Letter to the Warden

Dear Prison Warden Cline,

After extended sessions with a visiting Baptist preacher, I've been convinced to share my concerns with the ultimate authority in this dismal world of text and nuance.  Some might find it remarkable that an atheist heeded spiritual advice from a man of the cloth, but after eight weeks of torture, I'm willing to listen to anyone.

I have always taken great pride in my writing ability and reading comprehension, but you, mistress, have poked enough holes in my windy compositions to deflate a hot air balloon.  While I can easily see the logic in such scrutiny and criticism, and heed the knowledge imparted, I can't help but feel that my lofty position on the mountain has been humbled.  I am now clinging precariously on the side, near the top, scrambling for a better position, and for that, I curse and thank you, ma'am.

The books required of this course have been, shall we say, enlightening?  Grim?  Odd?  While I thoroughly enjoyed the writing ability of Woodrell, his world in the Ozarks is one I can honestly say I will never visit.  Kirn has me gritting my teeth, wanting to fling the book across the room.  I can't say I enjoy his style of writing at all, but I will perservere, good Warden, to avoid the stinging lash of the F whip.

My greatest weakness in the literary world has been citation, and considering my ultimate goal of Psychologist, this is a weakness that must be remedied.  But, curse you thrice over, dear Warden, I must learn two format styles:  MLA and APA.  The Aegean stables were an easier task for Hercules than cramming the plethora of literary styles and citations into this poor, enfeebled mind of a middle-aged father of three!  However, I must confess, your tutelage in this matter has been exemplary, and I humbly bow before you.

I can analyze effectively, good lady, and write eloquently, if I may be so immodest, but even the best writer can falter abysmally, and we must never think ourselves above reproach.  You, dear Warden, are skilled, educated, and trained by experience to take a seed and enable it to blossom, and I must be completely candid:  you have used excellent fertilizer.  It may not waft a beautiful scent, but it does fortify the soul, and for that, I thank you, dear Warden.

I will endeavor to be far less serious and sober in my literary reflections in the second half of my prison term.

Respectfully Yours,

James Carr
Prisoner 863009

Woodrell's Women

I didn't feel good about this essay at all.  I just couldn't wrap my mind around it.  I guess I'm just off this time.  Hack away, mates.

James

Ruthless Grit:

The Women of Winter’s Bone

            Daniel Woodrell’s Winter’s Bone flails a reader’s soul with many hard truths about life in the Ozarks of Missouri.  The abject poverty that is simply a part of life for the Ozark inhabitants, the insidious hold of the meth drug culture that twines through the tough fabric of these hills and hollers, the old-world dominance of men in this harshly patriarchal society…all of these elements grab the reader and throttle us out of our complacent and soft view of the world.  The most powerful theme throughout the novel, however, is the gritty and vast array of Ozark women, tenaciously surviving a harsh, cold, and deprived community controlled by gun-toting, drug-abusing men.  Within Ree’s traumatic struggles and horrific journey through hills and family blood, Woodrell weaves a strong criticism of male dominance and abuse, interspersed with generous dollops of praise for the women who suffer through such a society.  The circumstances are mean, and the women are meaner, but in their tenacity we get a glimpse of their heroic battle for survival in severe and unforgiving circumstances.

            Woodrell’s depiction of the Ozark communities is frighteningly accurate.  According to Brian Fogle, President of the Community Foundation of the Ozarks, they have “more children living under the poverty line than we have in history.  Child abuse and neglect have been a stubborn problem for our community,” (qtd in Scherder).  Child abuse reports have seen a 33% jump since 2008 (Scherder).  Missouri has consistently ranked in the top three states for meth lab seizures in the past ten years, recently seeing a 53% climb in meth lab incidents involving law enforcement (lakenewsonline.com).  CADV/VOC, a nonprofit organization that provides a domestic violence shelter in the Ozarks area, as well as advocacy, crisis intervention, and support for domestic abuse victims has reported a recent 33% increase in domestic violence reports in three counties (Burger).  One of the shelters was full for five months straight, unfortunately forcing the group to turn some victims away for lack of space.

            Within this fearsome morass of suffering reside the women of Winter’s Bone, coping with resilient strength and stubborn wit.  Ree Dolly, a hard 16-year-old with a catatonic mother, two younger brothers, and a missing father, epitomizes the competent intensity of Woodrell’s women.  Despite everything working against her, she refuses to surrender to circumstance.  As Woodrell himself notes, “Her father is out on bail, but he's disappeared.  She will lose her home if she doesn't find him.  She's already shouldering the burdens of taking care of her younger brothers.  And nobody seems willing to help her.  She gets beaten up pretty bad for her efforts.  But she's never self-pitying” (Tibbets, pg. 31).  Even at the tender age of sixteen, Ree Dolly has learned the rules of survival in the Ozarks.

            Nor does Ree flinch from even the most horrible of events:  carving her father’s hands from his body, as proof to the law that he is really dead and gone.  With emotions nearly overwhelming her senses, she manages to find just enough strength to get the job done.  “She was on a distant tranquil shore where rainbow-colored birds sang and coconuts dropped bountifully to warm sand.  The smoke and rattle, his other hand coming free, the return walk to the car a blur” (Woodrell, pg. 186).  During the act, she retreats to the echoes of her beach, her soothing sanctuary of sounds from a left-behind tape, The Sounds of Tranquil Shores, transformed into a melody in her mind, allowing her to perform the unthinkable.  It is a measure of fortitude that many women in America couldn’t even imagine, much less accomplish.

            Nor is Ree Dolly unique in these Ozarks, although her approach to the circumstances sets the stage for the novel.  Against the backdrop of relatively colorless men, the women of Winter’s Bone make their presence known to the reader.  The other women, ranging from her friend Gail to the formidable Merab, also exhibit this tenacious ability to survive in the Ozarks, despite the abuse and poverty, tapping reservoirs of vitality that keep life from slipping away.  Protecting their own, Merab and her sisters lay into Ree with a vengeance, and yet, they are the ones that ultimately lead Ree to her father.  Gail’s friendship with Ree is powerfully sustaining and touching, and Gail demonstrates her own form of strength by leaving her controlling husband for a brief spell while she helps Ree.

            Woodrell’s depiction of Ree’s struggles holds a strong element of criticism for male-dominated societal norms.  Woodrell holds nothing back in his portrayal of the Ozark women, struggling with poverty and frequent abuse.  It is an “implicit feminist narrative,” and it “critiques the insidious and complex ways females are framed first and foremost as objects for male use and abuse” (Wilson).  Ree’s drug-induced rape by Little Arthur is a clear example of this type of abuse, and Ree’s deliberate nonchalance about the act makes it seem like business as normal (Woodrell, pgs. 54-55).  Thump Milton’s refusal to talk to Ree simply because she’s a woman is a scornful, gender-based dismissal (Woodrell, pg. 60).  The second-class status of Megan, Merab, and Thump Milton’s woman, almost as adjutants to the Master, typify the patriarchal style, a culture that none of the women outwardly rail against.  But even the submissiveness belies a burning desire for something better, as Megan demonstrates while walking Ree out the door:  “It’s been this way with our people forever, goddam it.  For-fuckin’-ever.” (Woodrell, pg. 57).  These are strong, complex women that have learned the code of conduct and accept it, not always with good grace.

            Ree’s mother seems to be a constant reminder of the failure of strength, of surrendering to the madness.  She is the only woman in the story that shows any real weakness at all, and Ree angrily makes it very clear that she will never succumb to circumstance like her mother did (Woodrell, pg. 147).  Lost in her kaleidoscope of past memories and vague impressions of the present, Ree’s mother was the antithesis of the other Ozark women.  They treated her mental illness with contempt, flavored in equal measures by amusement and pity, but underneath their hardened shell of Ozark roughness seemed to be a quiet sense of fear, not for themselves but for the possibility of losing, of giving up and allowing life to beat them down.  The women respected Ree’s mother for who she was, and scorned who she had become.  Comparing Ree to her mother was possibly the worst insult they could hurl at Ree, and she went to great pains to distance herself from her mother’s mental collapse, demonstrating her mental and physical toughness by tracking her father and teaching her brothers how to survive and navigate within the Ozark community.

            It is bleak and unforgiving, but Winter’s Bone is also a tribute to women’s survival in a patriarchal society that thinks nothing of battered wives, neglected children, drug abuse, or even murder of kin.  It is a collision of gender, abuse, poverty, and honor, and Woodrell manages to splash a remarkable mix of reproach and praise for the society born of this clash.  Ree Dolly’s journey is worthy of respect for many reasons, not least of which is her determination to challenge the male-dominated norms of her world.  The women of Winter’s Bone are stubborn, tenacious, and frequently mean-spirited, but above all, they are survivors.

Works Cited

Woodrell, Daniel.  Winter’s Bone.  New York.  Little, Brown and Company, 2006.  Print.

Burger, Rance.  “Help From The State:  Report Aims To Help Domestic Violence Victims.” 

            LakeNewsOnline.com.  February 15, 2011.  Web.  March 23, 2012.

Author unknown.  “Missouri Remains In Top 3 State For Meth Lab Seizures.” 

            LakeNewsOnline.com.  March 4, 2011.  Web.  March 23, 2012.

Tibbetts, John.  "Riddles Across The Sky: Daniel Woodrell Talks About Winter’s Bone.” 

            Literature/Film Quarterly 39.1.  (2011):  30-38.

Scherder, Jay.  “Greene County Community Focus Report:  Child Abuse And Poverty Surge.” 

            KY3.com.  October 4, 2011.  Web.  March 23, 2012.

Wilson, Natalie.  “Chilling Truths In Winter’s Bone.”  Ms Magazine.blog.  August 3, 2010. 

            Web.  March 23, 2012.

Tough Circumstances, Tough Women

The Winter's Bone was an extremely illuminating novel in many ways for me, particularly the drug culture permeating the community, despite the abject poverty.  But I found the depiction of women in the story even more profound.  The men were generally faceless vanilla incarnations of gun-toting patriarchs, other than the colorful Teardrop and missing Jessup, but the women encompassed a range of personalities, all hardened in some fashion by the Ozark culture and individual circumstance.

These weren't milksop crybabies pining for their man.  These women could have done two tours in Vietnam and never blinked.

It was a challenge to find an article that focused on the female aspects of Winter's Bone, especially considering all the hoopla over the film adaptation that came out two years ago.  But I finally managed to track down an article that seemed to fit the bill:

http://msmagazine.com/blog/blog/2010/08/03/chilling-truths-in-winter%e2%80%99s-bone/

This blog essay actually begins as a film review of Winter's Bone, but the author, Natalie Wilson of Ms. Magazine, quickly turns to the prevalent theme of strong women throughout the movie.  The film would appear to follow Woodrell's depiction of women, even down to the dialogue used in the story.  Wilson discusses the "extraordinary portrait of the ways class and gender intersect, revealing how the patriarchal Dolly clan abuses not only drugs, but also its female family members," and praises the women of the Ozarks of Woodrell's literary work for their unremitting strength of purpose, if not character.  Wilson laments that the feminist narrative is frequently overlooked by modern reviewers who seem to prefer to focus upon the misery of poverty and the insidious grip of meth on the Winter's Bone communities.

At first glance, I almost kept searching for further articles, because this one was clearly a film review.  However, the author's emphasis on the female aspect of Winter's Bone resonated with my own interpretations.  While Wilson delved into the feminist facet of the film and I find myself drawn to the implicit strength in each woman of the story, we both seem to share an attaction for the female characters and their interactions within the male-dominated rural community of the Ozarks.  This article could be a good starting point for a paper discussing the various aspects of the female presence in Woodrell's Ozark community, a presence that perhaps didn't dominate, but nonetheless heavily influenced the world of Ree Dolly.


Wilson, Natalie.  "Chilling Truths In Winter's Bone."  Ms. Magazine.com, August 3, 2010.  Web.  March 7, 2012.