Hello, Arkansas!
By Kristen on May 16, 2008 in 50 States 50 Books
Photo by ninjapoodles
Time for another visit to the literary United States! This week’s stop: Arkansas! My last actual visit to Arkansas was a very long time ago so the images of this week’s writer are even more vivid in my memory than the real place: Maya Angelou.
The first installment of her on-going autobiography was set primarily in Stamps, Arkansas and showcases her poetic sensibilities best. When I taught A.P. Literature, I would begin each school year with a passage from I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. My hope was to convince any doubters of just how powerful language — especially the spoken word — can be.
Angelou spent part of her childhood in self-imposed silence after she was raped by her mother’s boyfriend. She told her uncle, who subsequently killed the man, and Angelou was convinced that her confession resulted in the man’s murder. So, not surprisingly, Caged Bird is a testament to the power of words.
Photo by millicent bystander
Here is one of my favorite passages:
Mrs. Bertha Flowers was the aristocrat of Black Stamps. She had the grace of control to appear warm in the coldest weather, and on the Arkansas summer days it seemed she had a private breeze which swirled around, cooling her. She was thin without the taut look of wiry people, and her printed voile dresses and flowered hats were as right for her as denim overalls for a farmer. She was our side’s answer to the richest white woman in town.
Her skin was a rich black that would have peeled like a plum if snagged, but then no one would have thought of getting close enough to Mrs. Flowers to ruffle her dress, let alone snag her skin. She didn’t encourage familiarity. She wore gloves too.
I don’t think I ever saw Mrs. Flowers laugh, but she smiled often. A slow widening of her thin black lips to show even, small white teeth, then the slow effortless closing. When she chose to smile on me, I always wanted to thank her. The action was so graceful and inclusively benign.She was one of the few gentlewomen I have ever known, and has remained throughout my life the measure of what a human being can be.
Photo by millicent bystander
Just one more favorite:
She carried a platter covered with a tea towel. Although she warned that she hadn’t tried her hand at baking sweets for some time, I was certain that like everything else about her the cookies would be perfect.
They were flat round wafers, slightly browned on the edges and butter-yellow in the center. With the cold lemonade they were sufficient for childhood’s lifelong diet. Remembering my manners, I took nice little ladylike bites off the edges. She said she had made them expressly for me and that she had a few in the kitchen that I could take home to my brother. So I jammed one whole cake in my mouth and the rough crumbs scratched the insides of my jaws, and if I hadn’t had to swallow, it would have been a dream come true.
As I ate she began the first of what we later called “my lessons in living.” She said that I must always be intolerant of ignorance but understanding of illiteracy. That some people, unable to go to school, were more educated and even more intelligent than college professors. She encouraged me to listen carefully to what country people called mother wit. That in those homely sayings was couched the collective wisdom of generations.
When I finished the cookies she brushed off the table and brought a thick, small book from the bookcase. I had read A Tale of Two Cities and found it up to my standards as a romantic novel. She opened the first page and I heard poetry for the first time in my life.
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. . . .” Her voice slid in and curved down through and over the words. She was nearly singing. I wanted to look at the pages. Were they the same that I had read? Or were there notes, music, lined on the pages, as in a hymn book? Her sounds began cascading gently. I knew from listening to a thousand preachers that she was nearing the end of her reading, and I hadn’t really heard, heard to understand, a single word.
Whew! Can that woman WRITE or what?! And if you’ve ever actually heard her spoken voice, you know it is a force to be reckoned with…
Curious about the other states we’ve covered?
Photo by marxchivistFirst, from Melanie Jones:
- Alabama: To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee (check out my To Kill A Mockingbird Sample Kit!)
- Michigan: The Virgin Suicides by Jeffery Eugenides
- Alaska: The Man Who Swam With Beavers by Nancy Lord
- Arizona: The Bean Trees by Barbara Kingsolver
- North Dakota: Peace Like a River by Leif Enger
- Vermont: The Secret History by Donna Tartt
- Hawaii: Heads by Harry by Lois-ann Yamanaka
- Georgia: Leaving Atlanta by Tayari Jones
And I went out on my own for…
- Florida: Their Eyes Were Watching God by Nora Zeale Hurston
- Minnesota: In the Lake of the Woods by Tim O’Brien
- Wisconsin: When Madeline Was Young by Jane Hamilton
- Louisiana: Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood by Rebecca Wells (Jones’ pick) and The Awakening by Kate Chopin (my pick)
- Colorado: Plainsong by Kent Haruf
- Maryland: Anything by Anne Tyler
- Georgia: Awakening by Kate Chopin
- Ohio: The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison
Wondering where your state is? Coming soon… In the meantime, weigh in on future picks!
Welcome back!
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