Category Archives: Western Literature Association Conference

2010 WLA Conference and New Arizona Immigration Law

Greetings from Arizona,

As you may know, last Friday the Arizona State legislature passed an extreme anti-immigrant law. The law, promptly signed by Governor Jan Brewer, allows for drastic measures to be taken against suspected illegal immigrants. This law will lead to racial profiling and is racist, intolerant, and stridently anti-humanitarian.  Many in the state, in the west, and indeed in the nation are shocked by what the Arizona governor calls a “tough” attitude toward “border security.”

There has been some talk among WLA members about the ethical implications of our 2010 conference in Prescott. As WLA president, I believe that there is no more urgent moment for us to come together to counter the oppressive politics of Arizona and other like-minded states who legislate the denial of human and civil rights. I am in this business because I believe in the transformative power of literature; I am certain many of you do, too. In addition to the topics suggested in this year’s call for papers, and the usual rich diversity of topics our members inevitably present on, there is certainly room for papers and panels on the literature of immigration, the globalization of the American West, the contemporary or historical literature of racial discord, of labor, of land and territory. And what better year to honor our Distinguished Achievement Award recipient Luis Valdez, who began his career writing and producing agitprop theater to demonstrate the humanity of Mexican American farm workers? His work on behalf of civil rights in the face of those who seek to deny these rights should be a reminder to us: artistic expression is a powerful force against oppression.

In today’s New York Times, op-ed columnist (click on highlight section for link to the whole column) Linda Greenhouse presents a good alternative to boycotting, which may actually hurt innocent small business owners and divest us of our political voice: “Here’s a modest proposal. Everyone remembers the wartime Danish king who drove through Copenhagen wearing a Star of David in support of his Jewish subjects. It’s an apocryphal story, actually, but an inspiring one. Let the good people of Arizona — and anyone passing through — walk the streets of Tucson and Phoenix wearing buttons that say: I Could Be Illegal.”

I look forward, more than ever, to seeing you in Prescott in October.

Sincerely,

Gioia Woods

President, Western Literature Association

Saturday Activities

After the business meeting brought the Western Literature Association Conference to a close, we mostly dispersed to get out of the hotel and into South Dakota for awhile. Many people went to Deadwood, where the Festival of the Book was taking place. There was also a WLA sponsored tour of Spearfish Canyon, which continued on into Deadwood. There was also much interest in Devils Tower, Wyoming.

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And, from Neil Campbell:

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And, in the Badlands, off Highway 44 West:

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Taking Care of Business

The WLA Conference concluded with Saturday’s business meeting, which was presided over by Bob Thacker, who was finishing out his term as Executive Secretary (which he has been doing for the past nine years). To thank Bob for his service (or maybe “thank” is not quite the word), the WLA A Cappella Group (Christine Smith, Alan Weltzien, Bill Handley, Judy Nolte Temple) treated us all to a performance of “Bob’s The Man” (sung to the tune of “Barbara Ann”). Even more expressions of gratitude followed:

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Live from the WLA Conference (Oct 3)

The Western Literature Association Conference is wrapping up today, with just a couple of sessions, the business meeting, and the group excursion (a trip into Spearfish Canyon and on into Deadwood and Lead) remaining. Yesterday, among other activities, I went to a panel of readings by writers whose short stories are featured in the Best of the West anthology, and to the conference’s second Oscar Micheaux panel, with Jerry Wilske, director of the Oscar Micheaux Center in Gregory, South Dakota, and Joyce Jefferson, an independent scholar and performance artist (she has created performances in which she played the roles of some of the women in Micheaux’s life, including his first wife).

Friday went by pretty quickly and included, in addition to the sessions, a Reader’s Theater performance (a parody of the Deadwood series). Below, Charlie Utter opines over the grave of Wild Bill Hickok.

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Last night was also conference banquet, where WLA award winners for the year were announced:

Don D. Walker Award (best essay in western American literature studies):

Mark Rifkin

Wylder Award (outstanding service to the WLA):

Charles Crow

J. Golden Taylor Award (best essay submitted by a graduate student):

Joshua O’Brien

Thomas J. Lyon Book Award:

Thomas Lynch, Xerophilia: Ecocritical Explorations in Southwestern Literature

Frederick Manfred Award (creative writing submission):

Denice Turner

Louis Owens Award (graduate student presenters contributing most to cultural diversity in WLA):

Carole Juge and Andrew E. Murray

Willa Pilla Award (for conference humor or an approximation thereof):

Robert Thacker (for lifetime achievement)

Live From the WLA Conference (Friday)

Once more from the book exhibit room at the Western Literature Association conference in Spearfish, South Dakota, blogging live.

It’s been difficult to find a time to blog. I’ve been busy going to various panels, too many to write about them all.  I’ve heard interesting presentations on the use of mannikins in exhibits at county and city historical museums throughout the west, photographic post cards from the 1900s (studio photos of individuals decked out in cowboy clothes), the movie Frozen River, to name just of few of the interesting papers I’ve heard.

The highlight of yesterday may have been the “Deadwood Songbook” session, where musicians Hank Harris, Kenny Putnam, and Rick Jacobsen performed 19th century songs that would have been popular in Deadwood during its mining heyday.

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For nearly two hours, the group performed songs such as “The Dreary Black Hills” (“. . . my advice to unfold / Don’t go to the Black Hills looking for gold”), “Days of ’49,” “Oh Susannah,” and their “new wave” song (published in 1910), “Redwing.” They also did a smoking version of “John Henry.”

John Henry, of course, was a steel driving man, whose job became obsolete because of technological advances. It occurred to me that this is a repeated story in American history, of individuals who have mastered and excelled at a particular laboring job only to have that skill become no longer needed. But, we don’t seem to have any songs about, say, typists (she could type 140 words a minute, but she was beaten by photocopy machine).

Anyway, the “Deadwood Songbook” session was fantastic. Check out Hank Harris’ website for more information. And, for anyone who’s interested in CDs of the music, there are now two volumes available of The Deadwood Songbook.

Live from the WLA Conference

Okay, I’m making my first attempt at blogging live from the conference, stationed at a table in the book exhibit room.  I’ll try to provide some reporting on the conference as it happens, even though it will only be a narrow slice of all that is going on.

I attended a couple of panels this morning, including the Oscar Micheaux and the American West panel (which I also chaired). Micheaux was an innovative African American filmmaker with a South Dakota connection. He had a homestead near Gregory in the early 1900s, and he wrote several books about those experiences, including The Conquest and The Homesteader.  In addition to my paper on Micheaux’s 1931 film The Exile (a landmark in film history, the first feature length film helmed by an African American director), Cynthia Miller placed The Exile in the context of Micheaux’s films as a whole, particularly in terms of Micheaux’s interest in “preachment,” on creating films with a message.

Given the South Dakota location of the conference, The Exile is of interest for being set partially “Somewhere in South Dakota” (as an intertitle reads). We were able to watch several long clips from the South Dakota sequence (filmed, alas, in New Jersey), and it was interesting to compare the much more concrete evocation of space in Micheaux’s novels to the more abstract idea of a frontier used in The Exile.

Just got out of a session focused partly on D. J. Waldie’s memoir, Holy Land, with a paper by Nancy Cook describing her own recent experiences “prowling” the Lakewood suburb where the memoir takes place. Cook got to know Lakewood in part through the “open house circuit,” visiting houses for sale, taking photos of various sites along the way (“Times Change, Values Don’t,” the new Lakewood motto).

Both Cook and Neil Campbell (who also presented on Waldie) pointed out that Waldie’s purpose is to have us notice a landscape (suburbia) that people usually barely notice. Campbell suggested that  Waldie is part of an “expanded critical regionalism” that asks us to learn from the landscapes in which we actually live.  Holy Land consists of  “micronarratives of place,” seeing in everyday life moments of revelation of grace.  The key idea behind both presentations was the necessity of looking beyond the suburb as an example of sprawl, to see (in contrast to the view of the aerial photos of suburbs that provide the dominant image of suburbia) the “everyday life on the ground” that is obscured by our attention to the long-distance view.

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Visual Evidence of Lunch at the Swedish Diner

Sue Maher described our lunch event at the Swedish diner in Chicago. Here are some visuals to accompany her description:

We started out with huge sweet rolls, served atop slices of homemade bread

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White sausage, Swedish meatballs, roast duck with lingonberry sauce, pickled cabbage with with caraway

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We ate in the upstairs dining room, where the walls were covered with Swedish folk art

(there’s Margaret Doane at the very left hand edge of the picture. Sorry to cut you off, Margaret!)

We also had salad, coffee, strawberries and fudgy brownies. I was too overwhelmed to document the entire event. The staff did a great job getting our group of 55 in and out of the restaurant; we were running late when we arrived and had to make it back to the conference site for a plenary session.

Day Three of the Cather International Seminar

Day Three: Cather International Seminar

In the morning, 55 seminar participants boarded a tour bus to make the trip north along Lake Shore Drive to Andersonville and Uptown, neighborhoods connected with Cather’s Thea Kronborg and Lucy Gayheart as well as Cather childhood friend, Irene Miner Weisz, immortalized as Nina Harling in My Antonia. Neighbor Fannie Wiener (Mrs. Rosen in “Old Mrs. Harris”) is also connected to this part of Chicago: she is buried in Rosehill Cemetery, having died in Chicago during a visit to the 1893 World’s Fair.

Our energetic and witty tour guide, scholar Tony Millspaugh, provided commentary as our able driver, Cheryl, negotiated Lake Shore Drive and neighborhood streets. She was deft within Rosehill Cemetery as well, whose lanes were clearly not designed to carry large tour buses! First we went up Michigan Avenue, past the expensive stores and hotels–Burberry, Ralph Lauren, Saks, Tiffany’s, Chanel, The Drake, and other high, high-end places–and the Gold Coast area made famous by the Rockefeller and McCormick empires. We whizzed past many landmarks from the University Center: Frank Gheary’s bridge and “The Bean” or “Cloud Gate,” the Art Institute of Chicago, The Fountain of the Great Lakes in its courtyard, the Y (where the two branches of the Chicago River merge and head to the lake), Pioneer Park with its recreation of Grant Wood’s American Gothic, a number of Louis Sullivan buildings, and the Chicago Water Works, which was supposed to end the too-frequent cholera outbreaks that plagued 19th-century Chicago. The statues of Grant, Lincoln, and Phil Sheridan greeted us along the lake, as well as the Lincoln Park Zoo animals. We passed marinas full of boats, and the Lincoln Park Boat House which shelters various sculls for rowing. Tony regaled us with many stories of Chicago’s old mayors (two of whom were assassinated), Oprah, President Obama, sin and infamy (he recommended the book Sin in the Second City), and tales of the beer wars. Chicago has more bars, Tony told us, than any other American city. Between the German beer gardens and the Irish saloons, not to mention the Fort Dearborn Massacre in 1812 brought on by the dumping of liquor, Chicago has had a lively, colorful history connected to “the drink.” At this point in the 21st century, one can definitely say that the Carrie Nations of the USA did not win the beer wars! Tony told us about the 1871 fire, which destroyed much of Chicago along what is now Lincoln Park. He also pointed out the buildings and streets that Irene Miner Weisz lived in and that Cather visited when she came through the Windy City.

We weren’t able to go to the Chicago History Museum, but Tony highly recommends it. It is near one of Irene Miner’s homes. When she visited Chicago, Cather would use Irene’s credit at Marshall Field’s to purchase things for herself. She even held a book signing at Field’s great store, now gone and replaced by “the evil red star, Macy’s,” according to Tony. As we entered into the north ethnic neighborhoods, now the Edgewater area of town, Tony pointed out his favorite statue of Abraham Lincoln, a young man reading a book. We also passed Western Avenue, Chicago’s longest avenue. A Swede, Pers Peterson, planted most of the trees in pioneer Chicago, helping to establish its “garden in a city” culture. Chicago’s wonderful green spaces owe much to Peterson’s vision. Cheryl gingerly pulled into the Rosehill Cemetery, clearly not designed for unwieldy modern tour buses! We walked to the burial sites of Irene Miner Weisz and Fannie Wiener, who died during the 1893 Chicago Fair and had to be buried within 24 hours, the Jewish custom. She now rests in an old Jewish section of the cemetery. Irene lived a long life–1881-1971. In Andersonville, one finds the Nelson Funeral Home, where Irene and her husband, who preceded her in death, were “rested”–or is it fested?– the Swedish term for a wake. Thankfully the temperature today is tolerable; the walk around the cemetery was a bit longer than people had expected, so we had to hurry to Ann Sather’s for lunch in order to return downtown for afternoon sessions. Anne Kaufman hopes to add a photo of our meal later on. I forgot my camera this trip.

My sister and I are still recovering from the luncheon meal! While some of us ordered vegetarian–an overly ample portion of salad–most of us wanted to try the restaurant’s famed “Swedish Sampler.” It was overwhelming! Duck with lingonberry sauce, white sausage, Swedish meatballs, noodles and gravy, kraut, humongous cinnamon rolls, and strawberries and chocolate squares–way too much food to process! With just a few seconds to spare, I ran into the Swedish American Museum to purchase a “Velkommen” sign for my home, a connection to my paternal grandmother’s family, the Dahlquists and Christies, who settled in Andersonville. It’s worth Googling Ann Sather to read about this wonderful restaurant. The walls are all decorated with rosemaling paintings; we ate upstairs in a charming area overlooking the street.

We passed familiar territory on the way back, but Tony pointed out some new features we had missed: the splendidly elaborate terra cotta decorations on Uptown buildings, the ferris wheel at the old Navy Pier, the Palmolive Building with its dirigible landing pad (never used–the Hindenberg disaster happened) that became home to Hugh Hefner’s Playboy Club, and all of the Mies van der Rohe skyscrapers along the lake. We passed Gheary’s fanciful Bean again, and Cheryl twisted and turned around downtown before landing us back at the university center: happy, smarter than we were before we left, and ready for the afternoon sessions. I have to chair a session on “Southwestern Modernism” in half an hour, so I’ll sign out for today. Tonight I plan on resting up, reading more of Mildred Bennet’s The World of Willa Cather, and beginning to pack up for the train trip home tomorrow afternoon. Thank you Tony for a great tour of the quintessential American city!

Day Two: Cather International Seminar

From Susan Maher:

Day Two: Cather International Seminar

This evening, participants at the seminar gathered on the 22nd floor of 200 South Michigan Avenue in the Cliff Dwellers Club, founded by writer Hamlin Garland. What a panoramic view we enjoyed! The entire day has been lovely–tolerable summer temperatures, lots of crowds attending the Taste of Chicago event at Grant Park, regattas sailing out of the marina into Lake Michigan to enjoy brisk winds and good water. From our vantage point, we could see the curve of the shore, lined with skyscrapers at the ends, with Grant and Millenium Parks front and center. Below us sat the Chicago Art Institute, a place Cather knew well. Stretching to the north for miles and miles was the lake, Godfrey St. Peter’s favored element in The Professor’s House. We sipped our drinks, gnoshed on hors d’oeuvres, and held lively conversations about all things Cather.

A memorable plenary session today focused on the two newest scholarly editions: Youth and the Bright Medusa, edited by Mark Madigan, and Sapphira and the Slave Girl, edited by WLA member Ann Romines. Mark showed a number of photographs of relevant personalities and sites connected to Cather’s urban stories set in New York, Pittsburgh, Boston, and tangentially Chicago. Mark compared Cather’s journalistic essays and short pieces to their later revisions and reworkings in Cather’s short fiction. “She liked these descriptions well enough to revise,” Mark concluded. These small revisions that fed into short stories set the stage for Cather’s larger revisions of material into her novels.

Of particular interest were Mark’s materials on “Paul’s Case,” set in Pittsburgh. He showed a contemporary photo of the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, were Paul lives, for a brief time, in material luxury. Mark’s most fascinating materials, however, connected to the Denny robbery and to silent film star Tommy Meaghan, both part of Pittsburgh lore. Mark and Tim Bintrim have been tracing the boy robbers who stole $2,000 from the Denny vault and then fled–to Chicago and then Milwaukee. The mastermind, James Wilson, and his companion were arrested in Milwaukee after enjoying some high living in Chicago. Upon their return to Pittsburgh, the two boys’ parents hired good lawyers and got the boys off. Paul’s fate is much worse in Cather’s story. Mark and Tim hope to flesh out the two robbers’ stay in Chicago.

Paul is particularly taken by the juvenile lead in the story. Mark discovered that Charley is none other than silent film star Tommy Meaghan, who began his early stage career playing young heroes in Pittsburgh theater as an 18 year old. Between 1916 and 1927, Meaghan was one of Hollywood’s big stars, earning $5,000 per week–big money in those days. Mark segued into “The Sculptor’s Funeral.” Though set in Sand City, Kansas, the dead artist, Merrick, was based on Pittsburgh artist Charles Henry Reinhart, who lived from 1844-1896. Upon his death, Pittsburgh barely acknowledged this talented son, admired the world over for his artistic vision. Cather herself wrote a eulogy for the neglected Reinhart in The Home Monthly, attempting to redress the community’s rejection of this man. Mark found Reinhart’s fallen tombstone in the Allegheny Cemetery in Pittsburgh, across the river from St. Mary’s cemetery, where Tommy Meaghan is buried and acknowledged. Mark was able to help restore Reinhart’s tombstone in the Allegheny Cemetery, and he showed before and after pictures of this great artist’s final resting place.

Editor Ann Romines turned our attention to Cather’s Shenandoah Valley. Ann drew a parallel between Cather’s final journey, her return to home and family history, and Ann’s own journey across Cather’s southern geography. Ann currently lives 75 miles from Frederick County and Willow Shade. She has traced numerous maps, genealogy records, and census data to provide a fuller vision of this antebellum world. As Ann put it, “the infrastructure of the novel still exists.” The many homes in Sapphira, the millhouse, the cemeteries, and churches are mostly extant. Ann says that her journey to Frederick County was like “driving into the pages of the book itself.” By remapping Cather’s southern space, Ann notes that one can better appreciate “place, history, memory, and fiction,” as well as gain insight into “writerly practice and the trajectory of [Cather’s] career.” Ann also reminded us that the autobiographical epilogue to the novel, resisted by her publisher, “is singular in her fiction.” In Ann’s assessment, Cather spent a “lifelong negotiation with her southern connections.” In this soil lies 300 years of Cather family habitation and memory.

In opening up the world of Sapphira, Ann connected to other writers. She mentioned Ellen Douglas, contemporary author, whose family stories “Old Enough to Tell” gave Ann the title of her presentation. Ann concluded that Cather needed to be old enough to tell this complex, vexed family history. At the same time Cather was writing this final novel, published in 1940, “contending southern visions”–Mitchell’s and Faulkner’s–were published, attempting to evaluate antebellum culture and slavery. While “Cather underplayed her family’s role in slavery,” Ann suggested, the author was still trying, in a dispassionate, unsentimental, and “unvarnished” way, to reveal “something terrible under the surface.” Ann also told the audience that young Cather “may have been shielded by combustible stories” that focused unflattering light on Cather family history.

My favorite insight of Ann’s had to do with her application of Edward Said’s idea of the “late style” (the name of his final study). “Modernism,” Ann asserted, “is a movement of aging and ending.” She highlighted the “special maturity in Cather’s last novel.” Quoting Said, Ann asked “what if age and ill health don’t provide serenity?” Cather, in her last completed work, is “tampering with closure,” giving us a “perplexed and unsettled” story, which should be celebrated in Cather’s oeuvre as “a triumph of late style.”

Many other sessions were memorable today, and I hope that other participants on Westlit will add their voices to my own blog. A light-hearted moment today occurred in Steven Trout’s assessment of The Professor’s House as an academic novel that examines “homo academicus.” When Cather was drafting this novel, two other writers, Veblen and Sinclair, had already published scathing critiques of American higher education. Steve reminded us that Cather indicts a number of areas in higher education that remain topical: the problem of admission standards; the competing definitions of scholarship that often leads to the devaluing of “pure” research over pragmatic research; the onslaught against the liberal arts; the fear that university training was becoming trade school; the danger of censorship and the loss of academic freedom; and the perils of privatization and private/public collaborations on American campuses. Much of Steve’s trenchant analysis left us laughing, providing a good tonic to clarify the afternoon.

Tomorrow I tour Chicago’s ethnic north neighborhoods with my sister Kris. This tour is significant for us because our Swedish relatives first settled in Andersonville before assimilating into American society and dispersing out to other regions. I hope to have some good descriptions of our tour tomorrow for Westlit readers. Good night for now from downtown Chicago!