A number of lanky boys of all ages appeared as suddenly and slimily as eels wakened by the crack of thunder; some came from the waiting-room, where they had been The sculptor s funeral willa cather themselves by the red stove, or half asleep on the slat benches; others uncoiled themselves from baggage trucks or slid out of express wagons.
I have a suspicion that Willa Cather and Ralph Moody could have grown up in the same town, among the same people, and said the same things. Philip Phelps, the banker, responded with dignity: Steavens tries to see some evidence of kinship between her and his idol, but he is appalled by her look of violence and fierce passion, as well as by the power she wields over everyone around her.
With a shudder of disgust, the lawyer went into the dining-room and closed the door into the kitchen.
The group of men behind him hesitated, glanced questioningly at one another, and awkwardly followed his example. The sculptor's splendid head seemed even more noble in its rigid stillness than in life. The entire section is words. The lawyer closed the door gently behind him, leaned back against it, and folded his arms, cocking his head a little to one side.
The spare man shuffled back to the uneasy group. In a moment the red glare from the headlight streamed View Image of Page up the snow-covered track before the siding and glittered on the wet, black rails. It's not for me to say why, in the inscrutable wisdom of God, a genius should ever have been called from this place of hatred and bitter waters; but I want this Boston man to know that the drivel he's been hearing here to-night is the only tribute any truly great man could ever have from such a lot of sick, side-tracked, burnt-dog, land-poor sharks as the here-present financiers of Sand View Image of Page City—upon which town may God have mercy!
Feeble steps were heard on the stairs, and an old man, tall and frail, odorous of pipe smoke, with shaggy, unkempt gray hair and a dingy beard, tobacco-stained about the mouth, entered uncertainly.
Steavens is equally appalled by the cheap vulgarity of taste that is everywhere apparent in the decor of the house and can scarcely believe that Merrick could ever have had any connection with this place.
Merrick was able to achieve his vision, it is implied, only because he never returned to Sand City. I read My Antonia in school and so read this short but I do not care for the author personally so, done!
We were dead in earnest, and we wanted you all to be proud of us some day.
And without, the frontier warfare; the yearning of a boy, cast ashore upon a desert of newness and ugliness and sordidness, for all that is chastened and old, and noble with traditions. Presently he was approached by a tall, spare, grizzled man clad in a faded Grand Army suit, who shuffled out from the group and advanced with a certain deference, craning his neck forward until his back made the angle of a jack-knife three-quarters open.
There they find Henry Steavens, a young apprentice of Merrick, who has traveled from the East with the coffin. He killed a cow of mine that-a-way onct—a pure Jersey and the best milker I had, an' the ole man had to put up for her. Two clambered down from the driver's seat of a hearse that stood backed up against the siding.
Steavens, impressed by the tender and delicate modelling of the thin, tired face, had asked him if it were his mother. We meant to be great men.
At his age nothing cuts very deep," remarked the lawyer. Well, we can all remember the very tone in which brother Elder swore his own father was a liar, in the county court; and we all know that the old man came out of that partnership with his son as bare as a sheared lamb.
He did not even glance toward the coffin, but continued to look at her with a dull, frightened, appealing expression, as a spaniel looks at the whip. It might almost seem to a stranger that there was some way something the matter with your progressive town.
The lawyer was sitting in a rocking-chair beside the coffin, his head thrown back and his eyes closed.The sculptor's splendid head seemed even more noble in its rigid stillness than in life.
The dark hair had crept down upon the wide forehead; the face seemed strangely long, but in it there was not that beautiful and chaste repose which we expect to find in the faces of the dead. "The Sculptor's Funeral" is a short story by Willa Cather.
It was first published in McClure's in Plot summary In a small-town Kansas, the body of Harvey Merrick, a famed sculptor, is brought back to his parents' house.
Only Jim Laird, Harvey's old friend, and Henry Steavens, his student have any real emotion. Harvey Merrick was a great sculptor. I was one of his students. He was highly respected in the world of art.
[Pause.] BANKER PHELPS: Where the old man made his mistake. The Sculptor's Funeral. by Willa Cather.
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Complete summary of Willa Cather's The Sculptor's Funeral. eNotes plot summaries cover all the significant action of The Sculptor's Funeral. Apr 22, · The Sculptor's Funeral has 80 ratings and 8 reviews. Cynthia said: In Scultor Cather does what she does so well, write about the interplay of a creative /5.Download