Character Clues
Character Analysis
Direct Characterization
As we discuss in "Narrator Point of View," the narrator in O Pioneers! is a very real presence, who gives us a whole lot of direct characterization. In the case of someone like Alexandra, for example, almost everything we can say about her is a result of the narrator telling us so. We very rarely see her in the act of doing anything; mostly, we see her in conversation, or lost in thought.
Take this passage, for instance. In Alexandra's "Character Analysis," we get a lot of mileage out of the narrator's metaphor of the "underground river," used to describe Alexandra's hidden personal life. However, this form of direct characterization doesn't only inform our analysis of Alexandra; it also puts up a veil of secrecy around her. Check it out:
[Alexandra's] personal life, her own realization of herself, was almost a subconscious existence; like an underground river that came to the surface only here and there, at intervals months apart, and then sank again to flow on under her own fields. Nevertheless, the underground stream was there, and it was because she had so much personality to put into her enterprises and succeeded in putting it into them so completely, that her affairs prospered better than those of her neighbors. (3.2.1)
Here, the narrator fills in a lot of gaps for us, but also leaves some things vague. Okay, so her "personal life" is like an "underground river," but what exactly does occupy Alexandra on the most personal levels? The narrator lets us put that one together for ourselves.
Another character who is often the recipient of direct characterization is Marie. In the following passage, very little actually happens in real time. Most of it is occupied with the narrator's observations and explanations:
[Marie] didn't mind showing her embarrassment at all. She blushed and laughed excitedly as she gave Emil her hand, and looked delightedly at the black velvet coat that brought out his fair skin and fine blond head. Marie was incapable of being lukewarm about anything that pleased her. She simply did not know how to give a half-hearted response. When she was delighted, she was as likely as not to stand on her tip-toes and clap her hands. If people laughed at her, she laughed with them. (4.1.12)
Basically, Marie is just admiring Carl and his fancy new outfit from Mexico. But we get so much more than that, in the form of direct characterization. Instead of just one image of what's happening in the present, we get multiple images that give us a very rich impression of Marie in this moment.
Clothing
The narrator in O Pioneers! often pays close attention to the clothing worn by the novel's characters. For one, in such a stark and simple setting as the Divide, a fancy outfit definitely makes a splash. Whether it's Annie Lou Bergson's high-heeled boots (see II, iii, 3), Emil's Mexican outfit, the Bohemian dress Marie wears to the Catholic fair, or the "Kate Greenaway" outfit Marie wears as a child (check out "Shout Outs," for more), it's clear that dressing up is a big deal in this world.
One instance in which clothing plays a slightly different role is in the narrator's first descriptions of a young Alexandra. Here, Alexandra's choice of clothing is one example of gender-bending in the novel. Take a look:
She wore a man's long ulster (not as if it were an affliction, but as if it were very comfortable and belonged to her; carried it like a young soldier), and a round plush cap, tied down with a thick veil. (1.1.3)
For more on this, check out our "Character Analysis" for Alexandra.
Personification
The narrator in O Pioneers! is a big fan of personification, especially when it's time to describe or portray the Divide. We might as well start with the best example:
For the first time, perhaps, since that land emerged from the waters of geologic ages, a human face was set toward it with love and yearning. It seemed beautiful to her, rich and strong and glorious. Her eyes drank in the breadth of it, until her tears blinded her. Then the Genius of the Divide, the great, free spirit which breathes across it, must have bent lower than it ever bent to a human will before. The history of every country begins in the heart of a man or a woman. (1.5.3)
Here, it's as if the Divide comes to life—"bending" itself low to Alexandra's will. The narrator's description of the Divide's "Genius," as a "great, free spirit" gives us the impression that the Divide is a living being, not just a place. It might not be a human being, in fact, it sounds more like a superhuman or a god, but the Divide is definitely personified in this passage.
In Alexandra's "Character Analysis," we also look at the way her (sexual) fantasy of a figure "yellow like the sunlight" is possibly a personification of the Divide (3.2.4). For the full scoop, go check out that section.
Social Status
Here's a heads-up: we have a lot more to say about class and social status in "Theme: Society and Class." For now, we'll give you a quick run-down about the different ways social status is used to depict certain character traits in O Pioneers!
Let's start with Mrs. Bergson, a minor character who's out of the picture by Part 2 of the novel. The narrator comes right out and tells us that her husband is of a higher class than she is (see Part 1, Chapter 2). But more importantly, this gives us some insight into her character.
Mrs. Bergson is portrayed as a woman who never quite let go of the Old World. Her entire existence is dedicated to preserving all her old ways:
[Mrs. Bergson] had never quite forgiven John Bergson for bringing her to the end of the earth; but, now that she was there, she wanted to be let alone to reconstruct her old life in so far as that was possible. (1.2.23)
Well, that "old life" includes a certain social status that she received by marrying her husband. The narrator doesn't fail to note the way Mrs. Bergson looks down on the other housewives on the Divide, finding their housework "slovenly," and the way someone like old Mrs. Lee fears Mrs. Bergson will "catch her barefoot." All this adds to the sense that moving to the "New World" doesn't mean all those old social markers lose their importance.
Alexandra, for her part, understands the importance of maintaining the appearance of a respectable home, which befits her economic success. She understands it, but doesn't care much about it. Take a look:
Alexandra had put herself in the hands of the Hanover furniture dealer, and he had conscientiously done his best to make her dining-room look like his display window. She said frankly that she knew nothing about such things, and she was willing to be governed by the general conviction that the more useless and utterly unusable objects were, the greater their virtue as ornament. (2.3.1)
This passage makes it obvious that Alexandra sees right through "general convictions" about the importance of decorating and keeping up appearances. All the same, though, she plays along.
Things start to get dicey for Alexandra when she decides to let Ivar live in her barn. Since it's rumored he's "crazy," a certain amount of his eccentricity starts to attach to Alexandra's image. Someone like Annie Lou Bergson, whose gaudy clothing demonstrates an attempt to appear well-off (see "Characterization: Clothing"), finds it necessary to point this out to Alexandra:
"But don't you sort of hate to have people see him around here, Alexandra?" she went on with persuasive smoothness. "He is a disgraceful object, and you're fixed up so nice now. It sort of makes people distant with you, when they never know when they'll hear him scratching about. […]" (2.3.11)
A person like Annie Lee just can't understand why Alexandra would risk her reputation—and make people "distant" with her—by bringing in someone like Ivar. Though Alexandra respects the necessity to keep up certain appearances, she's definitely not willing to sacrifice on her principles. Needless to say, Ivar stays.
Finally, Frank Shabata is a character for whom social standing is almost all-important. We just can't start to understand his character if we don't think about his tremendous fall from grace—from a frontier dandy impressing all the ladies, to a poor farmer on the Divide, and finally, to a prisoner serving ten years. For more on Frank, head over to his "Character Analysis."
Speech and Dialogue
We're not going to lie: there's not a huge variation in the way the characters in O Pioneers! talk. Which is interesting for a novel in which all the characters are first or second generation immigrants. With one or two exceptions, we never know whether characters are speaking in English, or in another language (presumably Swedish). In this case, a choice was made to avoid portraying any accents or otherwise indicate switching between languages.
Well, that is true, except for people like Old Mrs. Lee, or Frank Shabata. In the first case, the accent helps portray Old Mrs. Lee as a remnant of the Old World—as not quite as able or willing to approximate the Standard American. In Frank's case, though, it's less obvious why his accent is portrayed.
What is clear, though, is that Frank's English deteriorates dramatically when he's in prison. And in that context, the difficulty he has expressing himself seems to highlight his tragic situation—to make him seem all the more incoherent and disturbed. Take a look:
Frank smiled at her queerly. His eyes filled slowly with tears. "You know, I most forgit dat woman's name. She ain't got no name for me no more. I never hate my wife, but dat woman what make me do dat—Honest to God, but I hate her! I no man to fight. I don' want to kill no boy and no woman. I not care how many men she take under dat tree. I no care for not'ing but date fine boy I kill, Alexandra Bergson. I guess I go crazy sure 'nough." (5.2.33)
Here, Frank's difficulty expressing himself adds to the sense that he's caught up in a situation that he doesn't quite belong in. He seems foreign. We fully understand when he later says he wants to leave the country and go home:
Frank looked at her distrustfully, but he gathered confidence from her face. "Alexandra," he said earnestly, "if I git out-a here, I not trouble dis country no more. I go back where I come from; see my mother." (5.2.35)
In this case, the portrayal of Frank's foreignness seems designed to help lessen his guilt. But think about it: how might it be different if Frank were able to fluently communicate his regret?