Final Paper

Scott Fisher

Evelev

Final Paper

December 9, 2010

A Barbaric look and a Compassionate Nature

The sun is setting over the vast rolling hills of the New England landscape. The smell of a warm summer’s day still lingers in the air as the… As mankind discovers more and more ways to detach themselves from their origins in nature, our personal identifications as members of the animal kingdom are slowly left by the wayside. When comparing the two literary works, The Land of Little Rain, by Mary Austin, and, McTeague, by Frank Norris, it is clear that the authors have very different views of the landscape and humans when compared to being animalistic.

Nature is an unavoidable aspect of life. This is a view indirectly presented by both authors throughout their works. Whether it be through an unfortunate circumstance or by choice, people cannot avoid their roots in the circle of life, however people can choose to limit the allotted time within nature. Austin’s approach to nature is one of empathy and compassion. Austin sees the usefulness and wonderment of nature. To her nature is beautiful and the idea of man using it for one thing or another doesn’t make the land any ‘happier.’

“It is a still field, this of my neighbor’s, though so busy, and admirably compounded for variety and pleasantness, - a little sand, a little loam, a grassy plot, a stony rise of two, a full brown stream…” (Austin 54).

Austin has a fondness of simplicity, which is made clear in this passage. It is when there is an imputation of human activity that the simplicity is disrupted. The mankind that imposes an agenda of our own on nature is different from the agendas of the Shoshones, another group of humans that coexists and cooperate with nature. During that last part of this passage, which leads to the end of the chapter, Austin asks herself how she thinks the field will welcome this change to its life.

“… it occurs to me that though the field may serve a good turn in those days it will hardly be happier. No, certainly not happier” (Austin 55).

Norris’s McTeague takes a far different approach to nature and its uses. The descriptions of nature are in the gold mines or used to ranching. This rape of the land seems to be the only thing it is useful for. Either you are in control of nature or it is in control of you. In Norris’s novel, Marcus, one of the more major characters, makes the decision to leave him home and start ranching. This is a clear example of man’s control of nature for his benefit. Another example discussed during the reading is the idea of gold mining. The gold rush of 1849 was a huge reason for settling in California during this time. Though the novel for written fifty years later, gold was still being mined in parts of the state. This is just another example of man bending nature to his will and for personal gain and agenda. Austin tends to give more merit to the style of living that does not result in gains only on the side of man.

At the end of Norris’s story, nature is the one that gets the best of man. Since the control of their fate was left up to harsh environment of Death Valley, both men were doomed to perish under the blazing heat of the mid-day’s sun. Whether or not this was an intentional idea of Norris’s, it is interesting that he either shows man in control of nature or the other way around. It seems that he is showing this struggle between the things that occur naturally as opposed to things that can be influenced by the abstract thought of man.

The analysis of animalist characteristics is a second and very large part of each authors’ analysis of the human psyche. To Norris, it appears that the embrace of our animalistic tendencies is a digression in mankind’s evolution. McTeague is described as a person with these negative animal inclinations that are harmful to mankind. “It was the red flag in the eyes of the bull” (Norris 235). McTeague is a brutish man who is driving by passion and lust. This individual rarely uses the use of thinking skills and his ambitions are inward and selfish. Even the love of his wife is something for his own gain. He does not seem to care much for the woman that has entrusted her love and life to this man. Norris attributes most of the selfish behavior in his book to being selfish and self-centered. Each person that displays these walks of life (the three main characters) live stressful and horrible lives and all meet a violent or torturous demise.

“But her resistance was the one thing to drive him to the top of his fury. He came back at her again, his eyes drawn to two fine twinkling points, and his enormous fists, clenched till the knuckles whitened, raised in the air” (Norris 285).

This description of one human taking another’s life is very different form the approach the Austin gives her readers. Norris describes an animalistic killing as brutal and excessively violent. Austin however, gives a very different look at killing and a respect that goes along with it. In Austin’s version of an animalistic killing, the Shoshone people see that a member of their tribe has not been able to perform his task. Because he has lost his purpose he is to be executed as punishment. Even though death is a severe punishment, it is not done with a sense of distain or resentment but with love and compassion. It pains these men of nature to have to dispatch one of their own.

“So much has the Indian lost of savageness by merely desisting from killing, that the executioners braved themselves to their work by drinking and a show of quarrelsomeness. In the end a sharp hatchet-stroke discharged the duty of the campoodie” (Austin 40).

There are no fists that were brought down upon this medicine man. For the natives, living things should be met with a quick and painless death. McTeague on the other hand, beats his foes to death with his own hands. Using his tremendous size to overpower his enemies. Trinia, his wife, was not the only person to meet his fists of fury. At the end of the tale, McTeague turns his brutish strength on his friend Marcus as the two fights over a sack of money. Though the two are trapped in an inhospitable environment, they are still driven by their own pride and selfish egos. When the Shoshone people decided to kill a person it is with reason and purpose, never for personal gain.

Comparing people to animals in never a bad thing if Austin is the one giving the analysis.

“Very clean and handsome, quite belying his relationship in appearance, is Clark’s crow. That scavenger and plunderer of mountain camps. It is permissible to call him by his common name, “Camp Robber:” he has earned it” (Austin 23).

The crow is described not as a mangy scavenger but as brilliant and resourceful. He takes advantage of the was provided by man and fills himself with nourishment. Thus, being animalistic in this sense would be seen as she described: clean and handsome. He has earned his title.

A bit later in the text, the Shoshone are compared to the coyotes. Though this is a blatant comparison, no harm is meant by it. Back on the same page as the quote from above, the coyote is described as a “lazy dog,” that will eat that which has already been killed. This shows the same resourcefulness as Clark’s crow. This resourcefulness does not leave anything wasted and is a characteristic of those who are clean and handsome.

We have established that in Norris’s text, either man takes control of nature or nature takes control of man. It also important to remind the reader that Norris often compares and characterizes his main brutish character, McTeague, to an animal and having animalistic characteristics. It is then interesting to realize that the man who sets himself after McTeague, post the murder of Trina, would be a man who is a rancher (Someone that, as a profession, presides of a large expansion of land). This is another example of man (Marcus the rancher) needed to try and take control over a natural opponent (McTeague). In the end he lets nature get the best of him and is killed by McTeague.

Selfish animalistic behavior is seen to be something negative in the eyes of Norris. In a harsh environment such as the one Norris’s tale takes place, it is easy to see how the people themselves become harsh and self-centered. This is not seen in the same way Austin sees it, probably due to the unforgivable conditions Norris’s characters have to live with. In Austin’s environment, there is a much more abundance of life and life sustaining environment. Austin is able to express her fascination far more easily than Norris because of this reason. There is not the same stress for her characters to live under.

To Norris, the environment is something to fear and respect because of that fear. Those who inhabit that land need to live with the same ferocity to live otherwise they will perish. If they are not strong others who are fighting for that same right to live in that landscape will overcome enough them. For Austin the environment is something to be in awe of and respect because of the awe. She was able to observe a landscape fit for a peaceful life. In contrast to Norris, Austin’s subjects are not subjected to test of strength and survival like Norris’s characters, rather they can live off the land as scavengers if need be, not brutish killers.

Norris and Austin differ on views of landscape and nature because of the environment in which their stories take place. It is due to these different landscapes that there are differences of opinion. When comparing the two literary works, The Land of Little Rain, by Mary Austin, and, McTeague, by Frank Norris, it is clear that the authors have very different views of the landscape and humans when compared to being animalistic. Norris does not see nature as reliable as Austin; to him she is a harsh mistress. To Norris, the environment is something to fear and for Austin the environment is something to be in awe of.

Experiences within Spaces: Comparing experiences from "The Country of the Pointed Firs" and experiences from my own life.

In apartment 303 there are many reasons that you could identify this space as a place. A space where someone moves, breathes and lives but the memories of this space don’t come from this apartment, they come from the past. The past where we can thrive on the memories that once were alive. We might be able to think about what once was, but we will never be able to re-live these memories, the only way they can survive is through brief moments that draw us back in. A place can be significant to anyone, what justifies a place to be more than just a random space filled with air? Is it the smell that captivates you when you walk in, is the stained tile floor that takes you back to a different time or its the people that live in these spaces that make them what they are. To me, spaces are not places until someone takes the time to make memories out of the things that dwell in these places.

The smell of this space is so nostalgic but the instant you step out of apartment 303, that sense of emotion is swept right beneath you. This apartment is a symbol of time, symbol of change and a symbol of loss. In this 600 ft square apartment you can look around and see so many pictures that inspire thoughts of what once was but it is the wonderful woman who lives in this apartment that makes these vivid pictures come alive. I have been blessed to have a wonderful Grandmother, who helps me accept things that I cannot change. She accepts time and change with open arms. She makes you feel like you will be young forever. Yes, she does live in a tiny apartment but the instant you walk in, it becomes a huge globe of ideas, thoughts, and inspirations. For me, going to apartment 303 is like walking into a space where time stops. It’s a space where all anxieties of life go out the window, my Grandmother is a symbol of hope. She gives inspiration in a space that someone would see as a jail, but in this space she see’s it as another opportunity to do something with her life. When reading The Country of the Pointed Firs, there is a character that is a mirror image of my Grandmother. Mrs. Todd’s mother. The way that Sarah Orne Jewett describes her, gives me an instant reminder of who my Grandmother is. When Mrs. Todd is explaining her mother she describes, “She’s seen all the trouble folks can see, without it’s her last sickness; an’ she’s got a word of courage for everybody. Life ain’t spoilt her a mite. She’s eighty-six and I’m sixty seven, and I’ve seen the time I’ve felt a good sight the oldest” (Jewett 29). This brief description that Mrs. Todd gives to the narrator is an exact picture of who my Grandma is. These women take their age, their experiences and whatever life throws at them and try to make the best possible outcomes. Through a brief visit to Mrs. Todd’s mother’s house in the novel, there are similarities between the mother and my Grandmother that become so clear.

Apartment 303 is a retirement home where my Grandma lives, she has been living there for 6 years. Before moving into to 303, she lived in the same house for 50 years. My grandmother, like most older people, accepted that she could no longer take care of a big house and made the decision to move into a place that would be easier for her to live. For myself, my Father and the rest of my family, it was heartbreaking to see her move out of the house. It was symbol of growing up and to her; it was her life that she was leaving behind. Most people would be devastated to move out of place that holds so many memories but for my Grandma, it was just another chapter in her life. Every Tuesday I am blessed with the time to go have lunch with my Grandma. It is the same thing every time, we get the same order, we sit in the same place and it is a time and place that I know exactly how things will go. As an anxious college student I am always worrying about what will happen next, what I’m supposed to do with my life but when walking into her apartment, it is a place where I, along with my life, stops. If you were an outsider looking in, you would be amazed at the inner youth my Grandmother holds. Like Mrs. Todd’s mother she is a, “delightful little person, with bright eyes and an affectionate air of expectation like a child on a holiday” (35). She understands the meaning of life, what we are supposed to do, how we are supposed to deal with things. For someone whose life is close to an end, she lives everyday like she has a thousand more left. Her ideals mirror Mrs. Todd’s mother because she has this sense of time, that there is an infinite amount. When the narrator is describing Mrs. Todd’s mothers house, there is a sense of remembrance and I feel a connection to the narrator because like her, walking into a retirement home is nothing meaningful but seeing my Grandmother’s apartment is like a rush of emotion, seeing her life through her memories.

There are certain distinctions in The Country of Pointed Firs that make Mrs. Todd’s mother’s house on Green Island very distinct. It’s not the house that makes it so special, it is the woman who lives in this house that makes it exclusive. When Jewett describes the house and the objects within it, it is easy to compare her feelings, to my Grandmother’s feelings about her objects within her house. My Grandmother’s table. It is the exact same table that has been in her life forever. This table is not just a table where you eat; it is a place that has shared many conversations, many late night talks and things that forever change who I am. My Grandma hasn’t had the easiest life, she was divorced and raised two children on her own. This table represents her life, it is made out of wood but each chip, mark and stain has a story, just like her life. Every Tuesday when I make the trip to apartment 303, I see this table and I remember every memory she has shared with me that has happened here. Yes, we do eat at this table but it’s the things that are shared between us at this table that makes these instances special. Even though everything is the same at these meals, the thoughts and stories are always different. When talking with my Grandma, I always forget that we live in two different time periods but with every story, she has some sort of advice or encouragement and one would never know that she was 85. When the narrator is speaking to the mother, she states, “ you felt as if she promised a great future, and was beginning, not ending, her summers and their happy toils” (38). My Grandma instills a sense of hope for me, that I am young and that I have so many decisions and choices to look forward to. I feel that Mrs. Todd’s mother does the same, that everyday should be a beginning for that next something.

“She loomed larger than ever in the little old-fashioned best room, with its few pieces of good furniture and national interest. The green paper curtains were stamped with conventional landscapes of foreign order” (39). This description of this special room is not special unless you can relate to the “green paper curtains”, which in my case, is very similar. My Grandma owns a very vintage recliner. It looks like it is 1,000 years old and no one in their right mind would have it in their house but she has had the recliner since I was born, it is something that means a lot to her. She sits everyday and drinks countless amounts of tea and reads. This is her life, this is what she enjoys. To some people this may seem boring but to her, this is what she aspires to do every day when she wakes up. I enjoy walking into her apartment and seeing her in that chair because it is familiar. It is something that I have seen many times before. It brings me back to simpler times. I have a picture in my mind of her sitting there at Christmas drinking tea and reading a Christmas Story or a picture in my scrapbook where I, once a child, am wrapped up in this chair sleeping. It is a small memory but to me it is a picture and an object that brings me back to reality, that even though we cannot stop time, we can always remember things and objects that brings us home again.

Photos. Everyone has photos that they love to share, my Grandma has the most awkward montages of photos on her walls. People might think the way she hangs these photos are crazy but to me, it symbolizes movement. You can walk through these awkwardly hung wall photos and realize what a great life my Grandmother has lived and still living. It starts from her traveling days, to her married life, to her children and then to us. “She had the gift which so many women lack, of being able to make themselves and their houses belong entirely to a guest’s pleasure, - that charming surrender for the moment of themselves and whatever belongs to them, so that they make a part of one’s own life that can never be forgotten” (46). The same intuitions that people have for Mrs. Todd’s mother are the same feelings people have towards my Grandmother. Jewett’s makes it seem like there is a gravitational pull towards Mrs. Todd’s mother, which is very similar to the way I feel about my Grandmother. There is an instinctive pull towards her once you are inside of her house, these objects in her house are old and outdated but every memory she shares with you about these objects pulls you into her life and her experiences. This space is a dull, old place for her to live but I don’t think she would be the courageous, inspiring woman she is without her apartment.

Places can be just places but I believe it is the objects and the experiences you share in these places that really make them significant. My Grandmothers apartment is old, it’s located in a place that no one wants to live but the joy my Grandmother has in her life, is something to aspire to. She carries these rigid, old objects that no one would understand the meaning of but once you are engaged into conversation with her, you can see into the past and you can see the beauty in each of these objects that have made her life what it is. “Conversation’s got to have some root in the past, or else you’ve got to explain every remark you make, an it wears a person out” (61). My Grandmother speaks from the past but encourages for the future. She has encouraged me to accept things that I cannot change and to make the most of every opportunity I have. To her, every inch of space can be transformed into a place but more importantly; it’s the people and the memories that you carry to every place that make it significant.

The place where my Grandmother lives is 600 feet, it is white, boring and has no meaning to me. But the stories, objects and the person moving around in this space makes this non-relevant space a place to me. This area makes me realize that time doesn’t stop but to make the most of the time that is left and to see beauty in every place you are given the opportunity to see. My Grandma helps me realize that its not the space you are in, its what you make of it that defines it as a place.

REFERENCES

Jewett, Sarah Orne. The Country of the Pointed Furs. New York: Penguin Group Inc, 2009.

A Comparitive Meditation on Nature as a Home of Growth by Rachel Marsh

The works of nature, mysterious, awe-inspiring, and humbling, can inspire humankind innumerous ways. The backyard from my childhood, from my outside space/place essay, and Mary Austin’s neighbor’s field, from The Land of Little Rain, inspired literary contemplation. There is a distinctly similar outlook toward these places, not spaces, between us, which produces the same result, or rather, reward. By examining, exploring, and reflecting on natural settings, a better understanding of one’s self, culmination of identity, and maturing of the mind and body can be achieved. By taking this approach to our respective places, our experiences and descriptions are similar. A comparative meditation can be made:

The grass feels cold and slippery underneath my little bare feet, refreshing in the stifling, humid air of the summertime. The tall pecan trees surrounding the area are like colossal giants to me, selflessly providing me shade to help beat the heat. The air smells of the sweet fragrance radiating from my mother’s garden of brightly colored flowers of blue, purple, and gold. The scenery of the back of my old, white house with the black shutters whizzes past my eyes as I swing on my old, slightly rusted orange and brown swing set, squeaking as I fly back and forth. My brothers appear out of the little white shed of a garage behind the house, riding their bikes down the rough cement driveway that interrupts the grass. I pick up my plastic bucket out of my green turtle-shaped sandbox, and get busy hunting up rolly pollies, slugs, caterpillars, ladybugs and inchworms to collect in it. Our two dogs that run about on long chains beneath the blossoming dogwood tree, for we do not have a fence, bark at a robin resting itself on the gray cement birdbath for a drink. I pet their soft tan and brown heads consolingly as they lick me with their slobbery tongues. This was a typical summer day spent in the backyard of my childhood home in the heart of downtown Ste. Genevieve, Missouri.

Austin uses similar methods to describe her neighbor’s field. The personification of the aspects of nature, plants, animals, the elements, etc., is a common theme. By giving human qualities, such as feelings, thoughts, movements, to these aspects, the qualities of one’s self can be reflected. Austin, though not in the same stage of life, appears to have a child-like fascination with nature. We both describe the tall trees as gigantic figures, for example. They are when compared to us. I describe them as selfless, giving them a humanistic identity. Austin writes, “it would seem [the pines’] secret purpose to regain their old footing . . . one of these has tiptoed above the gully of the creek,” describing the trees as plotting interlopers (51). Austin does more observation in her descriptions instead of interaction, however. She described the living things as an observer from a distance, watching through her window, for example. Conversely, I was out in my backyard, not just observing, but also collecting the bugs, petting the dogs, feeling the grass against my bare feet. Austin reflects a more environmentalist or naturalist perspective in not interfering with the habitat and lives of the living things.

My backyard was not a space, but a place to me. It brings back fond memories of my childhood spent playing in it, and the happiness I felt at the time. I absolutely loved that backyard, how it felt like my own little world, my Wonderland. Because I have such a strong emotional attachment to it, I consider it a place. It was not a public space, but privately owned by my family. It was a place not used for productivity or business-purposes, but one used for leisure, fun, and play. Primarily my family, and occasionally family friends used it. When the weather was satisfactory, I would play in the backyard almost every day. I became familiar with every inch of the place to the extent that I still remember it clearly today.

Austin addresses the concept of land ownership when discussing the field. She discussed the succession of people who “took possession of the field,” the land being bought and sold as a commodity (Austin 50). She refutes this notion of ownership, in that the plants and animals that inhabit the land will do so, no matter who owns it. I described my family as owning the land, however. This concept comes from not just living on the land, but also having a piece of paper to reinforce it, a notion which Austin would disprove of. The commonality, however, is both of our strong familiarities with the outside places. “Under my window a colony of cleome made a soft web of bloom that drew me every morning for a long still time,” Austin states (53). The instinct of routine creates a sense of understanding and connection with the places. Also, this is very much a solitary activity; both of us were alone with our thoughts and observations on nature. This promoted introspection, which leads to self-discovery. This encouraged maturity within me, and growth within Austin.

This place was used most often by me after my older brothers were old enough to go to school. After school they would sometimes use the driveway to shoot hoops in the basketball hoop, or ride their bikes around on it. My mother would use it to tend to her garden surrounding the back of the house, sometimes with me helping by digging holes in the black dirt and dropping in the tiny seeds. My father, being a workaholic, rarely used the backyard except on weekends when he would mow the grass. I, on the other hand, declared myself Queen of the Yard, and used it as my own personal playground. Playing whatever game of imagination I came up with that day, I would prance around the grass barefoot, against my mother’s protests. The only beings that used the place more than I were our two dogs, which lived outside next to the beautiful dogwood tree. To them, the backyard was their home.

Another comparative theme is gardening versus natural growth of plants. Austin describes gardening as humans trying to manipulate nature, but not always being successful at it. Yet, there is this human drive to create plant life that both Austin and my mother and I share. The fact that we are all women may be indicative of it being some form of feminine need to procreate. But whether this is true or not, Mother Nature is a role that cannot be played by any other actor. Austin writes, “we spent time fruitlessly pulling up roots to plant in the garden . . . all this while, when no coaxing or care prevailed upon any transplanted slip to grow, one was coming up silently outside the fence near the wicket” (52). The view of the landscape being an imaginative place is another commonality. There is the personification of the vegetation, that it can move about on its own and such, which is a reflection of this view, but also there is the imagination of stories and spiritual aspects in nature. Austin alludes to a Native American story about the pines being “bad Indians” and running away from the granite range, the Chief (51). This reflects the same sort of imagination that as a child I possessed.

I have a strong positive emotional attachment to the place. It is where some of my fondest memories from childhood took place. The security of its location, being hidden from plain view behind the large house and surrounded by large pecan trees, and the beautiful aspects of nature, such as the living insects, plants, and flowers, act to generate this positive attachment. The place is very much designed to be child friendly, with its swing set and sandbox and basketball hoop. Therefore, as a child it appealed to me, and as I used it more and more, I became attached and fell in love with it. Now, the backyard represents to me a time when I was happy and ran wild and free.

Austin also has a strong positive attachment to her neighbor’s field. She writes, “when I had no more than seen [the field] in the charm of its spring smiling, I knew I should have no peace until I had bought ground and built me a house beside it” (49). The sense of familiarity from living next to it helps develop this attachment. She also has the same sense of appreciation through observation for the aspects of nature as I do. We both have happy associations with the places, whether it be through fond memories of it or by describing the place itself as happy, which is a reflection of one’s self.

The difference between a location being described as a space versus being described as a place is relative and subjective. A space is typically defined as a public location designed for productivity. Its layout and atmosphere are not designed to encourage people to want to linger there very long. It is used for productivity, people move through it quickly. A place, on the other hand, is typically defined as a private location; it’s more personal. It’s designed to encourage people to spend a lot of time in. It is used for leisure, personal activities, or inhabiting. Those who use it feel an attachment to it, and are very familiar with it. The defining of a location as a space or a place is highly subjective. For example, if someone works in a location others define as a space, said person may consider it a place instead. I consider my backyard as a place rather than a space because I used it as my personal private area, but someone who did not live there or use the backyard might think of it as a space. My front yard, on the other hand, I would consider a space because it faced a busy street and was a much more public area.

I would argue that Austin thinks of her neighbor’s field as a place, as well. We have a similar viewpoint, as they are places to us, but spaces to others. This stems from not just our appreciation, but also our use of the land. Other people may see the land in terms of its productivity and utility and use it as such, but we use it for leisure, enjoyment, and discovery instead. The Paiute Indians used the field as a campoodie, and the cattlemen used it as “a recruiting ground for [their] bellowing herds” (Austin 50). But, Austin uses it for observation and exploration of the natural world and its processes. “One day I discovered that I was looking into a rare fretwork of fawn and straw colored twigs from which both bloom and leaf had gone, and I could not say if it had been for a matter of weeks or days,” she relates (Austin 53). Austin, like myself, appreciates the place for its aesthetic quality, not for its utility. She has a positive attachment to it even though “the field is not greatly esteemed of the town, not being put to the plough nor affording firewood” (Austin 49).

As I think back upon this outside place and what it means to me, I realize why it is so special to me. It is a place that cannot be replaced by any other in my memory that can conjure up such a specific emotional response. I have lived in other houses with other backyards since then in which I also spent time, but to none of them do I have such a strong emotional attachment. Never in my life have I felt as profoundly free, carefree, uninhibited, joyful, curious, content, and natural as I did when I spent time in that backyard as a child. I had no restrictions or responsibilities, and was free to be myself. The space outside my place, the entire rest of the world, did not matter while I was happy and safe and free in my beautiful backyard of childhood enchantment.

Both Austin’s field and my backyard are transient places, they change over time, and what we depict is a memory. By the concept of ownership of the land, they are passed from one owner to the next. My family no longer owns the backyard, someone else that changed the landscape does. If I were to go back there today, it would not be a place to me. In the same vein, Austin’s neighbor aims to turn the field into lots for building development. She writes, “it occurs to me that though the field may serve a good turn in those days it will hardly be happier . . . no, certainly not happier” (Austin 55). This reflects her positive associations with it, and her change of feelings toward it. These places no longer can serve the purpose they encourage within us. In the natural outdoor settings there is a sense of freedom, which is key in enabling and promoting our exploration and self-discovery. One is free to be carefree, natural, and true to one’s self in these environments, which allows for growth and maturity. “It is not easy always to be attentive to the maturing of wild fruit . . . one can never fix the precise moment when the rosy tint the field has from the wild almond passes into the inspiring blue of lupines” (Austin 53). Like the plant life, one cannot determine the precise moment a child grows out of their innocence and naivety into self-awareness and wisdom. But, mature I did, like the bloom of the wild almond. Austin’s descriptions of the field as a place enabling vegetation and animals to mature and thrive are indicative of her own experience of growth within it. The land has affected her as well. Through her observations of the character and processes of the wildlife, she has made discoveries about herself. Nature can teach us many things about life and, through our reflections, about ourselves.

Work Cited: Austin, Mary. The Land of Little Rain. The Modern Library: New York, 2003.

Final Paper

FINAL PAPER

The desert is described in Mary Austin’s ‘Land of Little Rain’ and Frank Norris’ ‘McTeague’ yet the two authors view the barren land very differently. While there really is no argument contrary to the fact that the desert is an extremely harsh and difficult place to survive, Norris only describes the desert as unhospitable and hell-like while Austin goes deeper into the various layers of the desert and describes that there is much more to the land than meets the eye. Norris tells the reader merely about McTeague’s journey through the desert, one that begins and ends with death always looming over McTeague, which seems appropriate enough considering he is traveling through Death Valley. But Austin recognizes how multi-faceted the desert is and that while McTeague may not have had what it takes to survive, many animals and some humans have found a way to make the desert their homes. So what allows the people and animals in Austin’s novel survive and thrive in the desert while Norris’ McTeague perishes? McTeague couldn’t let go of his materialistic ways and become one with the land around him. He could not and would not adapt in a region where you have no choice.

Norris describes the desert in extremely lonely and harsh terms. He says that, “the silence vast, illimitable, enfolded him like an immeasurable tide. From all that gigantic landscape, that colossal reach of baking sand, there arose not a single sound” (Norris 319). This silence is probably due to the fact that the animals have more common sense than McTeague and are hidden during the hottest part of the day in the desert. Norris goes on to say, “Not a twig rattled, not an insect hummed, not a bird or beast invaded that huge solitude with call or cry. Everything as far as the eye could reach, to north, to south, to east, and west, lay inert, absolutely quiet and moveless under the remorseless scourge of the noon sun” (Norris 219). McTeague was driven to the desert by his own selfish reasons, he committed a cold-blooded murder and was terrified of facing the consequences and wanted to keep the money all for himself. Norris then tells of McTeague being driven by some mysterious sixth sense described as “instinct”. In his journey through the desert, McTeague believes there is some unknown force driving him forward. Norris describes it as “warning [McTeague] again, that strange sixth sense, that obscure brute instinct. It was aroused again and clamoring to be obeyed” (Norris 312). I find myself having to disagree with Norris. I doubt this is “instinct”, I would argue more that it is pure guilt and greed that is driving McTeague forward. The desert is a region described by both Norris and Austin as being extremely difficult to survive in yet McTeague is more concerned about materialism then his own survival. He does not once think rationally in his journey through his Death Valley, nor does he look at the animals around him for guidance. Instead of conserving water, he is using it to keep is pet bird alive. And even more impractical then that is he is carrying $5000 worth of money with him and a heavy gilded birdcage. Surviving in the desert is difficult enough carrying the weight of ones body, let alone a gold-plated bird cage and pounds of money. This just proves that McTeague was not cut out for life in the desert. He could not let go of his materialism and instead chose to perish rather than part with his greedy ways and adapt to the land around him. Even at the very end of the novel, after McTeague and Marcus are reunited, the main focus is still monetary. The water is spilled, they know they are doomed yet McTeague cannot and will not part with the $5000. Norris described that, “in an instant the eyes of the two doomed men had met as the same thought simultaneously rose in their mind. The canvas sack with its five thousand dollars was still tied to the horn of the saddle” (Norris 335). He should be conserving his energy. He should be making peace with himself and a higher power knowing that death is imminent. He should be thinking of any other possible chances of survival. But instead he is more concerned about taking that money with him to the grave.

So what makes some thrive in the desert while others die under the scorching sun? I believe that one must make a conscious decision to leave behind all materialistic aspects because that will only drag them down in the unforgiving, barren, land. It’s not necessarily fair for Norris to only give one view of the desert when clearly there are plenty of animals and people who can survive in the desert. I think that McTeague is a poor representation of what life in the desert can really be. For example, Austin writes about a character named the Pocket Hunter who survives completely fine in the desert. The difference between McTeague and the Pocket Hunter is that the Pocket Hunter is willing to give up all items that are not conducive to his survival. He only brings along the bare essentials; no gilded bird cage and pet bird or $5000 cash like McTeague. Austin says that, “he traveled far and took a long time to it, but the simplicity of his kitchen arrangements was elemental” (Austin 26). The Pocket Hunter had no more advantages than McTeague. Austin describes him in similar terms as McTeague in so much that they both were born desert people. The Pocket Hunter is different than McTeague because he chooses to fully immerse himself in the desert and become one with the land, which is necessary for survival. Austin also writes that he even thinks of the desert and its inhabitants as his family saying, “I suppose he never knew how much he depended for the necessary sense of home and companionship on the beasts and trees…” (Austin 29).
Austin believes that the best way to survive in the desert is to take note and follow by example of the animals that live there. If one looks closely, which McTeague never did, there are many creatures who sustain life completely fine in the desert and you can use them to your advantage as the. These animals can show you where water is, help you find food, or literally shelter you from a storm much like the Pocket Hunter. When the Pocket Hunter found himself in a snowstorm in Waban and kept warm through the night by sleeping with a pack of wild sheep. Austin writes that, “ it may have been the creature instinct… that lead him to the cedar shelter… and heard the heaving breathing of the flock” (30). He ultimately survived the storm by thinking like an animal. Although it is clear from both Norris and Austin that the desert has extreme weather conditions in which it is hard to survive, Austin makes a point of shedding light on the fact that survival is possible as long as you have the proper mindset.

Austin points out that animals can teach you much more than finding shelter from a storm. They can help you find water trails. Austin says that, “man-height is the least fortunate of all heights from which to study trails” (11). It is better to be low to the ground like a coyote or mouse, or high in the hair like a bird. This is a perfect example of how a man in the desert can survive by observing the animals around them. In a land where water is extremely scarce and hard to find, man must watch the animal around them to be able to locate it. Austin says that a coyote is “your true water-witch, one who snuffs and paws, snuffs and paws again at the smallest spot of moisture-scented earth until he has freed the blind water from the soil” (12). Maybe if McTeauge had taken the time to observe the animals around him he would have been able to make his way through Death Valley. Apparently his “brute instinct” wasn’t enough, he needed the intelligence of the land that only desert animals have. Austin addresses the intelligence of a particularly cunning desert creature – the coyote. She compares the coyotes intelligence to that of a very smart humans saying, “I have trailed a coyote often… some slant-winged scavenger hanging in the air signaled the prospect of dinner, and found his track such as a man, a very intelligent man accustomed to a hill country…” (Austin13). In regards to animals and humans, Austin thinks that we do not give enough credit to the intelligence that animals possess. She says that, “ we have fallen on a very careless usage, speaking of wild creatures as if they were bound by some such limitation as hampers clockwork. When we say of one another, they are night prowlers, it is perhaps true only as the things they feed upon are more easily come by in the dark, and they know well how to adjust themselves to conditions wherein food is more plentiful by day. And their accustomed performance is very much a matter of keen eye, keener scent, quick ear, and a better memory of sights and sounds than man dare boasts” (Austin 13). Austin also explains that animals are superior in the desert because they do not waste anything. Resources are extremely scarce in the desert and animals have learned to utilize every aspect of the land. Humans are very wasteful creatures by nature. For example, McTeague wasted precious water in the desert keeping his pet bird cold. Humans also leave behind their mark on the land and tarnish the desert. Austin says in regards to humans that, “there is no scavenger that eats tin cans, and no wild thing leaves a like disfigurement on the forest floor” (Austin 24). Animals on the other hand have adapted to living in a land where there isn’t much to their disposal. Animals are superior at surviving in the desert because they work together and depend on one another. Austin writes, “probably we never fully credit the interdependence of wild creatures, and their cognizance of the affairs of their own kind” (Austin 22). The animals are willing to scavenge to stay alive and use eachothers kills for their next meals. One animal’s leftovers is another animal’s dinner. Austin writes of their interdependence, “the hawk follows the badger, the coyote the carrion crow, and from their aerial stations the buzzards watch each other” (Austin 14).
As I stated earlier, there is no argument to the contrary that the desert is a very unforgiving and difficult place to live. I think that Austin gives a more positive and fair account of the desert. She gives it more credit than Norris does. Norris describes the desert as a literal hell on earth in which no living creature, animal or man, has a chance of survival. But, Austin explains that those animals and humans that are willing to adapt and work with the land, rather than against it, have a chance to not only survive, but also make the desert their home. Both authors give accounts of human’s experiences in the desert. McTeague failed to survive because he could not cut ties with his materialistic ways and adapt to the land around him. Instead of conserving water and energy, he wasted it on materialism. In contrast, Austin describes why the Pocket Hunter thrived in the same land in which McTeague perished. The Pocket Hunter gave up all material items in his life and only survived in the desert off the bare essentials. He also used the land to his benefit, followed his instincts, and learned invaluable lessons from the animals that live in the desert, like where to find water and shelter. While I respect the two different views of the authors, I believe that Austin gave a more unbiased, fair account of the desert really has to offer. Under the sandy, scorching, barren exterior are very intelligent and resourceful plants, animals and even humans.

A Baseball Field and a River... Those can't be Similar

Patrick Wallace

Feelings, they are the darnedest thing. The instant sight or possibility of emotion leaves girls fluttering and guys left feeling awkward and confused with the, “Wanna get away” advertisement lingering in their thoughts. Feelings and emotions are individual to every human being—sequential to events in a certain person’s life—yet nevertheless people research and attempt to break down our individual thoughts.

The literary world chooses to do the same in looking at our feelings and emotions towards certain places as opposed to others. Phil Hubbard suggests places provide a sense of belonging citing humanistic perspectives that propose a relationship between the specific places and cultural identities of those inhabiting them (43). On the other hand, in looking at space, “Materialist perspectives propose that cultural battles create explicit inequalities in the way that space is occupied and used by members of different groups” (43). Looking at Mary Austin’s The Land of Little Rain and specifically at the section “My Neighbor’s Field,” Native Americans can relate to that concept in how they view the land nostalgically as beauty and a home—whereas the landowners simply viewed the land for profit and worth. More modern than that, my feelings toward a baseball field will differ from someone with little interest in baseball, and someone’s love for nature will oppose my lackluster attitude towards the beauty of nature. However, aside from the clear idealization that one person’s value of a landscape or a field can differ, how can an individuals feelings be given a definition? Yet, writers opt to do just that in defining what a place or space “should be.” Citing Tuan (1977) and then following to cite Taylor (1999) in his Space/Place essay, Hubbard states: “Place is often equated with security and enclosure, whereas space is associated with freedom and mobility. Taken to its logical conclusion, it seems one can have on, but not both: space are not places, but neither can places be spaces” (43). By definition I understand one cannot claim their place, for instance my place a baseball field, to also be a space. However, how can someone decide if I feel a certain way about a place than it must be a “place” or a “space?” When I look at myself standing on a baseball field, I most certainly feel security, confidence, a nostalgic sense, however I also feel a sense of freedom. Not to mention, one must account for feelings to change—and at that point—a place could certainly turn into just a space. My feelings for a baseball field may change if I had to work on a baseball field, similarly Mark Twain’s feelings about the Mississippi River did in fact change while working as a steamboat pilot as written in his novel Life on the Mississippi.

Samuel Clemens, more famously known as the American author Mark Twain, and I have a few things in common and obviously a few differences. We each grew up in Missouri, although nearly 150 years apart. We each love writing, granted I would have to say Mr. Twain has me beat in that one as well. Besides age and success, Twain enjoyed nature and had a desire to work on the Mississippi River as a steamboat pilot. I—while having hardly any clue about the actual job description of a steamboat pilot and very little interest in nature or rivers—desire to work in baseball (different from when I once had dreams of playing baseball through college). Once again, dreams and feelings can change over time. Aside from baseball, my only real interest in nature had to do with the unpredictable weather in the Midwest and how soon winter could end so spring, summer and fall could bring baseball season.

Summer, Fall. Winter and Spring. Heat and humidity. Wind and rain. Slippery roads and dry colds. Showers and flowers. 30 degrees one day and 70 the next. Every region, in a calendar sense, has all 4 seasons—perhaps the Midwest and Missouri more prominently than others like Florida that never has much of a winter—but never the less we have seasons, not 12 months with days and hours. Months are measurements for homework and assignments, seasons are experiences to live, love, hate, and restart. How one starts to describe a natural year in the Midwest could tell their entire life story. Do they start with the awful humidity of summer months, or the blistering dry chills of a January winter? Which season is their natural starting point? But, how one chooses to experience a season may determine if something as simple as a baseball field or the Mississippi River is a place or a space in that individuals mind—not how Tuan defines the terms.

Born and raised in the Midwest, I always begin with the heat and humidity, the dirt and grass, the summer. I have this feeling—there’s that word again—that life’s a journey, and the best two word combination to describe such journey: love/hate. The summer months are very love/hate. Some days we love, some days we hate. Some days we wish we could just hit the restart button. But some days, some days we just live. We figure, “Well, I woke up still breathing, I guess I’ll make the most of it.” When we don’t know why exactly, but we just go through life’s motions and see what happens, and those are the days. The days we feel like we are drifting through air.

On a baseball field in the summer, that’s a season for living. The days I drift through air not worried about a purpose. When the wind softly blows and feels like heaven, the sun reflecting off the bright green grass and the dirt feels soft beneath my feet. It’s a feeling without words, a scenery that can’t help but mesmerize, a place without worry. Time stands still as I drift through the motions of life.

Those who choose to attempt at defining our emotions and feelings as one or the other, mention a person’s “place” as something of the past in many ways, something with tradition. It should give that person a nostalgic sense of emotion and warm feelings. Essentially, places invoke emotion, as opposed to a “space” which inspires freedom and openness. If that’s how people want to define place and space, a baseball field for most people would be a space, and me the same as I do see it as a place of freedom and openness from life’s stressful reality. There’s no emotional attachment, one baseball field is the same as any other, grass surrounding a pile of dirt, white chalk and people (players), half of which are more into themselves than beauty pageant wannabes. While it may not matter which field, major leagues or a little league field, and I may not have an emotional attachment, when I’m on that diamond shaped field, it is my one and only place.

By no means does a baseball field display a sense of aesthetic feeling. Rarely is a person going to say, “Wow, that ball field looks so majestic right now.” It’s not about the appearance or emotional attraction though as Hubbard, Tuan and Taylor choose to exert limits on what a place can illustrate.

There are several aspects involved in a baseball field: Are we talking about the field or the game on the field? Are we talking about an empty field with silence and no one else around, or during a game with the constant buzz of fans surrounding the field? It’s a trick question. It’s everything involved, the sound of the fans and coaches yelling about a bad play, and the silence of walking out on the field after everyone has left. The silence of walking through a park just staring and imagining the game that took place hours or days prior. Envisioning the plays, where the players are standing, the inning, the situation, the score. The field itself, it’s imagined, envisioned in the mind.

Ultimately the baseball field is always silent, and that’s what makes it more than a field or a space in my mind. When I’m on the field, makes no difference if I’m playing, the field is silent. When I’m in my place, I remain focused but calm and crowd noise can’t disturb that. I’m there with the mentality, “I woke up, I guess I’ll make the most of it.” It’s a mental game, using an equal combination of brain and brawn. It’s a place for people who may not be the strongest or have the most natural athletic ability, but may exuberate intelligence about the game of baseball to make up for their athletic disadvantage.

From personal to theoretical, a baseball field represents a time for living, drifting by without worries of a purpose and that is why I say summer first when listing the seasons. Summer brings life. Many may believe spring brings life when the sun begins to shine, chills turn to thrills, flowers begin to grow, and that yellow/brown rug in the yard that they call grass, actually looks green again. Not to mention, those damn insects and bees come back and become more and more apparent and aggravating. I feel spring however, is a time to restart. Restart the baseball season, for it was never truly dead (Offseason, hello?). In reality, the grass in your yard never disappeared the life cycle has just restarted following the cold winters. Now the insects and bees, they might disagree with the idea of “restarting” in the spring but I’ve never been much of a fan of their existence anyways. Seasons change, feelings change—things, simply change—nothings definite and thus one’s feelings for something as a space or place cannot be defined. While my personal feelings for a baseball field have not yet changed, perhaps they may if I at some point work on a baseball field and no longer see the excitement, joy and freedom that the surroundings of a baseball diamond offers. Mark Twain, nevertheless had his ambitions to become a steamboat pilot come true—and for him perhaps—his feelings of the Mississippi River as a “place” did in fact change.

In 1883 Mark Twain published a novel about his life along the Mississippi River and experiences as a steamboat pilot. Before his work on a steamboat, Twain writes how a packet would arrive upward from St. Louis via steamboat once every day. Upon the steamboat’s arrival a film of dark smoke appears above a remote point in the river, Twain states, “The scene changes! The town drunkard stirs, the clerks wake up, a furious clatter of drays follows, every house and store pours out a human contribution, and all in a twinkling the dead town is alive and moving. . . . the people fasten their eyes upon the coming boat as upon a wonder they are seeing for the first time” (21). Twain continues to say, 10 minutes after the steamboats departure to not come back until the next day, the town is dead again whereas before its arrival the town seems to have hope, “glorious with expectancy” (20).

Perhaps a stretch with my upcoming analogy, but the town’s expectancy of a package seems similar to a young boy’s ambitions for a dream job and their expectancy of what that job might bring. Before explaining how the town awaits the steamboat everyday, Twain explains how his comrades—in the village along the west bank of the Mississippi River around Hannibal, Missouri—and he had ambitions of becoming a steamboatman when they grew up. Not exactly the same ambitions of my generation, however he recalls their other transient ambitions that might better relate to our generation: “When a circus came and went, it left us all burning to become clowns; . . . now and then we had a hope that if we lived and were good, God would permit us to be pirates. These ambitions faded out, each in its turn; but the ambition to be a steamboatman always remained” (20). After growing up, Twain had to opportunity to work on the steamboat.

In comparing his chance to work on the steamboat with the town’s glorious expectancy of the steamboat everyday and then dead emotion following its departure, we must account for the possibility of feelings to change in an instant. Before the steamboat arrives, the town is full of optimism and hope perhaps going as far as saying the people pictured the town and steamboat as a place. After it left, what did the town truly have? Hopelessness and despair for they would have to wait another day until the steamboat would arrive again. Mark Twain views the Mississippi River as beautiful and majestic, his ambitions to work on a steamboat gave him hope, excitement, wonder of what that life could be like. Following his work on the river, he gains more knowledge and understanding about the river but the optimistic emotions and feelings about the beauty of the river are lost. The knowledge he gains makes him begin to view the river as work, or a job, and no longer enjoyable. "All the grace, the beauty, the poetry had gone out of the majestic river!" (54), and then continues a page later, "No the romance and the beauty were all gone from the river. All the value any feature of it had for me now was the amount of usefulness ..." (55) That last line specifically relates to my earlier concept about the Native American’s view of land compared to land owners, and my view of a baseball field in comparison to if I had to work around a baseball field my entire life.

In Twain’s mind, the river no longer had this majestic, beautiful feeling as land has for Native Americans or as a baseball field has for me. Instead, Twain viewed the river for its “usefulness” and, in my interpretation, what the river could help him do, help him earn economically similar to how land owners view land as property and area or space they can sell.

My sole purpose of the argument with Tuan—comparing a baseball field to a river that seems absolutely obscene—no matter the time, whether 1800’s or 2000’s, the dreams of becoming a steamboatman or a ballplayer, or the place (or space), a person’s feelings can change and no one person will ever be able to set a precise definition on when or why that may happen. Twain’s love for the river may have shifted slightly in priorities at times, my love for baseball may change at some point, but for now—the dirt may become harder to slide on and the aluminum bat may sting the hands a little more—but I still love the look of a baseball diamond surrounding me, a season, or a region like the Midwest can not take that feeling from me.

Austin, The Land of Little Rain, Day #2

--Consider "My Neighbor's Field" and the contrast between land ownership and the land itself.

--Compare Austin's descriptions of the mesa and the mountains to her descriptions of the desert. Aside from the obvious differences in the landscapes, what do her descriptions share and/or how are they different?

--Consider the depictions of the Native Americans here, Winnenap and Seyavi. How do they compare to the depictions of Native Americans in the romantic literature we read earlier in the term?