Wednesday, January 22, 2020

All The King's Men - Setting The Atmosphere For The Story Of A Popular Corrupt Politician

The first chapter of Robert Penn Warren's classic political novel about Louisiana's Huey Long is 72 pages.  It's richly descriptive, setting the scene in 1920s rural Louisiana.  For those who are checking their screens every minute or two, the pace and detail require a mental adjustment.  It felt like landing in a foreign country  and having to slow my mind's pace and recalibrate to different cultural meanings.
"Then we saw the house.
It was set on a little rise, a biggish box of a house, two-story, rectangular, gray, and unpainted, with a tin roof, unpainted too and giving off blazes under the sun for it was new and the rust hadn't bitten down into it yet, and a big chimney at each end.  We pulled up to the gate.  The house was set up close to the road, with a good hog-wire fence around the not very big yard, and with some crepe myrtles in bloom the color of raspberry ice cream and looking cool in the heat in the corner of the yard and one live oak, nothing to brag on and dying on one side, in front of the house, and a couple of magnolias off to one side with rustiy-looking tinny leaves.  There wasn't much grass in the yard, and a half dozen hens wallowed and fluffed and cuck-cucked in the dust under the magnolia trees.  A big white hairy dog like a collie or a shepherd was lying on the front porch, a little one-story front porch that looked stuck on the bo of the house, like an afterthought.
"It looked like those farmhouses you ride by in the country in the middle of the afternoon, with the chickens under the trees and the dog asleep, and you know the only person in the house is the woman who has finished washing up the dishes and has swept the kitchen and has gone upstairs to lie down for half an hour and has pulled off her dress and kicked off her shoes and is lying there on her back on the bed in the shadowy room with her eyes closed and a strand of her hair still matted down on her forehead with the perspiration.  She listens to the flies cruising around the room, then she listens to your motor getting big out on the road, then it shrinks off into the distance and she listens to the flies.  That was the kind of house it was." (p. 33)  
The cinematographer who makes the movie has everything spelled out for her.

A Hemingway might have written:
"They approached a house with trees in front."
But Warren still has a couple more paragraphs before they get into the house.  It makes me think of Clifford Geertz'  "thick description" as he describes how anthropologists uncover layers and layers  as they go from objectively documenting objects and actions to gaining insight to their meaning.

Warren knows this country and he's giving us a tour that will help us understand the characters - major and minor - and why they act as they do.

The house is Willie Stark's pappy's house.  They stop there and then Willie and the narrator, Jack Burden, go off into the night on some business.
"Way off from the road a barn would stick up out of the mist like a house sticking out of the rising water when the river breaks the levee.  Close to the road a cow would stand knee-deep in a mist, with horns damp enough to have a pearly shine in the starlight, and would look at the black blur we were as we went whirling into the blazing corridor of lights which we could never quite get into for it would be always splitting the dark just in front of us.  The cow would stand there knee-deep in the mist and look at the black blur and the blaze and then, not turning its head, at the place where the black blur and blaze had been, with the remote, massive, unvindictive indifference of God-Almighty or Fate or me, if I were standing their knee-deep in the mist, and the blur and the blaze whizzed past and withered on off between the fields and the patches of woods.
But I wasn't standing there in the field, in the dark, with the mist turning slowly around my knees and the ticking no-noise of the night inside my head.  I was in the car, headed back to Burden's Landing, which was named for the people from whom I got my name, and which was the place where I had been born and raised." (p. 55)
This was a time when people didn't have televisions.  Maybe radios.  Books.  Lots of time to sit around and talk with others.  

This first chapter introduces us to the key characters and to the country they live in.   As Jack and Willie arrive in Jack's home town, they are going to visit a judge who was like a second father to Jack.  Willie's not happy with the judge who has just endorsed a candidate Willie isn't backing.  We see in this encounter not only Willie squeezing the judge for a changes endorsement, but even more ruthlessly, how he uses Jack to help him humiliate Jack's old mentor.

It's late at night when Willie (aka The Boss) gets Jack to show him where Judge Irwin's house is and then pushes Jack to get them in.
"'Park out here,' the Boss said.  And then to me, "There's a light.  The bugger ain't in bed.  You go on and knock on the door and tell him I want to see him."
'Suppose he won't open up?'
'He will,' the Boss said, 'But if he won't you make him.  What the hell do I pay your for!'
I got out of the car and went in the gate and started up the shell walk under the black trees.  Then I heard the Boss coming after me.  We went up the walk with him just behind me, and up the gallery steps.
The Boss stood to one side, and I pulled open the screen and knocked on the door.  I knocked again; then looking in through the glass by the door I saw a door open off the hall -where the library was, I remembered - then a side light come on in the hall.  He was coming to the door.  I could see him through the glass while he fumbled with the lock.
'Yes?' he asked.
'Good evening, Judge,' I said.
He stood there blinking into the dark outside, trying to make out my face.
'It's Jack Burden,' I said.
'Well, well, Jack - well I'll be jiggered.'  And he put out his hand.  'Come in.' He even looked glad to see me. . . "
The next ten pages verbally film the interaction between the Boss, Jack, and Judge Irwin.  It's a cold, cunning, chilling encounter that probably isn't unlike some of the interactions between Trump's henchmen and his prey.  Though even the Boss has a lot more class than Trump.

All that foreshadowing was getting us to this meeting at the end the first chapter.  I'll give more details of that encounter tomorrow.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Comments will be reviewed, not for content (except ads), but for style. Comments with personal insults, rambling tirades, and significant repetition will be deleted. Ads disguised as comments, unless closely related to the post and of value to readers (my call) will be deleted. Click here to learn to put links in your comment.