And I daresay I will never forget those words. The man “looked at searchingly” and he said, quietly, “The prayers of all good people are good” (58). In today’s ostensibly bleak sliver of world history-one in which religion and differences of opinion plague global society-this literary moment reigns with clarity and potency. Jim’s grandmother looked “apprehensively at grandfather” being that “he was rather narrow in religious matters, and sometimes spoke out and hurt people’s feelings” (57). Cather uses religion as a vehicle to provide keen observations of personality and being without being overt or forceful.Īs such, to me, the most treasurable part of the novel was Jim’s grandfather’s reaction to Mr. His prayers reflected what he was thinking about at the time, and it was chiefly through them that we got to know his feelings and his views about things” (56). Because he talked so little, his words had a peculiar force they were not worn dull from constant use. He had the gift of simple and moving expression. “Grandfather’s prayers were often very interesting. Some of the value in the novel is gently intertwined with the talk of religion e.g. Religion itself is such a composite topic, and My Ántonia does a remarkable job of avoiding ablution in the pursuit of conveying various authentic Christian perspectives-insightful views that capture both the naiveté and tolerance of children in conjunction with similar behavior from adults. One of the most inspiring ideas in this novel was the portrayal and influence of religion and culture. My Ántonia is a classic, and is known for being such- a romantic novel of incredible merit, a richly winsome prairie story- but to me it was also a reminder of the difference between what we can and cannot have, a story with fundamental analyses of life and human interaction so delicately kneaded into the plot.
I did, however, live in a rural Central Valley town (still do) for a long, monumental phase in my life, and Cather has reminded me that I can touch the “brilliant sky” anytime I want and feel the lick of “burning summers” (1) that so ravenously nipped at the frays of Ántonia’s cotton dress. I did not grow up in a little prairie town.
Willa Cather’s powerful novel offers with each read a freshness and colorful view of life, tolerance, and feminine existence this review by Sangeetha Bharath intends to pay homage to the tale on its 100th anniversary, addressing its delicate complexities without revealing too much of the story.
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