A Companion to the American Short Story

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A Companion to the American Short Story Page 59

by Alfred Bendixen


  conduct.

  The contrast of the fi g tree and the dead chick, of life and death, parallel the con-

  trast of Miranda ’ s grandmother and great - aunt in the story. The grandmother repre-

  sents the traditional Southern woman confi ned by gender to a fi gurative straitjacket,

  a symbolic death in life or live burial, something which Miranda implicitly fears and

  rejects. The depiction of Great - Aunt Eliza is life affi rming and expansive, a clear

  repudiation of the precepts of Southern womanhood into which Miranda ’ s grand-

  mother, father, and Aunt Nannie, the family ’ s black retainer, have tried to circum-

  scribe Miranda. This traditional model threatens to bury Miranda alive; her imagining

  Katherine Anne Porter

  267

  that she has buried the chick alive projects her own fears of becoming a conventional

  woman as defi ned by her family. Great - Aunt Eliza is a signifi cantly different kind of

  Southern woman, who has clearly rejected the traditional woman ’ s role for one she

  has carved out for herself. Neither her appearance, nor her occupations, nor the objects

  identifi ed with her suggest anything genteel or well - bred. She enacts the traditional

  masculine occupations of supervisor and scientist. Not beautiful and ladylike, Eliza

  is a guide and role model for Miranda, illuminating an alternate path for her, as she

  guides Miranda through the darkened fi g grove holding her hand ( Collected Stories

  361). Miranda is in “ a fog of bliss ” at the conclusion of “ The Fig Tree ” not only

  because she comes to realize that she had not buried alive the baby chick at the town

  house. She also has learned that there is at least another model of womanhood, less

  suffocating, confi ning, and constrained than that posed by her grandmother. She has

  observed that a woman can both play her biological role determined by gender and

  have an active, meaningful self - fulfi lling life.

  Porter originally conceived of the other six stories published in Collected Stories

  under the heading “ The Old Order ” as a portion of a novel to be titled “ Midway of

  This Mortal Life. ” She sent “ 60 odd pages ” of the novel, titled “ Legend and Memory, ”

  to her publisher Donald Brace in April 1934. 16 The surviving portions of this manu-

  script among Porter ’ s papers consist of forty - two pages, forty of which comprise clean

  typescripts of three stories: “ The Grandmother ” (fi rst published as “ The Source ” in

  Accent , Spring 1941 ), “ The Circus ” (fi rst published in Southern Review , July 1935 ), and

  “

  The Old Order

  ”

  (fi rst published in

  Southern Review , Winter 1936 , retitled “ The

  Journey ” in Collected Stories ). In the manuscript, these stories are numbered I, III, and

  IV, respectively. From evidence in Porter ’ s correspondence, it is also possible to deter-

  mine the other stories missing from this manuscript ( “ The Witness, ” “ The Grave, ”

  and “ The Last Leaf ” ) as well as the numbering on them (II, V, and VI, respectively).

  These last three stories were the fi rst among them to be published, appearing in

  Virginia Quarterly Review in January and April 1935 .

  Porter planned for the entire novel to be set in the period between 1700 and 1918.

  An unnumbered page of the “ Legend and Memory ” manuscript indicates that the

  “ scene is laid in the southern states of the United States of America, time, between

  1827 and 1903

  ”

  and further asserts,

  “

  these fragments have not been selected at

  random, but run consecutively, making a unifi ed, if not complete, story in them-

  selves. ” 17 Porter further explained her method and plan in a May 31, 1934, letter to

  Charles A. Pearce of Harcourt, Brace:

  In This Legend and Memory manuscript, I have begun to use Time, past present and

  future as a means of showing each character as the whole sum of himself at any given

  moment: this is to say, the grandmother is old, but the child she was is still present in

  her memory, herself as child is shown beside her grand - daughter as child, and the old

  people live over within themselves every stage of themselves from infancy to their present.

  [ “ The Grave ” ] really is the fi rst step towards the future out of the past Miranda has

  lived in all her childhood. 18

  268

  Ruth M. Alvarez

  The six Old Order stories return to the characters and setting that Porter had created

  for “ The Fig Tree ” and later described as “ my past and my own house and my own

  people – the native land of my heart ” ( “ ‘ Noon Wine ’ : The Sources, ” Collected Essays

  470). Four of these characters, Miranda, her grandmother Sophia Jane, and two black

  former slaves, Aunt Nannie and Uncle Jimbilly, each appear as the central fi gure in

  at least one of the individual stories of the sequence.

  The grandmother is truly “ The Source, ” the title of the fi rst of the Old Order

  stories. Her memory is the source of the family legends that she recounts, passed on

  to Miranda, who, in turn, remembers and recounts them as well as her own memories

  of the grandmother and other family elders, who “ all talked and behaved as if the

  fi nal word had gone out long ago on manners, morality, religion, even politics

  ”

  ( “ ‘ Noon Wine ’ : The Sources, ” Collected Essays 471). “ The Source ” depicts the yearly

  trip the grandmother makes to her farm in the country, where her three unnamed

  grandchildren are sent after school is closed. Although her son Harry, the father of

  the three children, is annoyed at the upsets and inconveniences of these annual visits,

  the grandmother ’ s arrival has a salutary effect on the place and its inhabitants. Observ-

  ing that “ everything is out of order ” ( Collected Stories 322), she directs the cleaning

  and refurbishing of the Negro huts, the making of new clothes for the Negro men,

  women, and children, the cleaning and setting to order of the main house, and sees

  that that same “ restoring touch ” is applied to the barns, smokehouses, potato cellar,

  and “ every tree or vine or bush ” (324). In addition, she soothes dozens of small injuries

  and complaints arisen since her last visit. Her dominion extends to the three mother-

  less grandchildren who loved her as their “ only reality ” but felt that she was a “ tyrant ”

  from whom “ they wished to be free ” (324). The visit culminates with her ritual of

  riding her “ weary, disheartened old ” saddle horse Fiddler (324) and an “ easy stroll in

  the orchards with nothing to do, ” as, with nothing more to restore to order, she can

  return to “ the place in town, ” “ which no doubt had gone somewhat astray in her

  absence ” (325). Although the grandmother chooses to believe that “ she herself walked

  lightly and breathed as easily as ever, ” the ironic third person narrator subtly suggests

  that the old order, which she represents, is declining, like Fiddler and herself, to its

  certain end (325).

  Uncle Jimbilly, who appears briefl y in “ The Fig Tree, ” is the central character in

  “ The Witness. ” His testimony is of slavery, and he recounts both legendary tales and

  his own m
emories of the hardships and horrors of slavery. Bent, stiff, and hobbled by

  many years of building, mending, replacing, and repairing things, Uncle Jimbilly, a

  former slave, tells the three children, identifi ed by name as Miranda, Paul, and Maria,

  bloody tales of torture and death in slave times. Both his person and his stories make

  the children feel guilty, but they retain a measure of skepticism about his personal

  suffering and the accuracy of his slave narratives. They observe that he “ had got over

  his slavery very well. Since they had known him, he had never done a single thing

  that anyone told him to do ” ( Collected Stories 341). In addition, the veracity of slave

  legends is called into question by his “ exorbitant ” threats of murder and mayhem,

  “ that not even the most credulous child could be terrifi ed by them ” (342). But slavery

  Katherine Anne Porter

  269

  and the plight of Southern Negroes is not the central concern of “ The Witness. ” That

  concern is death, the profound and ubiquitous theme of many of Porter ’ s short stories.

  Uncle Jimbilly carves miniature tombstones for the small beasts and birds the children

  bury with “ proper ceremonies ” and replies when prompted that “ thousands and tens

  upon thousands ” perished in slave times (341, 342). In his own person, he bears

  witness to the physical deterioration and certain death to which all of humanity is

  subject.

  Miranda is the central intelligence in “ The Circus. ” Like her grandmother, Miranda

  is attending her fi rst circus in the company of a large party that includes her nuclear

  family and about a dozen members of her extended family – great aunts, fi rst and

  second cousins, an uncle, and an aunt – on the occasion of a family reunion. Signifi -

  cantly, Miranda is “ fearfully excited ” before she notices “ the bold grinning ” stares of

  “ roughly dressed little boys peeping up ” the skirts of female members of her party

  ( Collected Stories 344). This vaguely sexual threat colors Miranda ’ s reaction to the high

  wire act of a man dressed in a Pierrot costume: when she realizes that he could be

  injured or killed, she covers her eyes, screams, and cries. Her father and grandmother

  order Miranda ’ s Negro servant minder, Dicey, to take the hysterical girl away. As

  they depart, a dwarf “ made a horrid grimace at her, imitating her own face ” and, after

  Miranda struck at him, followed this with “ a look of haughty, remote displeasure, a

  true grown - up look ” (345). When the remainder of the family party returns from the

  circus, Miranda learns what she has missed and is maliciously taunted for “ spoiling

  the day for Dicey ” (346). Bursting into tears again, Miranda is taken away, falls asleep,

  and is awakened by a nightmare: “ the bitter terrifi ed face of the man in blowsy white

  falling to his death … and the terrible grimace of the unsmiling dwarf ” (347). It is

  Dicey, not her father or grandmother, who responds to Miranda ’ s screams, but Dicey

  can do little to address Miranda ’ s inchoate fears of sexuality and death.

  The single most important story in the Old Order sequence is “ The Journey. ”

  Indeed, most of the sequence ’ s “ legend and memory ” resides in this story set in the

  period between 1827 and 1901, the life span of Porter ’ s paternal grandmother, which

  is assigned both specifi cally and by inference to the fi ctional Sophia Jane, Miranda ’ s

  grandmother. Although the story opens when the grandmother and her former slave

  Nannie are in “ their later years, ” it limns their parallel life journeys. While fi tting

  together “ scraps of the family fi nery ” into more or less useful household furnishings,

  their conversation and recollections can be pieced together by the reader into a fairly

  complete family history ( Collected Stories 326). Born to a genteel slaveowning family

  in Kentucky, Sophia Jane received Nannie as a gift as a child of fi ve. Both marry at

  seventeen to men deemed suitable by Sophia Jane ’ s elders. Sophia Jane marries her

  second cousin Stephen; and “ Nannie was married off to a boy she had known ever

  since she came to the family, and they were given as a wedding present to Miss Sophia

  Jane. ” Their ensuing “ grim and terrible race of procreation ” results in eleven births

  for Sophia Jane and thirteen for Nannie (334). When Nannie nearly dies of puerperal

  fever after the births of each of their fourth children, Sophia Jane nurses both the

  children, experiences a “ sensual warm pleasure ” “ missed in the marriage bed, ” and,

  270

  Ruth M. Alvarez

  henceforth, “ resolved never again to be cheated ” by “ giving her children to another

  woman to feed ” (334).

  Wounded and ruined in the Civil War, Sophia Jane ’ s “ selfi sh, careless, unloving ”

  husband dies, having used her dowry and property for “ wild investments in strange

  territories: Louisiana, Texas ” (335, 337). “ Left so, ” Sophia Jane moves her nine chil-

  dren, Nannie and her three sons, Uncle Jimbilly, and two other Negroes, fi rst to

  Louisiana where “ she sold out at a loss, ” and fi nally to “ a large tract of fertile black

  land in an almost unsettled part ” of Texas (337, 338). By dint of her merciless driving

  of herself, her children, the Negroes, and the horses, the grandmother is able to build

  a “ stronghold … for the future of her family ” (337). Taking on “ all the responsibili-

  ties of her tangled world, half white, half black, mingling steadily, ” Sophia Jane comes

  to despise men – the young male relatives whose “ headstrong habits ” resulted in the

  birth of mixed - blood children in the Negro quarters, her husband and her sons who

  “ threw away ” family assets and married women of whom she did not approve (337,

  339). Revitalized by taking on her son Harry ’ s three motherless children, she begins

  “ life again, with almost the same zest, and with more indulgence, ” only to drop dead

  suddenly on a visit to the home of one of her sons in far western Texas (339 – 40).

  Through the story of Sophia Jane ’ s journey through life, Porter explores the roles and

  experiences of women – Sophia Jane is a daughter, belle, wife, mother, and grand-

  mother. The story also examines the culture of the American South, with its history

  of slavery, miscegenation, defeat in the Civil War, and postwar poverty. Finally the

  story explores the subjects of death and sexuality, the universal concerns to which

  Porter returned again and again.

  Miranda is the central character in “ The Grave, ” the fi fth of the Old Order stories

  in the 1934 manuscript. In it, sexuality and death, the unstated “ fathomless terrors ”

  that “ subjugated ” Miranda in “ The Circus, ” are overtly linked ( Collected Stories 347).

  Although narrated in the third person, “ The Grave ” depicts a remembered incident

  from Miranda ’ s life, specifi cally 1903, when she was nine years old. Walking in “ a

  market street in a strange city of a strange country ” “ nearly twenty years later, ” the

  “ episode of that far - off day leaped from its burial place before her mind ’ s eye, ” evoked

  by the heat and smell of “ mingled sweetness and corruption, ” like that on the day of

  the remembered epi
sode (367). The main action of the story takes place on the day

  on which Miranda and her twelve - year - old brother Paul took a break from hunting

  rabbits and doves to explore the empty graves of their paternal grandfather and other

  “ oddments ” of Kentucky relatives in what was formerly the family cemetery on their

  grandmother ’ s fi rst farm (362). Miranda fi nds a silver - colored screw head for a coffi n

  in her grandfather ’ s grave, while Paul unearths a “ thin wide gold ring carved with

  intricate fl owers and leaves ” (363). After the children trade their fi nds, Miranda loses

  interest in shooting after she places the gold ring on her thumb. Contemplating the

  glittering ring, Miranda becomes aware of the confl ict between the mores of the “ old

  order

  ”

  and her father

  ’

  s

  “

  simple and natural

  ”

  common sense (365). Corncob

  -

  pipe

  smoking old crones had chided her for breaking the “ the back country ” “ law of female

  decorum ” with her “ summer roughing outfi t ” of overalls, shirt, straw hat, and sandals,

  Katherine Anne Porter

  271

  attire that her father had defended as utilitarian and economical (364). Her feelings

  turning against the masculine clothing, Miranda wishes to return to the farmhouse

  to bathe and “ put on the thinnest, most becoming dress she owned, ” experiencing

  “ vague stirrings of desire for luxury … founded on family legend of past wealth and

  leisure ” (365).

  Her reverie is interpreted when Paul shoots a pregnant rabbit, and they examine

  it together. Seeing the rabbit fetuses, Miranda understands, “ what she had to know, ”

  that she, like the rabbit, can bear young, and that knowledge makes her “ quietly and

  terribly agitated ” (367). Her brother ’ s subsequent actions also worry her and make

  her unhappy

  –

  he hides the rabbit carcasses and swears Miranda to secrecy. The

  unstated lesson is that female sexual activity, which may result in pregnancy, is some-

  thing she “ ought not to do, ” “ an important secret ” to be kept between herself and

 

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