 |
Teaching an Abridged Version of
The Song of the Lark
By Michelle Toby
Why Teach an Abridged Version? Willa Cather was the first to admit that her second novel, The Song of the Lark, was too
long. She wrote in her preface to the 1932 edition (the novel was first written in 1914-15) that "the chief fault of the book is that it describes a descending curve: the life of a successful artist in the
full tide of achievement is not so interesting as the life of a talented young girl 'fighting her way,' as we say. Success is never so interesting as struggle" (Preface, xxi). In suggesting that an
abridged version of the 417 page text is more suitable for use in the classroom, I have attempted to respect what Cather felt were the novel's strengths. The Song of the Lark
is a good addition to the high school curriculum precisely because it is essentially a coming of age novel. Concerned primarily with how the heroine creates herself as an artist, it is deeply rooted in questions of identity and the tangled web of accompanying themes: gender, class, race, nationality, and in Cather's case, regionalism.
The novel can be successfully taught in an abridged form which keeps central this primary story of "the talented young girl 'fighting her way'" and omits the lengthy final chapters which
describe her in the "full tide of her achievement." Cather goes on to write that her story "set out to tell of an artist's awakening and struggle: her floundering escape from a smug, domestic,
self-satisfied provincial world of utter ignorance. It should have been content to do that. I should have disregarded conventional design and stopped where my first conception stopped, telling the latter
part of the story by suggestion merely" (xxxii). Thea can be fruitfully compared to James Joyce's Stephen Dedalus, who struggles to escape the nets of home, fatherland and church. Never mind that in the
opening pages of Ulysses, we find Stephen mired in those very nets he longed to escape; Stephen's ultimate failure is as unimportant to the integrity of A Portrait of the Artist
as Thea's tedious success is to The Song of the Lark. What matters is their quests as artists. The Song of the Lark
remains an excellent choice in the classroom should you choose to approach the text, not from the perspective of identity politics or as a coming of age novel, but in terms of Cather's unique contribution to a body of writing about the Midwest. Some teachers have expressed interest in using sections of
The Song of the Lark to accompany an emphasis on other, more famous Cather novels, such as My Ántonia or O Pioneers!
I have attempted to make this summary and abridgment useful for them as well. Here again, it is the early sections of the text—those that take place in Colorado and Arizona— which are most relevant, rather than the descriptions of Thea's sophisticated lifestyle in Chicago or New York or her whirlwind tours of Europe. It goes without saying that teaching the novel in its entirety offers certain advantages. Nevertheless, I hope what follows will be useful to those teachers who want to teach it, or sections of it, but who struggle to find a place for it among competing core curriculum.
The novel is divided into six parts and an epilogue, with each part being comprised of individual chapters. The simplest abridged version would simply eliminate Parts III, V, and VI. This would leave a
version totaling about 265 pages as opposed to the original 400. Teaching selected "Parts" also allows you to provide clear instructions to students about which sections to read, as opposed to attempting
to assign various chapters within each Part. What follows, then, is a summary of the six parts, with explanations of their relevance to the novel as a whole. The titles of the six parts are Cather's own.
Part Summaries: A Brief Roadmap of the Novel Part I Friends of Childhood
The first part of the novel establishes Thea Kronborg's character, one of a huge "litter" of children in a family of Swedish immigrants living in Moonstone,
Colorado. It also highlights several important supporting cast members—the friends who believe in Thea and foster her artistic potential: Doctor Archie, Ray Kennedy, the German music teacher, Herr Wunsch, and
Spanish Johnny. These last two characters are failed artists whose talents have been wasted through their own dissipation and the tedium of small town life. They represent the mirror image of Thea's drive
toward fulfilling her potential and establish within her an obligation to succeed where they have failed. Thea's mother notes of Wunsch that "it's good for us he does drink. He'd never be in a little place
like this if he didn't have some weakness" (15). Indeed, this first section contains vivid descriptions of life in a small town in the Midwest, where the community is dominated by fierce allegiance to rigorous
standards of propriety and an awareness of its own isolation and provincialism. It will be interesting for students to note that the white settlers of this region felt themselves to be so foreign and transplanted.
For example, there is a wonderful description of the Kohlers, a German family who "tried to reproduce a bit of [their] own village in the Rhine Valley" through painstaking efforts at maintaining a German garden in
the harsh desert landscape. They live for their garden, including a knotty grapevine, "full of homesickness and sentiment, which the Germans have carried around the world with them" (21). In addition to the
descriptions of immigrant life, there are references to the Navajo and to the Mexican quarter, altogether providing a rich sense of the diversity of the Midwest. The section also provides excellent examples of
Cather's romantic prose as applied to descriptions of the natural landscape. The railroad is the town's only lifeline to the larger world, and as a powerful representation of monstrous but thrilling progress and
Westward expansion, it will claim the life of Thea's friend, Ray Kennedy. Ray had hopes of marrying Thea, and had taken out a life insurance policy for $600, thus enabling her to go to Chicago to study
music. Part I also describes a talent show at which Thea's gifts are unrecognized by the provincial audience of Moonstone. The townspeople are instead captivated by the insipid Lily Fisher, who looks like
the kinds of children whose portraits are used to advertise boxes of soap. This is an important detail, in that it once again highlights Thea's need to escape her limiting background and sets up an important
juxtaposition between true and commercial art. In contrast to Lily Fisher, who merely wants to please, Thea is fiercely committed to pursuing her dream of becoming an artist; if Thea is to succeed in making
something of herself, she will need to leave Moonstone. Part II The Song of the Lark In Part II, Thea travels to Chicago under the care of Doctor Archie. After some difficulty finding suitable
accommodations (here teachers might point out that young girls were not granted the kinds of freedoms they are today without seriously jeopardizing their reputations), she finds a room to rent and begins to seriously
pursue her study of music. In Chicago Thea discovers that her real gift is not the piano, but her voice. This theme of the female artist discovering the power of her own voice is, of course, the major theme
of the novel. This section contains descriptions of Chicago as a booming industrial town, in contrast to sleeply Moonstone. The import of this section is the need for Thea to become tough and single-minded in
her ambition, as represented by her purchase of a photograph of a bust of Julius Caesar, cold and uncompromising. Indeed, Thea's fascination with imperialist ideals is also evoked in Cather's own admiration for
the conquest of the American West, and Thea's travels East to become a world-class diva nicely parallel Westward expansionist movements. The text glowingly reports that the first message telegraphed across the
Missouri River is "Westward the course of Empire takes its way" (49). Cather is celebrated as a romantic writer in large part for her faith in the indomitable human spirit; Thea stands with such figures as
Alexandra Bergson and Ántonia as larger than life representations of the power of the will. Thea is told by one of her instructors that "every artist makes himself born," an adage which Cather herself was quite
fond of. Nevertheless, Thea soon becomes nervous and distracted in Chicago. Intensely aware of her humble background, she has a difficult time adjusting to city life, and grows increasingly restless
and miserable, vaguely conscious of some painful longing and unresigned despair. In the midst of this developing crisis, Thea's voice is discovered by her piano instructor. Harsanyi describes Thea's voice as
"a wild bird that had flown into his studio on Middleton Street from goodness knew how far! No one knew that it had come, or even that it existed; least of all the strange crude girl in whose throat it beat its
passionate wings" (171). In this section, Thea visits the Art Institute of Chicago and is moved by the painting, The Song of the Lark, by Jules Breton. She is also stirred by Dvorak's
Symphony from the New World, and she herself feels the amazement of a new soul in a new world. In an attempt to overcome her alienation, Thea journeys back home, only to find herself ever more out of place
in Moonstone. Thea is only comfortable the moonlit evening she spends singing in Mexican town, a scene representative of sexual awakening and her growing awareness of her own feminine power. This incident
shocks her narrow-minded brothers and sister who are unduly concerned with what the folks at church will think. Thea's disgust with her family's attempt to censure her fuels her determination. The section
concludes with her resolution that "she was going away to fight, and she was going away forever" (222). Part III Stupid Faces This rather short section is one that can be skipped in abridging the
novel. It describes Thea's disgust with the commercialization of the music profession in Chicago and continues to narrate her growing crisis and self-doubt. Her music teacher at this stage is Madison
Bowers. Contemptuous, avaricious, and deeply cynical, "he went to concerts chiefly to satisfy himself as to how badly things were done and how gullible the public was. He hated the whole race of artists"
(226). The hypocrisy of this lifestyle almost kills Thea's spirit. By the end of the section, she has developed a bad case of tonsillitis, symbolizing the corruption of her gift in this atmosphere.
There is, however, a wonderful description of the city as a cruel dominatrix:
The rich, noisy city, fat with food and drink, is a spent thing; its chief concern is its digestion and its little game of hide-and-seek with the undertaker. Money and office and success are the
consolations of impotence. Fortune turns kind to such solid people and lets them suck their bone in peace. She flicks her whip upon flesh that is more alive, upon that stream of hungry boys and girls who
tramp the streets of every city, recognizable by their pride and discontent, who are the Future, and who possess the treasure of creative power. (239)
If you do skip this section, it will be important to point out to students that in this section, Thea meets the rich and powerful, Fred Ottenburg, who introduces her to Chicago society. Fred is a "beer prince,"
son of a brewer in St. Louis, and manages the business in Chicago. He invites Thea to spend a summer at his family's ranch in Arizona, near a Navajo reservation, where she will explore Panther Canyon, a
fictionalized Mesa Verde. Part IV The Ancient People Unlike Part III, Part IV is one of the most crucial sections of the novel and contains some of Cather's most famous descriptions of the Southwest
landscape. Having left Chicago feeling an intense sense of personal failure, in this section Thea heals herself by connecting with the land that feeds her art. Surrounded by the ancient ruins of the
cliff-dwellers, especially the broken pottery of her ancient grandmothers, Thea feels that "the potsherds were like fetters that bound one to a long chain of human endeavor." While the first part of the novel
established Thea's sense of obligation toward her Moonstone friends, "the Cliff-Dwellers had lengthened her past. She had older and higher obligations" (276). Recovering her lost sense of power and control,
Thea realizes that "there was certainly no kindly Providence that directed one's life . . . She had better take it in her own hands" (276). The song of the lark is replaced by an image of the soar of the
eagle. A minor theme running through this part of the novel concerns Cather's rather awkward attempt to work a romantic subplot into the story. Fred Ottenburg proposes marriage, despite his having an
estranged wife living in Santa Barbara, California. The narrator explains that Fred was manipulated into marriage at the tender age of twenty by a flashy society girl. The marriage had quickly deteriorated
and Fred began to drink and to "openly rebel" until their mutual social circles allows for the couple to gracefully separate. Apparently, divorce is an unacceptable solution. Fred's unfortunate circumstances
allow Thea to seem to stand on moral principles in refusing him. It seems clear, however, that she is choosing her art over a conventional lifestyle, as she explains to him her joy in "waking up every morning with
the feeling that your life is your own" (284). Thea is determined to find a way to go to Germany to study opera. Part V Doctor Archie's Venture This section can also safely be excised while still
maintaining the integrity of the novel. It basically furthers the plot. Thea, discovering that Fred is married, resolves that she cannot borrow money from him without compromising herself. Instead, she
writes to her old friend Doctor Archie, who is just beginning to invest in silver mines. He finances her study in Germany, though none of the novel actually takes place abroad. Again, the theme of obligation
is emphasized, as Thea explains to Fred her need to "make good to [her] friends" back home in Moonstone. Part VI Kronborg This section seems to be what Cather referred to in her Preface
as the rather uninteresting depiction of Thea's success—"success is never so interesting as struggle" (xxxi). Interestingly, Diva Kronborg has lost her first name in the section heading—Cather simply calls this
part of the novel, "Kronborg." This is fitting, for the audience seems to lose a personal connection with Thea as well. Instead, we see her through the adoring eyes of Fred and Doctor Archie. Ten years
have passed and Archie has amassed a fortune from his silver mine investments. There are several rather irritating (and politically incorrect) references to his Japanese houseboys, whom Cather must have felt would
symbolize his wealth and prestige. Doctor Archie relates a disturbing incident in which Thea refused to cut short her tour to come home when her mother lay dying. Mrs. Kronborg, though very
proud of her daughter's success, has to be content to read about Thea in the German papers, and concludes rather sadly to Archie that "bringing up a family is not all it's cracked up to be" (353). For teachers who
also teach Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, this scene rather nicely mirrors Stephen's refusal to pray at his mother's deathbed, for fear of compromising his ideals. This last section, does however,
contain the famous passage in which Thea is described as a "tree bursting into bloom" (410). One might assign simply this one Chapter XI of Part VI. Epilogue The epilogue provides a nice sense of
closure to an abridged version of the novel, in which Parts III, V, and VI have been cut. It conveys Thea's success without the long and rather tedious descriptions of her as a world-class diva, and is told from
the perspective of Thea's eccentric aunt Tillie, whom students will remember from Part I. It also sardonically relates the fate of Lily Fisher, who has become a "dimpled matron" depicted at Moonstone's Methodist
ice-cream social, where she hears Tillie boasting about Thea's commanding $1,000 a performance. All quotations are from Signet Classics edition of The Song of the Lark.
Michelle Toby currently teaches at the University of California, Irvine. |
