|
| Border States: Journal of the Kentucky-Tennessee American Studies Association, No. 11 (1997) |
"Gone to Texas," a phrase that appears several times
in Peter Taylor's fiction, is used to describe Tennesseans--usually
men--who have decided to leave family, community, and social restraints
behind and head west for a new life. Much of Peter Taylor's earlier
fiction is devoted to the idea of crossing the rigid social boundaries
dictated by upper- or upper-middle-class life in the modern South.
Some women are able to cross social borders while others cannot
in "The Fancy Woman," and two women in "A Long
Fourth" realize that the borders of race and class can be
transcended by common human experiences of love, loss, and suffering.
In a later story, "In the Miro District," the borders
of generations are briefly erased by a shared love of mischief.
And, in Taylor's most recent fiction, the borders between life
and death and real and imagined experiences are blurred by ghosts,
dreams, and visions which lead characters out of the conventional
upper-class South and into the "terra incognita." A
survey of Taylor's last four fictional works reveals his continued
fascination with geographical, social, moral, racial, and existential
borders and their crossing, but the phrase "Gone to Texas"
seems to sum up the most radical rejection of the social and moral
values associated with Taylor's fictionalized versions of Tennessee.
The phrase "Gone to Texas" first appears in "The
Old Forest," a short story which first appeared in The
New Yorker in 1979 and was collected in 1985 as the title
story of a volume. It is narrated by an older middle-aged man,
Nat Ramsey, who remembers an incident which occurred in Memphis
in 1937 when he was engaged to marry a debutante, Caroline Braxley,
and he was employed in his father's cotton brokerage. In the Memphis
of 1937 debutantes did not hold jobs, and young women who worked
in offices did not "come out." Nat remembers that in
spite of his engagement, he and his friends liked to go to bars
and beer gardens with "working girls of a superior kind"
(66) even after
the engagement had been announced "at an an MCC [Memphis
Country Club] party" (33).
Nat and his friends, in a combination of arrogance and innocence,
refer to the working girls as "demimondaines," and later
as "demimondaines," but he describes them this way:
They read books, they looked at pictures, and they were apt to attend any concert of play that came to Memphis. When the old San Carlo Opera Company turned up in town, you could count on certain girls of the demimonde being present in their block of seats, and often with a score of the opera in hand. From that you will understand that they certainly weren't the innocent, untutored types that we generally took to dances at the Memphis Country Club and whom we eventually looked forward to marrying. (32)
Nat is involved in a minor automobile accident while one of the
working girls is riding in the car with him. The girl, Lee Ann
Deehart, runs away from the scene of the accident and hides from
the police, from Nat, from Nat's father's friends--one of whom
edits the newspaper--and lawyers, who all feel that they must
find her and assure themselves that she is both unharmed and un-pregnant
before the wedding can take place seven days later. However, it
is Caroline who finds Lee Ann because, she tells Nat, to cancel
the wedding would make her "a jilted, a rejected girl"
and, she continues, "some part of my power to protect myself
would be gone forever" (88).
Caroline, very much to Nat's surprise, admires Lee Ann and the
"demimondaines" because, she tells him,
they have the freedom to jump out of your car, freedom from you, freedom to run off into the woods. . . . Men have always been able to do it. . . just because they wanted to. They used to write "Gone to Texas" on the front door and leave the house and the farm to be sold for taxes. They were considered black sheep for doing so, [but] they were something of heroes, too. (85)
Even before Caroline utters the phrase "gone to Texas,"
Taylor's narrator suggests that Texas is seen as a place free
of the social constraints of cities like Memphis. In the search
for Lee Ann, she is believed by several people to be "from
Texas" (61,71),
a place sufficiently large and vague in their Memphis imaginations
to seem as exotic--and as liberating--as California, and Caroline
compares her to the adventurous Tennessee men who have "gone
to Texas." Significantly, Caroline and Nat have traveled
East on the old Bristol Highway when Caroline makes her remark
about going to Texas. If Texas and the West represent a new start
or a new way of life, Caroline realizes that she is forever allied
to the older, more traditional kind of life in Tennessee, represented
by their brief journey backwards into Tennessee's past, signified
by one of its easternmost cities, Bristol. Nat remarks that Caroline
and the other Memphis debutantes are "the heirs to something"
(50) and that they
are connected to old family plantations somewhere in their pasts,
but that the working girls are free from the social constraints
dictated by their pasts. Texas, Caroline says, is "Out West"
where the men she has described "got a new start or [began]
life over. But there was never a women in our family who did that!
There was no way it could happen" (85).
Lee Ann and her working-girl friends betoken a new life where
women, too, can "go to Texas."
Texas or "going to Texas" represents for the characters
in "The Old Forest" a new start, a clean break from
the past, but at an option traditionally open primarily to men.
We learn that in their later lives, after they have married, Caroline
and Nat leave the comfortable world of Memphis' upper class and
Nat earns the degree necessary to become a university professor
(much as Peter Taylor himself had done). Perhaps because she understands
the value of "going to Texas," Caroline is able to make
the transition successfully.
A subsequent Taylor work shows us a women who is not able to take
up her roots and move West. In A Summons to Memphis (1986),
as in at an earlier story "The Captain's Son,"
Taylor contrasts Nashville to Memphis, and the more Western city,
rather like the "Texas" in "The Old Forest"
is "something else. . . . Memphis was today. Nashville was
yesterday" (Summons 28).
Similarly, in "The Captain's Son," Memphis is "flat,
and sunbaked and endlessly sprawling" (36)--a
description that might well fit the state of Texas. Mrs. Carver,
the narrator's mother in A Summons to Memphis, is
prepared to adjust to her husband's choice of Memphis over their
home in Nashville. Phillip Carver tells us, "I believe Mother
did instantly love Memphis and but for Father would have melted
into the life there. She likes cards, and gossip and striking
clothes and Country Club food" (27).
In the geographical economy of A Summons to Memphis,
Nashville is--as Taylor told William Broadway--"starchy"
(19), and in
the judgment of Taylor scholar Catherine Clark Graham, Taylor's
Memphis in this novel is "vulgar" (158).
But with vulgarity also comes, we have seen, the chance to begin
life anew, as Phillip's two vulgar sisters do. Mrs. Carver is
not allowed to enjoy her new life in Memphis because of her husband's
unfavorable comparisons of the two cities, and so she eventually
takes to her bed. Her son's escape--his version of "going
to Texas"--is, ironically, achieved by going to Manhattan.
As we will see, Manhattan also proves to be a later character's
"Texas."
Taylor's next work after A Summons to Memphis was
The Oracle at Stoneleigh Court,
published in 1993. It was Taylor's final collection of short stories,
and it contains some of his least typical works in terms of theme,
if not in terms of form. Perhaps because he was near to the end
of his own life and in failing health from strokes and heart attacks,
there are supernatural characters in many of the stories who drift
back and forth across the borders of this world and the next with
remarkable ease. Three of the short plays are reprints from his
volume Presences, published twenty years previously,
in 1973. All seven plays from Presences are about
ghosts who return to speak with the living. Other stories in Oracle
feature similarly liminal characters who straddle "existence"
in two worlds. For example, the principle female in "The
Witch of Owl Mountain Springs: At an Account of her Remarkable
Powers" is a witch, Miss Lizzie Pettigru, who lives in a
fictional version of the Monteagle Assembly Grounds and gets revenge
for a youthful jilting. She has--perhaps--been able to do this
by changing herself from a person into a small woodland creature,
crossing the border of humanity into the animal kingdom.
In a less Gothic short story, "Demons," the narrator
remembers at an older cousin named Talbot who crosses both matrimonial
and geographical boundaries. Talbot sets fire to his house, which
had been the family's first homestead built in the ante-bellum
days, abandons his wife, and disappears on his galloping horse.
"Two days later, news came that a married woman in a neighboring
town, whose name had long been connected with Talbot's had vanished
that same night." The narrator remembers feeling "envy,
admiration, and [importantly] dread" upon hearing this news
(94). Talbot
has not "gone to Texas" literally, but his behavior
certainly fits the description Caroline has given in "The
Old Forest" and has provoked both envy and fear in those
left behind in Tennessee.
The same sense of curiosity and dread is expressed in "Cousin
Aubrey," the story from The Oracle at Stoneleigh Court
which was later expanded into Taylor's final novel, In the Tennessee Country.
It begins with this sentence: "In the Tennessee country of
my forebears it was not uncommon for a man of good character suddenly
to disappear" (167).
These words are spoken by Nathan Longfort, the narrator of both
the story and the later novel. Cousin Aubrey, the illegitimate
son of Nathan's great-uncle, disappears after the death of the
Nathan's grandfather, who was the former governor and, at the
time of the story, Senator from Tennessee. Aubrey's disappearance
is backgrounded for Nathan by the narrator's own near-mania for
other stories of vanished Tennesseans: stories about Sam Houston,
who left his bride, "a Nashville belle. . . and abandoned
as well his newly won gubernatorial chair" to live, for a
time, among the Indians before :he went on to found the independent
Republic of Texas. But, for us, the point is that he never returned
to Tennessee" (169).
Other Tennesseans Taylor's narrator cites are a Confederate senator
who "went off to live in Brazil" and numerous other
private citizens of Tennessee who left only "a crudely lettered
sign nailed to a tree trunk in the front yard of at an abandoned
farmhouse, reading simply, 'Gone to Texas'" (170-71).
As it does in "The Old Forest," the phrase "Gone
to Texas" implies much more: leaving behind the social and
moral constraints of family and, in Taylor's stories, social class
in order to experience the outside world. The Confederate Senator
dies a street pauper in the slums of Rio de Janeiro; Cousin Aubrey,
we discover in In the Tennessee Country, becomes
a gigolo and a poseur, but in the process he ceases to be the
bastard son of a Tennessee politician; we all know what happened
to Sam Houston. Those left behind, because of their own "narrow
natures," live in a world no larger than their own part of
Tennessee, and what the leaving characters go to or become when
they get there is far less important to those left behind than
the fact that they "never returned to Tennessee."
Nathan Longfort's father dies when Nathan is still a young child.
He tries to remember his father as the years pass but concludes
that his memories are simply too shadowy. he says, "I would
sometimes delude myself with the thought that perhaps he had,
like those other Tennessee men, only gone away without saying
where he was going and that unlike them he would at last come
back home again" (95).
Eventually, though, Nathan realizes that his father has gone much
further away than Texas, but the phrase's meaning becomes even
more loaded. By now, "going to Texas" can mean crossing
not just out of Tennessee, but out of this world altogether.
Another character from this novel who literally "goes to
Texas" also "goes to Texas" metaphorically. While
living in Greenwich Village, Nathan develops a crush on at an
actress old enough to be his mother. The actress, who has already
been married five times, takes a sixth husband, a fellow cast
member who is also a licensed pilot. The two of them marry and
fly off "in his plan to East Texas. But the 'smart-looking
little plane' as I had heard him describe it, crashed in fog while
passing over the Cumberland Mountains of Tennessee" (140).
Nathan must go there to identify the bodies, but he says of his
former lover, "the face of the dead Linda Campbell seemed
strangely unfamiliar. Like the face of someone I could not place
in the receding past of my boyhood" (140).
His old lover's attempt to leave her familiar world behind for
the unknown world of East Texas ends, ironically, where Nathan's
own past resides--"in the Tennessee country." Perhaps,
like Caroline Braxley and unlike Lee Ann Deehart, the actress
cannot successfully "go to Texas." Nathan never quite
leaves the Tennessee country, either, settling for a stodgy appointment
as at an art history professor at the University of Virginia rather
than becoming the artist he hoped to become as a young man.
Nathan Longfort does finally rediscover his long-disappeared cousin
Aubrey, with the help of his grown son Brax. Nathan and his family
live, at this time, in Charlottesville, and Brax is the artist
his father hoped to, but could not, become. Brax and old Cousin
Aubrey bond together as friends, and like Cousin Aubrey, Brax,
too, leaves without notice, although he does not disappear completely.
he goes off into another 'terra incognita"--Greenwich Village,
the place where Nathan had tried to establish himself as at an
artist many years before, without success. Only after leaving
the comfortable academic world of Charlottesville--and his father's
metaphorical world of Tennessee--can Brax cross the borderline
from smug, conservative gentility into the morally and aesthetically
more open frontiers of Greenwich Village and successful artistic
expression. The realization that his son has metaphorically "Gone
to Texas" causes Nathan some dismay at first, and he remembers
thinking: "He was going to abandon us all and begin with
the other life that was inevitable for him. I could imagine that
there had been a mutual confession between him and his old cousin"
(221). Eventually,
though, Nathan realizes the value of leaving, just as Phillip
Carver did in A Summons to Memphis. Nathan finally
says, "Like those men I heard about even before he was born,
he was plunging into the terra incognita from which no man willingly
returns" (224).
however, In the Tennessee Country ends with this
sentence: "Certain thoughts may occur to me sometimes, but
I've taught myself better than to voice them--not even questions
about Cousin Aubrey Bradshaw and whether his course was perhaps
the better one" (226).
The reader can voice the questions as well as the answers.
Although "Texas" in its many manifestations may be "endlessly
sprawling and sunbaked," "vulgar," or--in the case
of Sam Houston and Davy Crockett--deadly, it is the goal of the
adventurer, the man or woman who strikes out to find his or her
own way. In the final analysis, "Going to Texas" means
leaving the familiar world--the Tennessee Country--behind, as
Sam Houston did, as Nathan's actress/paramour did, as all the
countless migrants did throughout the nineteenth and early twentieth
century did. Taylor told Hubert H. McAlexander, "Sam Houston
lived at the right time for him--that frontier period when a person
could simply leave, disappear, and go to another place to begin
anew and make his destiny" (126).
Taylor himself admits to McAlexander, that like some of his characters,
he "could not have stood the isolation" (126),
but the characters who has "Gone to Texas" do find out
what is in the world beyond, whether it is Texas or Greenwich
Village--or even the next world, the "terra incognita."
Graham, Catherine Clark. Southern Accents: The Fiction of
Peter Taylor. New York: Lang, 1994.
McAlexander, Hubert H. "A Composite Conversation with Peter
Taylor." Conversation with Peter Taylor. Ed.
McAlexander. Jackson: UP of Mississippi, 1987. 115-28.
Taylor, Peter. "The Captain's Son." In The Miro
District and Other Stories. New York, Knopf, 1977. 3-36.
---. In the Tennessee Country. New York: Knopf,
1994.
---. "The Old Forest." The Old Forest and Other
Stories. New York: Ballantine Books, 1986. 22-82.
---. The Oracle at Stoneleight Court: Stories. New
York: Knopf, 1993.
---. A Summons to Memphis. New York: Ballantiine
Books, 1986.
This web page is maintained by
Border States On-Line is hosted by Georgetown College.
This page was last updated on 5/12/99. | Border States On-Line | Site Map
Dr. Harold D. Tallant, Department of History, Georgetown College
400 East College Street, Georgetown, KY 40324, (502) 863-8075
E-mail: htallant@georgetowncollege.edu