Westfall’s big house had been constructed to flaunt qualities of superiority and family tradition. Above all, it was expected to assure visitors of the affluence and eminence, if not charm, of its owners. With fashionable wallpaper and Belgian carpets, its parlors, though conventional to a fault, were places where social graces abounded for persons of acceptable ancestry. Though the islanders were hardly as fastidious as Charlestonians in this regard, a person of good lineage was respected regardless of his behavior.
Thursday, April 24, 2014
Prologue, WESTFALL
REVISING WESTFALL
Steven Bauer
of Hollow Tree Literary Services has returned my Westfall manuscript with
suggestions for changes. It’s always a tense time between when I send out a
manuscript and when it returns. In the interim, I imagine something like “not
your best work” written in the report, which means trash it and start with
something new. Steven didn’t write that.
I sighed with relief upon seeing his compliments, which made it
easier to read about the changes that are needed. He was underwhelmed with the
opening chapter and suggested, in addition to revisions, that an excerpt be
separated into a prologue. I did this, rewrote it, and took it to the Columbia
II Writers Workshop (a chapter of the South Carolina Writers Workshop) and got
more helpful hints. Here is the rewritten opening to my novel Westfall,
Slave to King Cotton.
PROLOGUE
Westfall
Plantation, a gray-eyed home of destiny, was dual to the core. It was yoked
with the extremes of luxury and poverty. Typical of other plantations on St.
Helena Island, its big house was a showcase of symmetry and elegance. By
contrast, the slave cabins were clapboard hovels with stick and mud chimneys.
Despite the plantation’s polarity, it was slave to the crop that produced both
fortune and depravity—Sea Island Cotton.
The extravagance of the island plantation houses was not to
scale with that of Charleston, or even Beaufort, where old wealth—traders and
ship builders—had erected opulent Georgian mansions. When the owners spoke of
the houses they built, it didn’t occur to them that they had in no way hammered
a peg or sawed a board, labor that had been done by bondsmen, likely negros.
THE
BIG HOUSE
Westfall’s big house had been constructed to flaunt qualities of superiority and family tradition. Above all, it was expected to assure visitors of the affluence and eminence, if not charm, of its owners. With fashionable wallpaper and Belgian carpets, its parlors, though conventional to a fault, were places where social graces abounded for persons of acceptable ancestry. Though the islanders were hardly as fastidious as Charlestonians in this regard, a person of good lineage was respected regardless of his behavior.
Westfall’s big house had been constructed to flaunt qualities of superiority and family tradition. Above all, it was expected to assure visitors of the affluence and eminence, if not charm, of its owners. With fashionable wallpaper and Belgian carpets, its parlors, though conventional to a fault, were places where social graces abounded for persons of acceptable ancestry. Though the islanders were hardly as fastidious as Charlestonians in this regard, a person of good lineage was respected regardless of his behavior.
A practical necessity of refinement included grandiose size
denoted by high ceilings, a foyer big as a ballroom, and more chimneys than
doors. There were island plantations with grander big houses than that of
Westfall, a source of dwindling esteem for its owner.
On some plantations, the slave cabins were located for best
visibility to visitors. The more slaves a man owned the more likely the cabins
were in view, for the single most important factor in defining a man’s wealth
was the number of slaves he owned. However, at Westfall the cabins were placed
at a distance from the avenue of oaks, for the negros were noisy and unwieldy,
traits offensive to gentlefolk.
Tropical storms were common on the island. While the eaves of
the big house whistled and the windows rattled, the cabins quivered and wind
drove through cracks in the walls. Their shutters leaked and families squeezed
together in their cots.
SLAVE
QUARTERS
Living side
by side with the affluent whites were the slaves, kept in squalid habitations
with crude fittings. Such hovels were built to dispossess the inhabitants of
their humanity. Regardless of how long and hard a slave worked, Carolina law
denied him the right to own anything, least of all a house. Slave quarters
contained no homes, just places to stay, no more personal than a camp fire.
Despite the filth and pestilence, the buildings kept out bears,
wild cats, and boars, though the weather was another story. They were cold in
the winter and hot in the summer. Rain dripped through the roof shingles. Smoke
curled inside from the fireplace. Mosquitoes swarmed about the beds of a summer
night.
As devastating as the physical hardship was the emotional one
visited on the slaves by their owners. Without warning, many were sold or hired
out without regard for family ties. The cabins became home to a lost ancestry.
Notwithstanding the transiency imposed on the quarters, a
heritage survived. The slaves spoke an English-based Creole language known as
Gullah, which contained African words. The older generation taught the young
and kept alive their Gullah customs with stories, religion, music, cooking and
farming traditions that were derived from West and Central Africa.
The stately big house and abject cabins served the purpose of
the owner. It reserved to him a sense of racial superiority and guaranteed
classes of inescapable order. Except for the creatures wandering the yard—the
rodents, dogs, squirrels, ducks, geese, and guineas—Westfall’s population was
encumbered with the past.
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I can't tell you how much I am looking forward to this next novel. I am a campaign worker from Virginia and happened to walk into the Red Piano Too when I was working on the island last May when I saw "Kedzie". I didn't have the funds to pick it up and the gifts I was purchasing for my family back home, but I bought it on Amazon about a week later. I was hooked. I then bought "Master" and loved it just as much. I was extremely happy when "Sonny" came out not long after. I'm back in SC working on another race, but based in Rock Hill. I tell all of my volunteers about the series! Just wanted to let you know you have big fan here!
ReplyDeleteMatt, Thank you for your encouraging comment. And I appreciate your spreading the word about my novels.
ReplyDeleteBonnie Stanard