Article #346-2 | Gutenberg Articles

Excerpt

Excerpt from The Troll Garden, and Selected Stories, by Willa Cather

On the Divide

Near Rattlesnake Creek, on the side of a little draw stood Canute's
shanty. North, east, south, stretched the level Nebraska plain of long
rust-red grass that undulated constantly in the wind. To the west the
ground was broken and rough, and a narrow strip of timber wound along
the turbid, muddy little stream that had scarcely ambition enough to
crawl over its black bottom. If it had not been for the few stunted
cottonwoods and elms that grew along its banks, Canute would have shot
himself years ago. The Norwegians are a timber-loving people, and if
there is even a turtle pond with a few plum bushes around it they seem
irresistibly drawn toward it.

As to the shanty itself, Canute had built it without aid of any kind,
for when he first squatted along the banks of Rattlesnake Creek there
was not a human being within twenty miles. It was built of logs split
in halves, the chinks stopped with mud and plaster. The roof was covered
with earth and was supported by one gigantic beam curved in the shape of
a round arch. It was almost impossible that any tree had ever grown in
that shape. The Norwegians used to say that Canute had taken the log
across his knee and bent it into the shape he wished. There were
two rooms, or rather there was one room with a partition made of ash
saplings interwoven and bound together like big straw basket work. In
one corner there was a cook stove, rusted and broken. In the other a
bed made of unplaned planks and poles. It was fully eight feet long, and
upon it was a heap of dark bed clothing. There was a chair and a bench
of colossal proportions. There was an ordinary kitchen cupboard with
a few cracked dirty dishes in it, and beside it on a tall box a tin
washbasin. Under the bed was a pile of pint flasks, some broken,
some whole, all empty. On the wood box lay a pair of shoes of almost
incredible dimensions. On the wall hung a saddle, a gun, and some ragged
clothing, conspicuous among which was a suit of dark cloth, apparently
new, with a paper collar carefully wrapped in a red silk handkerchief
and pinned to the sleeve. Over the door hung a wolf and a badger skin,
and on the door itself a brace of thirty or forty snake skins whose
noisy tails rattled ominously every time it opened. The strangest things
in the shanty were the wide windowsills. At first glance they looked as
though they had been ruthlessly hacked and mutilated with a hatchet, but
on closer inspection all the notches and holes in the wood took form and
shape. There seemed to be a series of pictures. They were, in a rough
way, artistic, but the figures were heavy and labored, as though they
had been cut very slowly and with very awkward instruments. There were
men plowing with little horned imps sitting on their shoulders and on
their horses' heads. There were men praying with a skull hanging over
their heads and little demons behind them mocking their attitudes. There
were men fighting with big serpents, and skeletons dancing together. All
about these pictures were blooming vines and foliage such as never grew
in this world, and coiled among the branches of the vines there was
always the scaly body of a serpent, and behind every flower there was
a serpent's head. It was a veritable Dance of Death by one who had felt
its sting. In the wood box lay some boards, and every inch of them
was cut up in the same manner. Sometimes the work was very rude and
careless, and looked as though the hand of the workman had trembled. It
would sometimes have been hard to distinguish the men from their evil
geniuses but for one fact, the men were always grave and were either
toiling or praying, while the devils were always smiling and dancing.
Several of these boards had been split for kindling and it was evident
that the artist did not value his work highly.

Explanation

**Analysis of On the Divide (Excerpt from The Troll Garden and Selected Stories by Willa Cather)**

This excerpt from Willa Cather’s On the Divide (1905) introduces the reader to Canute, a Norwegian immigrant living in isolation on the Nebraska prairie. The passage is rich in setting, symbolism, and psychological depth, painting a vivid portrait of a man shaped by hardship, cultural displacement, and an almost mythic struggle with his environment. Below is a detailed breakdown of the text’s themes, literary devices, and significance, with a focus on the excerpt itself.

1. Context & Background

Willa Cather (1873–1947) was a Pulitzer Prize-winning American writer known for her evocative depictions of frontier life, immigrant experiences, and the harsh beauty of the Great Plains.
The Troll Garden (1905) was her first short story collection, blending realism with gothic and mythic elements. On the Divide explores themes of isolation, cultural memory, and the psychological toll of the frontier.
The story reflects the Norwegian immigrant experience in the late 19th century, when many Scandinavians settled in the Midwest, facing extreme loneliness and the challenge of adapting to a treeless, windswept landscape.

2. The Setting: A Land of Contrasts

The opening paragraph establishes a stark, almost biblical contrast between the flat, monotonous plain and the broken, rugged west where Canute lives.

"Level Nebraska plain of long rust-red grass that undulated constantly in the wind"
- The endless, waving grass suggests both monotony and restless motion, mirroring Canute’s internal state—trapped in a cycle of labor and solitude.
- The rust-red color evokes decay, blood, and the passage of time, reinforcing the land’s harshness.
"To the west the ground was broken and rough… a narrow strip of timber wound along the turbid, muddy little stream"
- The west (traditionally a symbol of opportunity in American mythology) is here hostile and unpromising.
- The muddy, lazy stream ("scarcely ambition enough to crawl") personifies the land as weary and defeated, much like Canute himself.
- The timber is a lifeline—without it, Canute "would have shot himself years ago." This reveals his deep cultural longing for forests, a central trait of Norwegian identity.
"The Norwegians are a timber-loving people"
- This cultural observation highlights the psychological toll of displacement. For Canute, the absence of trees is not just an inconvenience but a spiritual void.

3. Canute’s Shanty: A Reflection of His Mind

The description of Canute’s home is highly symbolic, functioning almost like a psychological portrait of the man himself.

A. The Structure: Strength and Fragility

"Built of logs split in halves, the chinks stopped with mud and plaster"
- The shanty is rough, improvised, and fragile—like Canute’s grip on sanity.
- The mud and plaster suggest temporary fixes, a life held together by sheer will.
"The roof was covered with earth and was supported by one gigantic beam curved in the shape of a round arch"
- The earth-covered roof blends the home into the land, as if Canute is buried alive in his isolation.
- The impossibly curved beam is almost supernatural—Norwegians joke that Canute bent it himself, hinting at his Herculean endurance (or delusion).
- The arch shape may symbolize both shelter and entrapment, like a tomb or a womb.

B. The Interior: A Life of Hardship and Lost Hopes

"A cook stove, rusted and broken… a bed made of unplaned planks… a heap of dark bed clothing"
- The broken, rusted objects suggest decay and neglect, reinforcing Canute’s emotional and physical exhaustion.
- The oversized furniture (chair, bench, shoes) hints at Canute’s larger-than-life presence—a man who once had strength but is now diminished.
"Under the bed was a pile of pint flasks, some broken, some whole, all empty"
- The empty bottles symbolize failed escapes—Canute’s attempts to drown his sorrows in alcohol.
- Their hidden placement suggests shame or secrecy, a private battle with despair.
"A suit of dark cloth, apparently new, with a paper collar carefully wrapped in a red silk handkerchief"
- This is the most striking contrast in the shanty—a symbol of lost dignity.
- The new suit (perhaps for a wedding, funeral, or church) is untouched, suggesting a life that never happened—a dream of respectability or connection that never materialized.
- The red silk handkerchief (a vibrant, almost feminine detail) stands out in the grim surroundings, hinting at a buried romantic or artistic side.
"A wolf and a badger skin… a brace of thirty or forty snake skins"
- These animal skins represent Canute’s battles with nature—he has conquered predators, yet remains haunted by them.
- The rattlesnake skins (with their "noisy tails") add an ominous, almost supernatural element, as if the dead snakes still threaten him.

4. The Carvings: A Dance of Death

The windowsills and wood boards are covered in crude, nightmarish carvings—the most psychologically revealing element of the passage.

A. The Imagery: Demons, Serpents, and Skeletons

"Men plowing with little horned imps sitting on their shoulders… men praying with a skull hanging over their heads"
- These images evoke medieval Christian iconography (like The Dance of Death or The Temptation of St. Anthony), where demons torment the living.
- The imps on the plowmen’s shoulders suggest Canute’s belief in an ever-present evil, perhaps guilt, despair, or the weight of his isolation.
- The skull over the praying man reinforces the futility of faith in this godforsaken land.
"Men fighting with big serpents, and skeletons dancing together"
- The serpents (a biblical symbol of temptation and sin) may represent Canute’s internal struggles—alcoholism, loneliness, or past traumas.
- The dancing skeletons (a memento mori) suggest Canute’s obsession with death, as if he is already half in the grave.
"All about these pictures were blooming vines and foliage such as never grew in this world"
- The unearthly vines contrast with the barren Nebraska plain, revealing Canute’s longing for beauty in a place that offers none.
- The serpents hidden among the flowers imply that even beauty is corrupted—a reflection of his cycnical worldview.

B. The Artist’s Hand: Trembling Between Genius and Madness

"The work was very rude and careless, and looked as though the hand of the workman had trembled"
- The unsteady carvings suggest Canute’s deteriorating mental state—perhaps alcoholism, PTSD, or sheer exhaustion.
- The variation in quality (some careful, some hasty) mirrors mood swings—moments of clarity followed by despair.
"It would sometimes have been hard to distinguish the men from their evil geniuses"
- This blurring of man and demon implies that Canute no longer sees a distinction between himself and his tormentors.
- The only difference: the men are "grave and toiling or praying", while the devils are "smiling and dancing."
  - This suggests Canute identifies with suffering—he is the serious, burdened laborer, while joy belongs to the demons.
"Several of these boards had been split for kindling"
- The fact that Canute burns his own art is devastating.
- It shows self-destruction—he does not value his work, just as he may not value his own life.
- Alternatively, it could symbolize a desperate need for warmth (both physical and emotional), even if it means destroying his own creations.

5. Themes

Isolation and the Frontier Myth
- Canute is a failed pioneer—unlike the heroic settlers of American mythology, he is broken by the land.
- The absence of trees (a Norwegian cultural touchstone) makes his loneliness almost unbearable.
Cultural Displacement
- The Norwegian love of timber contrasts with the treeless plain, symbolizing the loss of homeland and identity.
- The carvings are a folk art tradition (like Norwegian rosemaling), but here they are twisted into nightmares, showing how cultural memory curdles in exile.
Madness and Artistic Expression
- Canute’s carvings are both art and symptom—a cry for help and a descent into delusion.
- The serpents and demons may represent his own mind turning against him.
The Futility of Faith and Labor
- The praying men mocked by demons suggest that religion offers no comfort in this godless land.
- The plowmen burdened by imps imply that hard work is its own kind of damnation.
The Duality of Man and Demon
- The blurring of men and their "evil geniuses" reflects Canute’s internal division—he is both victim and tormentor.

6. Literary Devices

Device	Example	Effect
Symbolism	The curved beam, empty bottles, new suit, serpent carvings	Each object represents deeper psychological or cultural struggles.
Personification	The stream has "scarcely ambition enough to crawl"	The land is as weary as Canute.
Foreshadowing	The gun, empty bottles, and carvings of death hint at Canute’s potential suicide.
Contrast	The beautiful but demon-infested vines vs. the barren plain	Highlights the disjunction between desire and reality.
Gothic Imagery	Skeletons dancing, demons mocking prayers, rattling snake skins	Creates an atmosphere of dread and supernatural menace.
Irony	The new suit in a ruined shanty; artistic carvings used for kindling	Underscores the tragedy of wasted potential.

7. Significance & Interpretation

A Portrait of Frontier Despair
- Unlike romanticized tales of westward expansion, Cather shows the psychological cost of settlement—loneliness, madness, and cultural erosion.
The Artist as Outcast
- Canute’s carvings make him both an artist and a madman, suggesting that creativity and suffering are intertwined in isolation.
A Norwegian Hamlet on the Prairie
- Like Shakespeare’s melancholic prince, Canute is haunted by unseen forces (his carvings as his "ghosts").
- The unworn suit is his Ophelia’s flowers—a symbol of love and hope that never bloomed.
A Warning Against Myths of Self-Reliance
- The American frontier myth glorifies individualism, but Canute’s fate shows its dark side—a man can be crushed by solitude.

8. Conclusion: The Shanty as a Metaphor for the Mind

Canute’s home is not just a physical space but a manifestation of his psyche:

The broken, patched-together structure = his fragile sanity.
The animal skins = his past victories that no longer sustain him.
The carvings = his unconscious fears and obsessions.
The new suit = his lost dreams of a different life.

The excerpt ends on a chilling note: the artist destroys his own work, just as Canute may be slowly destroying himself. The rattling snake skins on the door serve as a final warning—this is a place where death is always present, lurking just beyond the threshold.

Cather’s genius lies in her ability to turn a simple shanty into a gothic landscape of the soul, making Canute’s struggle both deeply personal and universally human.

Questions

Question 1

The passage’s description of the "gigantic beam curved in the shape of a round arch" serves primarily to:

A. emphasize Canute’s physical strength and his ability to manipulate natural materials through sheer willpower.
B. foreshadow the eventual collapse of the shanty due to structural instability.
C. symbolize the paradoxical fusion of human ingenuity and existential entrapment.
D. contrast the organic forms of Norwegian craftsmanship with the rigid geometry of American frontier architecture.
E. illustrate the Norwegians’ tendency toward mythologizing mundane aspects of pioneer life.

Question 2

The "suit of dark cloth, apparently new, with a paper collar carefully wrapped in a red silk handkerchief" functions most significantly as:

A. an ironic commentary on the futility of maintaining social conventions in isolation.
B. a relic of Canute’s past aspirations, preserved as both a talisman and a reproach.
C. evidence of Canute’s secret vanity, concealed beneath his otherwise ascetic lifestyle.
D. a narrative red herring, distracting from the more urgent themes of alcoholism and despair.
E. a metaphor for the Norwegian immigrant’s dual identity, torn between old-world formality and new-world pragmatism.

Question 3

The carvings on the windowsills and boards are best understood as:

A. a folk-art tradition repurposed to document the hardships of frontier life.
B. a visual manifestation of Canute’s psychological fragmentation, where labor and faith are inseparable from torment.
C. an allegorical critique of organized religion’s failure to provide solace in the American West.
D. a deliberate inversion of Norwegian rosemaling, replacing floral motifs with grotesque imagery.
E. a coping mechanism to externalize Canute’s guilt over past violence (e.g., the wolf and badger skins).

Question 4

The passage’s recurring serpent imagery (e.g., "coiled among the branches," "a serpent’s head behind every flower") primarily reinforces the theme of:

A. the inevitability of sin in a land untouched by civilizing institutions.
B. the cyclical nature of frontier life, where destruction and renewal are intertwined.
C. the corruption of beauty and hope by an inescapable, internalized malevolence.
D. Canute’s superstitious belief in literal demonic possession.
E. the Norwegian cultural association of serpents with protective spirits of the forest.

Question 5

The fact that "several of these boards had been split for kindling" is most thematically resonant with:

A. the frontier ethos of practicality over sentimentality.
B. the self-destructive impulse to erase one’s own creative or emotional expressions.
C. the literal coldness of the Nebraska winters, which supersedes aesthetic concerns.
D. Canute’s rejection of Norwegian artistic traditions in favor of American utilitarianism.
E. the passage’s broader critique of wastefulness in pioneer communities.

Solutions and Explanations

1) Correct answer: C

Why C is most correct: The "gigantic beam curved in the shape of a round arch" defies natural explanation (Norwegians joke Canute bent it himself), suggesting a superhuman or mythic effort, yet it also supports a roof covered with earth—a burden that mirrors Canute’s own existence. The beam’s unnatural shape (like an arch, which can symbolize both shelter and a tomb) encapsulates the paradox of human resilience and entrapment. It is a feat of ingenuity (he built it alone) but also a structural prison (the earth-covered roof weighs down on him). This duality aligns with the passage’s broader exploration of Canute’s self-made isolation as both an achievement and a curse.