[issybird]

My favorite part of the book was the imagery and that carried me through the rest. I agree with everyone about finding Alexandra incredible, and I'll extend that to Marie, too. I think I read somewhere that Cather couldn't write men, but I found them more sympathetic in their flaws than the perfect women. I had a sneaking sympathy for the brothers; fancy ideas are all well and good, but theirs was the unremitting and back-breaking labor that brought them to fruition. Carl's saying that he was neither a big enough nore a small enough man to be kept by Alexandra was wonderful.

My biggest issue with the book was the structure. In the end, I felt that the story happened in those 15 years that Cather skipped over, that transformed the bleak and barren prairie dotted with soddies into the fecund landscape all around, with the concomittant triumphs and disasters that caused the characters to turn out as they did. Instead, Alexandra wonderful and never put a foot wrong, apparently (I'll get back to that), brothers horrible and avaricious, hey, presto prosperity! And lacking the plot she didn't pursue, Cather cobbled on the melodramatic story of Emil and Marie because she needed a device to wrap it up, including bringing Carl back, he who also experienced offscreen prosperity, by prospecting in his case.

I'll say that I didn't find Alexandra's vow to help Frank unrealistic. I think she rightfully felt some responsibility for the tragedy and could even believe that neither Emil nor Marie would care to see Frank destroyed as well. Unfortunately, it didn't have the impact it ought to have, since when did Alexandra ever do anything that wasn't noble?

I can't resist commenting on the huge irony in this tale of pioneers. I meant to cite a passage about the plow cleaving the land as a metaphor for transforming the prairie, and also reference some of the imagery about the cultivated fields that surrounded them, but I neglected to highlight them. As it turned out, those tough, ancient prairie grasses that caused such difficulties to the earliest settlers were vital, and those straight, straight furrows were a disaster in the offing. Without the grass to hold it down and curved lines to surve as a brake, all that fertile topsoil would blow away in another thirty years. The dust bowl, which has been called the worst man-made disaster in American history, was caused by such agronomic geniuses as Alexandra.