“Don’t you see, dear, how it was?”
In Sherwood Anderson’s work Winesburg, Ohio, there are moments ― truths, insights, “adventures” ― that seem to be fostered or encouraged by nature. The description of a natural outdoor setting, or some element of nature, is made to make a direct connection between it and the character’s mental condition whereby he or she gains a moment of clarity or understanding, and needs to express this understanding to someone. In this regard, we are reminded of the medieval dream vision, and when we consider the fact that the characters in Winesburg are often alone when they experience their moments of clarity, the connection becomes even stronger. Ray, for example, being very much affected by the beautiful country setting and then coming to know the truth and having to tell that truth straightaway to Hal. There is, moreover, the question of the significance of nature itself; are we to take nature as nature and nothing more, so that the rain which affected Alice was nothing more than rain and did not represent anything deeper? Could the work be suggesting that nature is God being revealed to us? Or should we follow Rigsbee who suggests that nature, as it appears in Winesburg, is representative of women, of feminine traits, of creativity? What we can say with certainty is that Anderson clearly uses aspects of nature ―an open field, the night sky, black clouds ― to elicit dramatic mental shifts in his characters.
Many of the characters in Winesburg, Ohio experience a moment when something like a revelation comes upon them, where some truth or understanding is revealed to them. After this truth or understanding comes a desire to communicate it to someone. At times, however, each character finds that he or she cannot express it, or that they no longer wish to express it. This finding of truth and the desire to communicate it is one of the linking threads that runs through Anderson’s work. It seems that everywhere everyone is trying to communicate something to someone but either failing or giving up. There are degrees to the desire to express this understanding or truth as well. Louise Bentley, for example, “tried to make her husband understand the vague and intangible hunger that had led to the writing of the note and that was still unsatisfied” (49). In Louise Bentley’s case, the desire to express “the vague and intangible hunger” seems rather tame compared to some of the other frenzied attempts at communicating that occur later in the work, such as the Reverend Curtis’s barging into George Willard’s office shaking a bloody hand exclaiming that “God has appeared to me in the person of Kate Swift[…]kneeling naked on a bed[…] She is an instrument of God, bearing the message of truth” (85). What catches my interest, moreover, are the circumstances under which this desire to communicate appears; What are the circumstances that lead to the revelation and the desire to communicate it? Are there common threads in these settings that lead these characters to a deeper level of understanding that they desire to express to someone?
One of these threads is that of nature, specifically the outdoors and the beauty, majesty, and mystery of it ― elements such as rain, sunsets, woods, and open fields. This thread is not in every story – that is, in every instance where a character was overcome with a need to express a truth or understanding to someone. In the two examples I have quoted in the previous paragraph, for example, it is absent. Louise Bentley does not seem to be moved or provoked in any way by any kind of a natural, outdoor setting. George, moreover, seems to be affected only by the naked body of Kate Smith praying. It appears, however, in other stories, and often enough to warrant further examination. In Alice Hindman’s case, for example, she finally realizes that Ned is never coming back and that she may never find happiness. This realization comes to her while she is in the woods at “a little sheltered place, from which she could see the town and a long stretch of the fields” (62). It is from this element of nature, the woods and the long stretch of fields, that Alice is prompted or allowed to see something more clearly. Alice does not feel the need to communicate this truth to anyone, and it points to the possibility that Anderson believes these moments of clarity are somehow prompted by nature or some aspect of it. A short time later, however, Alice seems to be prompted by the rain on her window to run outside naked: “As she stood on the little grass plot before the house and felt the cold rain on her body a mad desire to run naked through the streets took possession of her” (63). She also feels the need to embrace someone. Although she is not conveying some truth verbally, we nonetheless have something similar happening here; Alice wants to express something of herself and her needs to someone.
If we look at the story of Ray and Hal, we can see even more clearly the relationship between nature and the insights or truths elicited in the characters. Ray and Hal are working in the field: “[Ray] looked away across the fields. He was in a sad distracted mood and was affected by the beauty of the country. If you knew the Winesburg country in the fall and how the low hills are all splashed with yellows and reds you would understand his feeling” (113). It is within this beautiful scene of nature that Ray begins to think back on the afternoon that “affected his whole life” (113). “'Tricked by Gad, that’s what I was, tricked by life and made a fool of,’ he said in a low voice'” (113). Hal, of course, is referring to the incident where he got a girl in trouble and ended up marrying her and starting a family. Here the beautiful country elicits and/or deepens a particular mood in Ray and even Hal. Anderson does not describe a beautiful nature scene simply for the sake of describing it or for the sake of lending some extraneous color to the work. It is done quite explicitly to draw a connection between the natural setting and the thoughts of Ray and Hal: Ray “was affected by the beauty of the country.” Hal, as well, is affected, and the story goes on to relate that Hal too, “was in an earnest mood” (113). Oddly enough(the coincidence being comical), he states to Ray that he has gotten a girl in trouble and he asks Ray for his advice. Ray avoids answering him, but later on in the afternoon, “Every time he raised his eyes and saw the beauty of the country in the failing light he wanted to do something he had never done before, shout or scream or hit his wife with his fists or something equally unexpected and terrifying” (114).
The beauty of the natural surroundings is crucial in the revelation that is given to Ray: “The beauty of the country about Winesburg was too much for Ray on that fall evening. That is all there was to it. He could not stand it” (115). It is against this backdrop that Ray experiences a revelation of truth and begins running across the field to tell Hal. He begins yelling out loud the things he will say to Hal when he reaches him: “Why should I pay? Why should anyone pay? I don’t want Hal to become old and worn out. I’ll tell him” (115). And further on: “’They are the accidents of life, Hal,’ he cried. ‘They are not mine or yours. I had nothing to do with them’” (115). As he approaches Hal, however, he finds that he can not bring himself to tell Hal anything, because he “lost his nerve” (115). Later on, however, this explanation is clarified by Ray: “It’s just as well. Whatever I told him would have been a lie” (116). It is a rather revealing statement, since it hints at the possibility that nature has the ability to reveal great truths and inspire great confidence but, ultimately, even a “truth” inspired by nature may be found to be not so definite or stable. In this regard, we are reminded of Dr. Reefy and his “little pyramids of truth” that he erects and knocks down in order to build other truths (14).
In her essay “The Feminine in Winesburg, Ohio”, Sally Rigsbee has also noted the importance of nature in Winesburg. Rigsbee associates the beauty of nature with femininity, and argues that “In Winesburg, Ohio communication is blocked because of the devaluation of the feminine qualities of vulnerability and tenderness even though the artist’s creativity springs from deep feelings of vitality which Anderson associates with the feminine” (178). Further on in the essay, Rigsbee, commenting on the revelations of truth that are byproducts of the “adventures” that visit many of the inhabitants of Winesburg, states that “The language that describes these ‘adventures’ links the moments of feminine self-actualization to the rich beauty of nature and to the spiritual transformation associated with creative inspiration and mystical religion” (183). Rigsbee’s comments are compelling, but I am not so sure how important it is to dichotomize particular traits into either feminine or masculine. It seems to me that this kind of dichotomization can present difficulties when one looks at a character such as Wing Biddlebaum, who seems to exhibit “feminine” traits and yet is a man.(Does the trait now become masculine?) At any rate, the revealed truth, insight, or “adventure” seems to be fostered or encouraged by nature ― whether we equate nature with the feminine or not ― and it is this element of nature, be it a field, or a rain, or green trees, that is present throughout the work and so clearly serves as a unifying element.
Even Tom Foster, the boy who gets drunk one evening to try something new, is influenced by nature: “In the first place, the night was one to make a sensitive nature drunk. The trees along the residence streets of the town were all newly clothed in soft green leaves, in the gardens behind the houses men were puttering about in vegetable gardens…” (120). It is under these circumstances that Tom walks off alone and “got drunk sitting on a bank of new grass beside the road about a mile north of town. Before him was a white road and at his back an apple orchard in full bloom" (121). It is after he gets drunk that the impassioned Tom needs to speak with George Willard: “Don’t you see how it is?…It taught me something, that’s it, that’s what I wanted. Don’t you understand? I wanted to learn things, you see. That’s why I did it” (122). Again, as in the story of Ray and Hal, nature is not dropped in as mere decoration or fluff. This point is further driven home by how the scene is introduced: “the night was one to make a sensitive nature drunk. The trees along the residence streets of the town were all newly clothed in soft green leaves.” Rather than casually and incidentally commenting that it was nighttime and the trees were quite lovely, Anderson makes sure to make a direct connection with this beautiful natural scene and the boy’s wanting to get drunk.
As a final example of nature and the desire to communicate, I offer Elizabeth Willard’s story in “Death.” Speaking to Dr. Reefy, “she told of the drive alone on the spring afternoon. ‘It was cloudy and a storm threatened,’ she said. ‘Black clouds made the green of the trees and the grass stand out so that the colors hurt my eyes[…] Thoughts came and I wanted to get away from my thoughts[…] The black clouds settled down and it began to rain[…] I wanted to get out of town, out of my clothes, out of my marriage, out of my body, out of everything[…] Don’t you see, dear, how it was?” (126-127).
WORKS CITED
Anderson, Sherwood. Winesburg, Ohio: A Norton Critical Edition. Ed. Charles E. Modlin & Ray Lewis White. New
York: W.W. Norton & Company, 1996.
Many of the characters in Winesburg, Ohio experience a moment when something like a revelation comes upon them, where some truth or understanding is revealed to them. After this truth or understanding comes a desire to communicate it to someone. At times, however, each character finds that he or she cannot express it, or that they no longer wish to express it. This finding of truth and the desire to communicate it is one of the linking threads that runs through Anderson’s work. It seems that everywhere everyone is trying to communicate something to someone but either failing or giving up. There are degrees to the desire to express this understanding or truth as well. Louise Bentley, for example, “tried to make her husband understand the vague and intangible hunger that had led to the writing of the note and that was still unsatisfied” (49). In Louise Bentley’s case, the desire to express “the vague and intangible hunger” seems rather tame compared to some of the other frenzied attempts at communicating that occur later in the work, such as the Reverend Curtis’s barging into George Willard’s office shaking a bloody hand exclaiming that “God has appeared to me in the person of Kate Swift[…]kneeling naked on a bed[…] She is an instrument of God, bearing the message of truth” (85). What catches my interest, moreover, are the circumstances under which this desire to communicate appears; What are the circumstances that lead to the revelation and the desire to communicate it? Are there common threads in these settings that lead these characters to a deeper level of understanding that they desire to express to someone?
One of these threads is that of nature, specifically the outdoors and the beauty, majesty, and mystery of it ― elements such as rain, sunsets, woods, and open fields. This thread is not in every story – that is, in every instance where a character was overcome with a need to express a truth or understanding to someone. In the two examples I have quoted in the previous paragraph, for example, it is absent. Louise Bentley does not seem to be moved or provoked in any way by any kind of a natural, outdoor setting. George, moreover, seems to be affected only by the naked body of Kate Smith praying. It appears, however, in other stories, and often enough to warrant further examination. In Alice Hindman’s case, for example, she finally realizes that Ned is never coming back and that she may never find happiness. This realization comes to her while she is in the woods at “a little sheltered place, from which she could see the town and a long stretch of the fields” (62). It is from this element of nature, the woods and the long stretch of fields, that Alice is prompted or allowed to see something more clearly. Alice does not feel the need to communicate this truth to anyone, and it points to the possibility that Anderson believes these moments of clarity are somehow prompted by nature or some aspect of it. A short time later, however, Alice seems to be prompted by the rain on her window to run outside naked: “As she stood on the little grass plot before the house and felt the cold rain on her body a mad desire to run naked through the streets took possession of her” (63). She also feels the need to embrace someone. Although she is not conveying some truth verbally, we nonetheless have something similar happening here; Alice wants to express something of herself and her needs to someone.
If we look at the story of Ray and Hal, we can see even more clearly the relationship between nature and the insights or truths elicited in the characters. Ray and Hal are working in the field: “[Ray] looked away across the fields. He was in a sad distracted mood and was affected by the beauty of the country. If you knew the Winesburg country in the fall and how the low hills are all splashed with yellows and reds you would understand his feeling” (113). It is within this beautiful scene of nature that Ray begins to think back on the afternoon that “affected his whole life” (113). “'Tricked by Gad, that’s what I was, tricked by life and made a fool of,’ he said in a low voice'” (113). Hal, of course, is referring to the incident where he got a girl in trouble and ended up marrying her and starting a family. Here the beautiful country elicits and/or deepens a particular mood in Ray and even Hal. Anderson does not describe a beautiful nature scene simply for the sake of describing it or for the sake of lending some extraneous color to the work. It is done quite explicitly to draw a connection between the natural setting and the thoughts of Ray and Hal: Ray “was affected by the beauty of the country.” Hal, as well, is affected, and the story goes on to relate that Hal too, “was in an earnest mood” (113). Oddly enough(the coincidence being comical), he states to Ray that he has gotten a girl in trouble and he asks Ray for his advice. Ray avoids answering him, but later on in the afternoon, “Every time he raised his eyes and saw the beauty of the country in the failing light he wanted to do something he had never done before, shout or scream or hit his wife with his fists or something equally unexpected and terrifying” (114).
The beauty of the natural surroundings is crucial in the revelation that is given to Ray: “The beauty of the country about Winesburg was too much for Ray on that fall evening. That is all there was to it. He could not stand it” (115). It is against this backdrop that Ray experiences a revelation of truth and begins running across the field to tell Hal. He begins yelling out loud the things he will say to Hal when he reaches him: “Why should I pay? Why should anyone pay? I don’t want Hal to become old and worn out. I’ll tell him” (115). And further on: “’They are the accidents of life, Hal,’ he cried. ‘They are not mine or yours. I had nothing to do with them’” (115). As he approaches Hal, however, he finds that he can not bring himself to tell Hal anything, because he “lost his nerve” (115). Later on, however, this explanation is clarified by Ray: “It’s just as well. Whatever I told him would have been a lie” (116). It is a rather revealing statement, since it hints at the possibility that nature has the ability to reveal great truths and inspire great confidence but, ultimately, even a “truth” inspired by nature may be found to be not so definite or stable. In this regard, we are reminded of Dr. Reefy and his “little pyramids of truth” that he erects and knocks down in order to build other truths (14).
In her essay “The Feminine in Winesburg, Ohio”, Sally Rigsbee has also noted the importance of nature in Winesburg. Rigsbee associates the beauty of nature with femininity, and argues that “In Winesburg, Ohio communication is blocked because of the devaluation of the feminine qualities of vulnerability and tenderness even though the artist’s creativity springs from deep feelings of vitality which Anderson associates with the feminine” (178). Further on in the essay, Rigsbee, commenting on the revelations of truth that are byproducts of the “adventures” that visit many of the inhabitants of Winesburg, states that “The language that describes these ‘adventures’ links the moments of feminine self-actualization to the rich beauty of nature and to the spiritual transformation associated with creative inspiration and mystical religion” (183). Rigsbee’s comments are compelling, but I am not so sure how important it is to dichotomize particular traits into either feminine or masculine. It seems to me that this kind of dichotomization can present difficulties when one looks at a character such as Wing Biddlebaum, who seems to exhibit “feminine” traits and yet is a man.(Does the trait now become masculine?) At any rate, the revealed truth, insight, or “adventure” seems to be fostered or encouraged by nature ― whether we equate nature with the feminine or not ― and it is this element of nature, be it a field, or a rain, or green trees, that is present throughout the work and so clearly serves as a unifying element.
Even Tom Foster, the boy who gets drunk one evening to try something new, is influenced by nature: “In the first place, the night was one to make a sensitive nature drunk. The trees along the residence streets of the town were all newly clothed in soft green leaves, in the gardens behind the houses men were puttering about in vegetable gardens…” (120). It is under these circumstances that Tom walks off alone and “got drunk sitting on a bank of new grass beside the road about a mile north of town. Before him was a white road and at his back an apple orchard in full bloom" (121). It is after he gets drunk that the impassioned Tom needs to speak with George Willard: “Don’t you see how it is?…It taught me something, that’s it, that’s what I wanted. Don’t you understand? I wanted to learn things, you see. That’s why I did it” (122). Again, as in the story of Ray and Hal, nature is not dropped in as mere decoration or fluff. This point is further driven home by how the scene is introduced: “the night was one to make a sensitive nature drunk. The trees along the residence streets of the town were all newly clothed in soft green leaves.” Rather than casually and incidentally commenting that it was nighttime and the trees were quite lovely, Anderson makes sure to make a direct connection with this beautiful natural scene and the boy’s wanting to get drunk.
As a final example of nature and the desire to communicate, I offer Elizabeth Willard’s story in “Death.” Speaking to Dr. Reefy, “she told of the drive alone on the spring afternoon. ‘It was cloudy and a storm threatened,’ she said. ‘Black clouds made the green of the trees and the grass stand out so that the colors hurt my eyes[…] Thoughts came and I wanted to get away from my thoughts[…] The black clouds settled down and it began to rain[…] I wanted to get out of town, out of my clothes, out of my marriage, out of my body, out of everything[…] Don’t you see, dear, how it was?” (126-127).
WORKS CITED
Anderson, Sherwood. Winesburg, Ohio: A Norton Critical Edition. Ed. Charles E. Modlin & Ray Lewis White. New
York: W.W. Norton & Company, 1996.