The various sexual intrigues in the book don't interest me at all. It is only the spiritual bond between Ántonia and Jim that interests me, and keeps me reading....
The dream itself involves Jim becoming the object of affection; to be loved. The dream-Lena is alone with him to kiss him as much as he likes. There is an element of submission here. To submit is it die, to submit is to give in, to relinquish control. He desires and fears to be wanted in this way: that is the heart of the dream wish. The transposition of Lena for Tony allows him to imagine himself desired without projecting his fears onto Tony. His love for her remains pure; uncorrupted by the threat of mortality. Jim's mother is dead. He never mentions it, but Grandmother does indirectly when she confronts him about slipping out to the Fireman's Hall dances. Jim knows in his bones that love and loss are a package deal; before he knows it in his head and makes sense of his experiences with girls.
How interesting: "His love for her remains pure; uncorrupted by the threat of mortality." It seems that you disagree with Gelfant, then, who sees Jim's love as a kind of delusion, or its purity as a fantasy that allows him to avoid sexual fears? Sorry, lapsing back into English professor mode, playing Devil's Advocate :)
I considered whether this is an erotomanic delusion of his; it is possible. Erotomania is a delusional disorder in which a person believes someone else has fallen in love with them. But usually that person is someone with whom it is inappropriate or taboo to have romantic relations (a priest, a doctor) and this kind of delusion usually occurs in women rather than men. In the TV series Two and A Half Men the character of Rose thinks Charlie Sheen's character is in love with her and she is aroused by this fantasy that he wants her but can't have her. Rose has an erotomanic delusion. But Jim doesn't. So I don't think the argument that Jim suffers from a delusion to avoid sexual fears quite fits. In the psychoanalytic schools, I am more inclined toward object-relations theory than traditional Freudian interpretations.
Jim's masculine identity seems to be relevant to this coming-of-age section. He seems to have been sexually neutered by the girls he grew up with like sisters. These are working girls, and seen by some in town as nearly sexually promiscuous with their dancing behaviors. This provides Lena with the hook of eroticism/death symbolism and Tony the unrequited love. To have been mistaken as Tony by Wick Cutter seems to have been a source of shame to him; he allows his grandmother to bathe him. Jim seems to have little understanding here about what Wick Cutter did to him or girls who worked for him. I think about this section as when Jim learns what it means to be a man. We also learn from Cather about what it means to be a woman, and how a woman like Mrs. Cutter would stay married to a dick like Wick as the best avenue of resistance for surviving her circumstances.
Yes, the fact that the hired girls don't take Jim seriously as a young man -- only as an intellectual talent -- is a kind of neutering. It's interesting how his coming of age seems to regress here. On the one hand, he's learning about how the world works; on the other, he's not being strengthened by that knowledge. Instead, he reverts back to an infantile state. Not that his trauma doesn't warrant some healing -- maybe any victim deserves to curl into a ball for a while? It's interesting how the standards of masculinity seem to steer us toward different conclusions about Jim's reaction than we might draw if a woman had suffered from Cutter's assault. A "man" might have agreed with Grandmother that taking Ántonia's place was indeed the best outcome, since it prevented a worse form of predation. But conventional masculinity is expected to minimize physical and emotional pain, which Jim seems unable to do. Perhaps it's unfair of us to expect him to do so?
What does he learn about masculinity from men like Cutter? Men are able inflict emotional and physical pain without repercussion because they know it can be masked and minimized as normal. He learns sexuality is about violence and power, not love or tenderness or kindness. I agree a "man" might have seen himself as having saved the virtue of Tony, a hero, of sorts. But in being so badly beaten he is defeated of his delusion of heroism altogether.
“I have found Mrs. Cutters all over the world; sometimes founding new religions, sometimes being forcibly fed —easily recognizable, even when superficially tamed.” This dig says so much about the variety of ways women resisted while sustaining the structures of economic class, race, ethnicity.
Interesting -- might it also be read as a dismissal of Mrs. Cutter as a Victorian-era madwoman? She's not exactly Bertha Rochester, but she seems to fit the type. And it's interesting to note that Cather coauthored a biography of Mary Baker Eddy, the founder of Christian Science. Neither association seems positive?
Oh, I hadn't known she'd coauthored a biography of Mary Baker Eddy. Yes, I read it as dismissive; as one manifestation of symptoms wrought by a larger system
Joshua, this is intriguing to me because when I read Cather, I don't feel that I am reading something overtly sexual. Perhaps I am not picking up on the clues, or I might just be clueless about those themes; I am unsure. Throughout My Antonia and others of her works, I do sense tension and certainly attraction. I suppose it is necessary to put ourselves in the times in which it was written. We are often so bombarded with sexual imagery and flagrantly sexual storylines that we become inured to it. Maybe this desensitization has made it more difficult for me to pick up on those ideas in older writing where the ideas are not so in my face. I think also my overall perception when reading Cather is one of pastoral innocence. That is certainly my bias, but it likely influences the way I perceive scenes within her stories. Where some critics or readers may interpret overt sexual tension, my mind went more toward innocence and naivete. I think of Jim as reminiscing about Antonia in a childlike way. Even though there is an attraction there, I feel it is based on their days as children together. It is a longing for a simpler time, a remembrance. I am not a professional critic, but this is how those ideas felt in my mind while reading. Great essay and thanks for the questions.
Thanks for commenting, Matthew. The pastoral effect you describe is what Gelfant believes Cather is aiming at -- whether that innocence is the truth or a deflection of the truth is part of the scholarly debate! Do you agree that there are sexual overtones in the dream about Lena?
Joining the dance a bit late, but I enjoyed your remarks and questions, as well as the comments here. Since my aim is to catch up with your next post as well, I'll just note a few things here. First, the image of the plow disappearing on the horizon was so strikingly sublime, I stopped my run to rewind and listen again. I saw it as a powerful reminder of the vastness of nature, the puniness of our attempts to control and reform the land: "that forgotten plough had sunk back to its own littleness somewhere on the prairie." True, she notes earlier that the native prairie was plowed over for corn, but maybe both are true?
Next, I found the section earlier in that chapter where Jim lectures the girls about Spanish history to be curious. At first, I expected a long passage of Cather shoehorning in some info she found fascinating. But going back to it now, I appreciate how it hints at layers of history and even a mythic attitude about place. I didn't know what the "Seven Golden Cities" were, but I didn't need to to feel the undertones of mystery.
And finally, the chapter on Cutter's assault was harrowing. Rereading that passage, I'm impressed anew with Cather's skill at keeping the story moving quickly. The whole assault, which loomed huge in my head as I listened, is a mere few paragraphs on the page. Her alternation of short and long sentences, and use of many gerund verbs at the end drives the violence home.
And the aftermath is an equally efficient two paragraphs. In the second, he says something about Antonia that surprised and upset me: "I hated her almost as much as I hated Cutter. She had let me in for all this disgustingness." Sure, he's hurting and traumatized, but his blunt honesty to blame her seems out of character.
You capture one of Cather's secrets to timelessness here: "I didn't know what the "Seven Golden Cities" were, but I didn't need to to feel the undertones of mystery." She is so good at hinting at deeper layers without tediously subjecting us to them! This makes her fiction accessible to readers of all levels. Cather scholars spend a lifetime following these clues, which invariably yield satisfying insights.
Especially near the end of her career, Cather saw art as a process of simplification -- hiding most of the research and revision.
And, yes, the way she gives us just enough of the Cutter scene to make it poignant, but leaves so much implied, seems to me the secret of writing any kind of violence. Either take some of it offstage or show it, but turn the volume down on it.
As someone who adores research, simplification is an excellent, timely reminder for me. As long as the steppingstones are there, the reader has the pleasure of bringing their own imagination to it.
Thank you, Sadie. May I ask why you see it as a spiritual bond?
The various sexual intrigues in the book don't interest me at all. It is only the spiritual bond between Ántonia and Jim that interests me, and keeps me reading....
The dream itself involves Jim becoming the object of affection; to be loved. The dream-Lena is alone with him to kiss him as much as he likes. There is an element of submission here. To submit is it die, to submit is to give in, to relinquish control. He desires and fears to be wanted in this way: that is the heart of the dream wish. The transposition of Lena for Tony allows him to imagine himself desired without projecting his fears onto Tony. His love for her remains pure; uncorrupted by the threat of mortality. Jim's mother is dead. He never mentions it, but Grandmother does indirectly when she confronts him about slipping out to the Fireman's Hall dances. Jim knows in his bones that love and loss are a package deal; before he knows it in his head and makes sense of his experiences with girls.
How interesting: "His love for her remains pure; uncorrupted by the threat of mortality." It seems that you disagree with Gelfant, then, who sees Jim's love as a kind of delusion, or its purity as a fantasy that allows him to avoid sexual fears? Sorry, lapsing back into English professor mode, playing Devil's Advocate :)
I considered whether this is an erotomanic delusion of his; it is possible. Erotomania is a delusional disorder in which a person believes someone else has fallen in love with them. But usually that person is someone with whom it is inappropriate or taboo to have romantic relations (a priest, a doctor) and this kind of delusion usually occurs in women rather than men. In the TV series Two and A Half Men the character of Rose thinks Charlie Sheen's character is in love with her and she is aroused by this fantasy that he wants her but can't have her. Rose has an erotomanic delusion. But Jim doesn't. So I don't think the argument that Jim suffers from a delusion to avoid sexual fears quite fits. In the psychoanalytic schools, I am more inclined toward object-relations theory than traditional Freudian interpretations.
Now I'm curious about object-relations theory :). I have to sign off until tomorrow, but am grateful for your thoughtful contributions, as always!
Jim's masculine identity seems to be relevant to this coming-of-age section. He seems to have been sexually neutered by the girls he grew up with like sisters. These are working girls, and seen by some in town as nearly sexually promiscuous with their dancing behaviors. This provides Lena with the hook of eroticism/death symbolism and Tony the unrequited love. To have been mistaken as Tony by Wick Cutter seems to have been a source of shame to him; he allows his grandmother to bathe him. Jim seems to have little understanding here about what Wick Cutter did to him or girls who worked for him. I think about this section as when Jim learns what it means to be a man. We also learn from Cather about what it means to be a woman, and how a woman like Mrs. Cutter would stay married to a dick like Wick as the best avenue of resistance for surviving her circumstances.
Yes, the fact that the hired girls don't take Jim seriously as a young man -- only as an intellectual talent -- is a kind of neutering. It's interesting how his coming of age seems to regress here. On the one hand, he's learning about how the world works; on the other, he's not being strengthened by that knowledge. Instead, he reverts back to an infantile state. Not that his trauma doesn't warrant some healing -- maybe any victim deserves to curl into a ball for a while? It's interesting how the standards of masculinity seem to steer us toward different conclusions about Jim's reaction than we might draw if a woman had suffered from Cutter's assault. A "man" might have agreed with Grandmother that taking Ántonia's place was indeed the best outcome, since it prevented a worse form of predation. But conventional masculinity is expected to minimize physical and emotional pain, which Jim seems unable to do. Perhaps it's unfair of us to expect him to do so?
What does he learn about masculinity from men like Cutter? Men are able inflict emotional and physical pain without repercussion because they know it can be masked and minimized as normal. He learns sexuality is about violence and power, not love or tenderness or kindness. I agree a "man" might have seen himself as having saved the virtue of Tony, a hero, of sorts. But in being so badly beaten he is defeated of his delusion of heroism altogether.
“I have found Mrs. Cutters all over the world; sometimes founding new religions, sometimes being forcibly fed —easily recognizable, even when superficially tamed.” This dig says so much about the variety of ways women resisted while sustaining the structures of economic class, race, ethnicity.
Interesting -- might it also be read as a dismissal of Mrs. Cutter as a Victorian-era madwoman? She's not exactly Bertha Rochester, but she seems to fit the type. And it's interesting to note that Cather coauthored a biography of Mary Baker Eddy, the founder of Christian Science. Neither association seems positive?
Oh, I hadn't known she'd coauthored a biography of Mary Baker Eddy. Yes, I read it as dismissive; as one manifestation of symptoms wrought by a larger system
Joshua, this is intriguing to me because when I read Cather, I don't feel that I am reading something overtly sexual. Perhaps I am not picking up on the clues, or I might just be clueless about those themes; I am unsure. Throughout My Antonia and others of her works, I do sense tension and certainly attraction. I suppose it is necessary to put ourselves in the times in which it was written. We are often so bombarded with sexual imagery and flagrantly sexual storylines that we become inured to it. Maybe this desensitization has made it more difficult for me to pick up on those ideas in older writing where the ideas are not so in my face. I think also my overall perception when reading Cather is one of pastoral innocence. That is certainly my bias, but it likely influences the way I perceive scenes within her stories. Where some critics or readers may interpret overt sexual tension, my mind went more toward innocence and naivete. I think of Jim as reminiscing about Antonia in a childlike way. Even though there is an attraction there, I feel it is based on their days as children together. It is a longing for a simpler time, a remembrance. I am not a professional critic, but this is how those ideas felt in my mind while reading. Great essay and thanks for the questions.
Thanks for commenting, Matthew. The pastoral effect you describe is what Gelfant believes Cather is aiming at -- whether that innocence is the truth or a deflection of the truth is part of the scholarly debate! Do you agree that there are sexual overtones in the dream about Lena?
Joining the dance a bit late, but I enjoyed your remarks and questions, as well as the comments here. Since my aim is to catch up with your next post as well, I'll just note a few things here. First, the image of the plow disappearing on the horizon was so strikingly sublime, I stopped my run to rewind and listen again. I saw it as a powerful reminder of the vastness of nature, the puniness of our attempts to control and reform the land: "that forgotten plough had sunk back to its own littleness somewhere on the prairie." True, she notes earlier that the native prairie was plowed over for corn, but maybe both are true?
Next, I found the section earlier in that chapter where Jim lectures the girls about Spanish history to be curious. At first, I expected a long passage of Cather shoehorning in some info she found fascinating. But going back to it now, I appreciate how it hints at layers of history and even a mythic attitude about place. I didn't know what the "Seven Golden Cities" were, but I didn't need to to feel the undertones of mystery.
And finally, the chapter on Cutter's assault was harrowing. Rereading that passage, I'm impressed anew with Cather's skill at keeping the story moving quickly. The whole assault, which loomed huge in my head as I listened, is a mere few paragraphs on the page. Her alternation of short and long sentences, and use of many gerund verbs at the end drives the violence home.
And the aftermath is an equally efficient two paragraphs. In the second, he says something about Antonia that surprised and upset me: "I hated her almost as much as I hated Cutter. She had let me in for all this disgustingness." Sure, he's hurting and traumatized, but his blunt honesty to blame her seems out of character.
You capture one of Cather's secrets to timelessness here: "I didn't know what the "Seven Golden Cities" were, but I didn't need to to feel the undertones of mystery." She is so good at hinting at deeper layers without tediously subjecting us to them! This makes her fiction accessible to readers of all levels. Cather scholars spend a lifetime following these clues, which invariably yield satisfying insights.
Especially near the end of her career, Cather saw art as a process of simplification -- hiding most of the research and revision.
And, yes, the way she gives us just enough of the Cutter scene to make it poignant, but leaves so much implied, seems to me the secret of writing any kind of violence. Either take some of it offstage or show it, but turn the volume down on it.
As someone who adores research, simplification is an excellent, timely reminder for me. As long as the steppingstones are there, the reader has the pleasure of bringing their own imagination to it.