interesting and might figure into the discussion of feminism. I know that talking about how hair represents femininity has probably come up in other English classes, and might be a little played out, but it was mentioned so many times in this story that I thought it deserved a little attention in the blog. I thought the scene which has been mentioned, where Amy cuts her hair after Gabriel compliments it, is an important scene. To me, this showed how the women wanted to be feminists (cutting off their long "feminine" hair that represents all sorts of feminine stereotypes) and making it short, but then they didn't really act as feminists (I guess depending on the definition one uses for "feminist").

Another thing I wanted to comment on was some of the misunderstandings in the story, like when cousin Eva is talking to Miranda, "Cousin Eva, my father shot at him, don't you remember? He didn't hit him...." (Porter 212). I think misunderstandings like this happen a lot in real life families, where someone remembers events differently than other family members, but you don't see misunderstandings too often in stories unless it is very intentional. This misunderstanding is interesting to me, because throughout the story I wondered why they started the story with the picture of Amy and what was going to come of that story. I think this scene is very important because so much of the first part of the story is their family history, and then we get this scene which really breaks down a lot of their understood family history. I think this scene is also important, because if Miranda had known the full truth about her family, I wonder if she would have turned out the same way, and if her story would have taken the same path as it did.

The Epistemology of Reputation in "Old Mortality"

Porter seems to be calling to the forefront the unreliability of reputation in "Old Mortality." The story opens with a photograph of Aunt Amy, but its accuracy in representing her is almost instantly called into question by Miranda's father, Harry. "'Her hair and her smile were her chief beauties, and they aren't show at all. She was much slimmer than that, too.'" (174) And then Harry's account of Amy is called into question by Cousin Eva in Part III, when she says that Amy "'was too thin when she was young, and later I always thought she was too fat, and again in her last year she was altogether too thin.'" (214-15) What are we, the readers, supposed to make of this elusive portrait?

Temper that response with what Miss Honey must think of Amy, when her husband brings Maria and Miranda over to demonstrate that the "'[b]oth of 'em rolled into one look a lot like Amy,'" (200), and with the feeling of Eva that the relationship between gabriel and Amy was "'a kind of lifelong infidelity . . . and now an enternal infidelity on top of that.'" (211) To Miss Honey, the quarrel is not was Amy beautiful, was she slim - she is constructed as entirely something else, as the other woman, even in death.

Reputations are constructed - but upon what? Consider the grandmother who, "twice a year compelled i her blood by the change of seasons, would sit nearly all of one day beside old trunks and boxes in the lumber room, unfolding layers of garments and small keepsakes "; Miranda and Maria "examined the objects, one by one, and did not find them, in themselves, impressive." (175) These little pockets of meaning for the grandmother, the combs and locks and feathers and flowers, are meaningless to the younger generation without some kind of exposition to understand them. Instead of sad souvenirs, artifacts of the past, they are tacky anachronisms, like fish out of water: they are "dowdy," "moth-eaten," "clumsy," "silly-looking," "yellowed," "faded," "misshapen," "cracking," and a host of other words that mean out of place and time (175).

So are reputations constructed on nothing? Several artifacts included or referenced directly in the narrative can surely establish the character of, or at least credible witness to, a person. The photograph of Aunt Amy is first and foremost - but Harry discounts its credibility. There are two letters near the end of Part I. The first is from Amy, and we find that she constructs herself within the letter - she is fond of frippery and horses, keen on scandal, and adoring of her mother. There is little insight to be gained from this letter except how Amy sees herself, or how she expects others to see her. The second letter is from Amy's nurse, and it hints to the suicide that Eva alludes to in Part III. It amounts to only another third person account of a character. (Is that a reflection of the narrative?)

The last artifact is Miranda's mother's diary. When Eva goes off on a diatribe about sex-obsession, Miranda defends her mother on habits that she hopes construct her character - cooking, sewing - and a personal record, Mariana's diary, which Miranda has read. Eva says, "'Your mother was a saint,'" - she is constructing a reputation - and Miranda is outraged, and so constructs a reputation of her own. "'My mother was nothing of the sort" (217).

So even personal testaments, such as letters or journals, cannot be trusted to be evaluated objectively - they are simply more supporting evidence in the inevitably subjective construction of a reputation.

What a flimsy construction! "Old Mortality" seems to say. Miranda's father "had a disconcerting way of inquiring, "How do you know?" when they forgot and made dogmatic statements in his presence. It always came out embarrassingly that they did not know at all" (184). Although every character is guilty of retelling someone else's story to fit their own motives, including Harry, each interpretation of another's life is equally as valid - provided that it is a qualified statement, open to common reinterpretation. Harry and Cousin Eva talk in the back of the car about "common memories, interrupting each other, catching each other up on small points of dispute" (220), leaving reputation open to interpretation long after the events that it is constructed from have transpired.

This reading is why the closing of the story struck me as so sad. Miranda sulks in the front seat, thinking, "I won't be romantic about myself. I can't live in their world any longer . . . Let them tell their stories to each other. Let them go on explaining how things happened. I don't care. At least I can know the truth about what happens to me" (221). The narrator lets on to the foolishness of this promise, calling it ignorance - for even as Miranda prepares to leave her vast, intersecting family and their stories for each other about each other, she will live on in their memories. In every letter they receive from her she will have constructed a self to be remembered by, to be reread later by a different generation as she read Amy's and so reinterpreted. Her exploits will live on at home despite the fact that she won't be there; Cousin Eva remembers that Miranda was "planning to be a tight rope walker . . . going to play the violin and walk the tight rope at the same time." (207) This brief snippet of a story serves, until the train, as Eva's last meemory of Miranda - and what bearing does that have on her character now, on who she is as a person?

Miranda cannot remove herself from herself to know the objective truth of her life; she will be constructing herself and play the victim to others' constructions of her and have a reputation created in which there may be small truths about her character, but no grand overarching ones.

So is Porter letting on that there is no real, objective truth - or simply outlining the means by which reputation is constructed?