Article #332-2 | Gutenberg Articles

Excerpt

Excerpt from The Burial of the Guns, by Thomas Nelson Page

“Yes, indeed,” and she left the room, smiling, and went up-stairs.

This was one of the occasions when her eyes looked well. There were
others that I remember, as sometimes when she was in church; sometimes
when she was playing with little children; and now and then when, as
on that evening, she was sitting still, gazing out of the window. But
usually her eyes were weak, and she wore the green shade, which gave her
face a peculiar pallor, making her look old, and giving her a pained,
invalid expression.

Her dress was one of her peculiarities. Perhaps it was because she made
her clothes herself, without being able to see very well. I suppose she
did not have much to dress on. I know she used to turn her dresses, and
change them around several times. When she had any money she used to
squander it, buying dresses for Scroggs’s girls or for some one else.
She was always scrupulously neat, being quite old-maidish. She said that
cleanliness was next to godliness in a man, and in a woman it was on a
par with it. I remember once seeing a picture of her as a young girl, as
young as Kitty, dressed in a soft white dress, with her hair down over
her ears, and some flowers in her dress--that is, it was said to be she;
but I did not believe it. To be sure, the flowers looked like it. She
always would stick flowers or leaves in her dress, which was thought
quite ridiculous. The idea of associating flowers with an old maid!
It was as hard as believing she ever was the young girl. It was not,
however, her dress, old and often queer and ill-made as it used to be,
that was the chief grievance against her. There was a much stronger
ground of complaint; she had NERVES! The word used to be strung out
in pronouncing it, with a curve of the lips, as “ner-erves”. I don’t
remember that she herself ever mentioned them; that was the exasperating
part of it. She would never say a word; she would just close her thin
lips tight, and wear a sort of ill look, as if she were in actual pain.
She used to go up-stairs, and shut the door and windows tight, and go to
bed, and have mustard-plasters on her temples and the back of her neck;
and when she came down, after a day or two, she would have bright red
spots burnt on her temples and neck, and would look ill. Of course it
was very hard not to be exasperated at this. Then she would creep about
as if merely stepping jarred her; would put on a heavy blue veil, and
wrap her head up in a shawl, and feel along by the chairs till she got
to a seat, and drop back in it, gasping. Why, I have even seen her sit
in the room, all swathed up, and with an old parasol over her head to
keep out the light, or some such nonsense, as we used to think. It was
too ridiculous to us, and we boys used to walk heavily and stumble over
chairs--“accidentally”, of course--just to make her jump. Sometimes she
would even start up and cry out. We had the incontestable proof that
it was all “put on”; for if you began to talk to her, and got her
interested, she would forget all about her ailments, and would run on
and talk and laugh for an hour, until she suddenly remembered, and sank
back again in her shawls and pains.

Explanation

**Detailed Explanation of the Excerpt from The Burial of the Guns by Thomas Nelson Page**

Context of the Work

Thomas Nelson Page (1853–1922) was a Southern American writer best known for his idealized depictions of the antebellum and post-Civil War South. His works often romanticized the "Old South," portraying a nostalgic, aristocratic society while sometimes reinforcing racial and gender stereotypes of the time. The Burial of the Guns (1894) is a collection of short stories that reflect on Southern life, memory, and the lingering effects of the Civil War.

This excerpt focuses on an unnamed elderly woman—likely an unmarried, impoverished Southern gentlewoman—who is viewed through the lens of a young male narrator (possibly a boy or a young man recalling his childhood). The passage is steeped in Southern Gothic and Realist elements, blending humor, pathos, and social critique. The woman’s eccentricities and suffering are observed with a mix of pity, irritation, and dark comedy, revealing both her resilience and the cruelty of those around her.

Themes in the Excerpt

The Decline of the Old South & Female Vulnerability
- The woman represents the fading Southern aristocracy—once refined, now reduced to poverty and social irrelevance. Her tattered dresses, self-made and repeatedly altered, symbolize economic decline.
- As an unmarried woman ("old maid"), she occupies a precarious social position. In 19th-century Southern society, a woman’s worth was often tied to marriage and domestic stability. Her singleness makes her an object of ridicule and suspicion.
- The narrator’s dismissal of her youth ("It was as hard as believing she ever was the young girl") underscores how society erases the humanity of aging, unmarried women.
Suffering and the Invisibility of Pain
- The woman’s "nerves" (a Victorian-era term for anxiety, depression, or chronic pain) are treated as a comical inconvenience rather than a genuine medical condition. The exaggerated pronunciation ("ner-erves") mocks her suffering.
- Her physical and emotional distress (mustard plasters, gasping, sensitivity to light) is met with skepticism and cruelty—the boys deliberately aggravate her, assuming she is faking. This reflects a broader social disregard for women’s pain, especially when it doesn’t conform to expected norms.
- The contradiction in her behavior (forgetting her pain when engaged in conversation) is used to invalidate her suffering, a common trope in how chronic illness (particularly in women) was dismissed as "hysteria."
Appearance vs. Reality
- The woman’s external oddities (green shade, flowers in her dress, heavy veils) make her a figure of ridicule, but they also hint at a former elegance (the picture of her as a young girl in white).
- Her cleanliness and neatness ("scrupulously neat, quite old-maidish") are both a point of pride and a defensive mechanism—she clings to respectability in a world that has discarded her.
- The flowers in her dress, deemed "ridiculous," may symbolize a lingering connection to beauty and femininity in a life otherwise stripped of dignity.
Generosity and Self-Sacrifice
- Despite her poverty, she spends her money on others (buying dresses for "Scroggs’s girls"), suggesting a moral nobility that contrasts with the narrator’s (and society’s) callousness.
- Her self-denial (turning and reusing dresses) highlights the economic struggles of Southern women after the Civil War, many of whom were left destitute.
The Cruelty of Youth and Social Judgment
- The boys’ deliberate tormenting of her (stumbling loudly to make her jump) reflects childish cruelty, but also a broader societal disdain for those who don’t conform.
- The narrator’s tone is ambivalent—he observes her with a mix of pity, amusement, and irritation, never fully humanizing her. This detached irony is characteristic of Page’s style, where social critique is embedded in seemingly light narration.

Literary Devices & Stylistic Choices

Irony & Understatement
- The narrator’s casual, almost amused tone ("It was too ridiculous to us") contrasts with the woman’s genuine suffering, creating dramatic irony—the reader sees her pain, while the narrator dismisses it.
- The matter-of-fact description of her self-care rituals (mustard plasters, veils) makes her suffering seem absurd rather than tragic, reinforcing the narrator’s (and society’s) lack of empathy.
Imagery & Symbolism
- The green shade she wears obscures her eyes, symbolizing how her true self is hidden—both from others and, perhaps, from herself.
- Flowers in her dress represent fading beauty and lost youth, but also her defiant hold on femininity despite societal scorn.
- The heavy blue veil and shawls suggest confinement and isolation, as if she is already half-buried in her own life.
Characterization Through Contrast
- The young, healthy narrator (and the boys) contrast with the frail, aging woman, emphasizing her marginalization.
- Her past self (the young girl in the portrait) vs. her present self highlights the ravages of time and circumstance.
Dialect & Diction
- The colloquial phrasing ("ner-erves," "put on," "squander") gives the narrative a conversational, Southern vernacular feel, reinforcing the oral storytelling tradition of the South.
- The repetition of "she used to" creates a rhythmic, almost elegiac quality, emphasizing the cyclical nature of her suffering.
Foreshadowing & Ambiguity
- The title of the collection (The Burial of the Guns) suggests loss, memory, and the aftermath of war. The woman, like the "buried guns," is a relic of a lost era, both preserved and forgotten.
- The ambiguity of her "nerves"—are they real, psychological, or exaggerated?—leaves the reader questioning how much of her suffering is performative vs. genuine, a common tension in Southern Gothic literature.

Significance of the Passage

A Critique of Southern Gender Roles
- The woman’s unmarried status and economic dependence make her a victim of Southern patriarchy. Her suffering is both physical and social—she is punished for not fitting the ideal of Southern womanhood (marriage, motherhood, beauty).
- Her generosity despite poverty challenges the selfishness of the narrator’s community, but her kindness is ignored in favor of mocking her eccentricities.
The Human Cost of War & Economic Collapse
- While the Civil War is not directly mentioned, the woman’s poverty and decline reflect the broader devastation of the South after the war. Many women, especially unmarried ones, were left without financial support.
- Her reused dresses and self-made clothes symbolize the scarcity and resilience of post-war Southern life.
The Unreliable Narrator & Moral Ambiguity
- The narrator’s youthful perspective is limited and unsympathetic, forcing the reader to question his reliability. Is she truly as ridiculous as he claims, or is he blind to her humanity?
- This narrative distance allows Page to critique Southern society without overt moralizing—the reader must infer the woman’s dignity despite the narrator’s dismissive tone.
The Grotesque in Southern Literature
- The woman’s exaggerated ailments and odd appearance place her in the tradition of the Southern grotesque—characters who are both pitiable and absurd, reflecting the decay of old social orders.
- Like Faulkner’s Miss Emily (A Rose for Emily) or McCullers’ Miss Amelia (The Ballad of the Sad Café), she is a tragic figure trapped in a dying world, viewed with a mix of fascination and revulsion.

Conclusion: The Woman as a Symbol of Erased History

This excerpt is not just a character sketch—it is a microcosm of the post-Civil War South, where tradition, poverty, and gender roles collide. The woman’s invisible pain, ridiculed eccentricities, and quiet generosity make her a ghost of the Old South, neither fully mourned nor remembered.

Page’s seemingly light, anecdotal style belies a deeper critique of how society dismisses the suffering of those it no longer values. The reader is left to reconstruct her dignity from the fragments of a narrative that refuses to grant it to her outright—a powerful commentary on memory, empathy, and the stories we choose to tell.

Would you like a deeper analysis of any specific aspect, such as the Southern Gothic elements or the narrator’s reliability?

Questions

Question 1

The narrator’s description of the woman’s eyes—"sometimes when she was in church; sometimes when she was playing with little children; and now and then when... she was sitting still, gazing out of the window"—primarily serves to:

A. Establish her as a figure of inconsistent beauty, reinforcing the narrator’s perception of her as unpredictable and thus untrustworthy.
B. Highlight her spiritual devotion, suggesting that her moments of clarity are tied to religious or maternal instincts.
C. Create a fleeting, almost elegy-like contrast between her rare moments of vitality and the pervasive invalidism that defines her daily existence.
D. Undermine her credibility by implying that her "good" moments are performative, aligned with socially approved behaviors like piety and nurturing.
E. Foreshadow her eventual redemption, as these glimpses of serenity hint at an inner peace she will ultimately achieve.

Question 2

The repeated emphasis on the woman’s self-made, altered dresses—"she used to turn her dresses, and change them around several times"—is most effectively interpreted as:

A. A critique of her vanity, exposing how her obsession with appearance contradicts her claimed invalidism.
B. A metaphor for the cyclical, futile nature of Southern nostalgia, where the past is endlessly repurposed but never restored.
C. An ambiguous symbol of both resilience and degradation, reflecting her struggle to maintain dignity amid economic and social erosion.
D. A comic device, underscoring the absurdity of her attempts to conform to feminine ideals despite her age and poverty.
E. Evidence of her practical ingenuity, positioning her as a silent rebel against the expectations of Southern womanhood.

Question 3

The boys’ deliberate actions—"walk heavily and stumble over chairs—‘accidentally’, of course—just to make her jump"—are most thematically significant because they:

A. Illustrate the universal cruelty of childhood, a timeless behavior unrelated to the woman’s specific social context.
B. Serve as a darkly comic interruption, undercutting the passage’s otherwise melancholic tone with juvenile antics.
C. Demonstrate the narrator’s unreliable perspective, as his amusement reveals his complicity in her suffering.
D. Embodies the broader societal dismissal of female pain, where her vulnerability is treated as a target for derision rather than empathy.
E. Highlight the generational divide, with the boys’ energy contrasting the woman’s frailty to emphasize the passage of time.

Question 4

The woman’s habit of inserting flowers into her dress, deemed "ridiculous" by the narrator, is most plausibly a literary device intended to:

A. Reinforce her childlike naivety, aligning her with the "little children" she plays with in her rare lucid moments.
B. Signal her defiance of gender norms, as she rejects the expectation that old maids should be asexual and unadorned.
C. Serve as a bathetic detail, undercutting any pathos her suffering might evoke by associating her with frivolous femininity.
D. Create a poignant irony, where her insistence on beauty becomes a silent protest against the erasure of her youth and dignity.
E. Foreshadow her eventual descent into madness, as the flowers symbolize a detachment from reality.

Question 5

The passage’s closing observation—that the woman "would forget all about her ailments" when engaged in conversation—is structurally critical because it:

A. Confirms the narrator’s initial assessment that her illnesses are feigned, resolving the ambiguity around her suffering.
B. Introduces a tragic paradox: her moments of relief are contingent on distraction, implying that her pain is only bearable when ignored by others.
C. Shifts the tone from ironic detachment to outright condemnation, as her ability to "forget" proves her hypocrisy.
D. Undermines the Southern Gothic elements of the passage, replacing grotesquery with a more mundane portrait of aging.
E. Suggests a supernatural dimension to her condition, as her ailments appear to be psychologically rather than physically rooted.

Solutions and Explanations

1) Correct answer: C

Why C is most correct: The passage juxtaposes the woman’s rare moments of vitality—when her eyes "look well"—with the dominant image of her as a pained, invalid figure. This contrast is elegiac rather than judgmental, evoking a fleeting beauty that is all the more poignant for its scarcity. The narrator does not linger on these moments but uses them to highlight the pervasive invalidism that defines her existence, creating a tone of transient grace amid decay. This aligns with Southern Gothic traditions, where beauty and suffering are intertwined.