Daria Doering

My Antonia by Willa Cather

My Antonia is about the most affecting book I’ve ever read.  I haven’t cried so much in a long time.  It’s about the deep, deep bonds between people … Jim didn’t marry any of these girls he loved so much, or even have affairs with them … but the beauty with which they expressed themselves … He said to Antonia, “I used to wish you were my sweetheart, or wife, or mother, or sister, or anything a woman can be to a man …”

It’s about class … the very hard lives of these immigrants … how people looked down on them, yet yearned for the girls …

It’s about paradoxes, how so often things turn out differently than you expected.  The scorned immigrants turned out to be the successful ones … Antonia had a tragic episode, but then recovered …

It’s about the nature of fun … how the dancing tent came to town, and changed everything.

This book made me feel like I haven’t lived more than anything else I’ve ever read.  The group was so close … had such a good time amid their hard life.

Also these books about the Midwest … living on a farm seems to sear “place” into a person in a way that they never get over … that they are nostalgic for and deeply attached to, but ultimately go away from.

It was about love and separation … people scattered to the four winds, yet so attached forever.

Another thing that amazed me about the book was that it seemed so much like a very interesting male point of view … I continually reminded myself that it was written by a woman … it seems so profoundly male, it’s hard to believe.

Many of the descriptions and metaphors were priceless.

I liked the fact that many bad people were described as well as good ones.

It gave me this odd feeling that I haven’t lived … Maybe when people have too much, it’s harder to have a truly good time …

The book also made me think about memories … Antonia continually told her children about Jim and her other childhood friends … Do I do that about anyone?  Why is it so hard to verbalize anything?  Maybe because I write everything down, I forget it.

My Antonia seemed to address all the themes that are at the heart of my own dialogue with life:

• What do you do with someone of the opposite sex with whom you have an intense, primordial relationship?
• How do you “have fun,” especially in a lonely, primitive place?
• What is the nature of having fun?  Music and dancing?  Telling stories?  Cooking and eating?
• How do we stay connected with those we care about, across time and across geographic distances?
• What do you do when your destiny seems to lie in a different place and lifestyle than someone who is very important to you?
• Why are some of the most worthy people looked down upon?
• Why do some people who appear to be “bad” come out ahead?  Why do some people who appear to be “good” come out behind?  Are these outcomes temporary or lasting?
• How important is it to have children?
• Can you recreate something you’ve lost?
• Why do we long for things, and what can we do about it?