220Notes that the story is told years after the convalescence in Italy, but he too fails to develop the implications of this fact. See Sheridan Baker, Ernest Hemingway: An Introduction and Interpretation (New York, 1967), p. 33. "'All references to "Now I Lay Me" are from Ernest Hemingway, The Short Stories of Ernest Hemingway (New York, 1953). AU page numbers cited in the text refer to this edition. 6It is possible that the fourth paragraph does fit the general pattern established by previous paragraphs and maintained by subsequent ones, but that it does so somewhat less obviously than other paragraphs. The fourth paragraph begins pleasantly; its ending, however, is ambiguous: "Some nights too," Nick explains, "1 made up streams, and some of them were very exciting, and it was likebeing awake and dreaming. Some of those streams I still remember and think that I have fished in them, and they are confused with streams I really know. I gave them all names and went to them on the train and sometimes walked for miles to get to them." As Hovey suggests, Nick's confusion of streams he made up with streams he really fished may indicate "something compulsive, sickly" about Nick's mental state. See Hovey, p. 74. ATTENTION, AMERICAN FOLKLORE: DOC CRAFT COMES MARCHING IN Rosemary M. Laughlin Parkland College In the spring of 1969 James Alan McPherson's first book was published— a collection of short stories entitled Hueand Cry. Severalof the stories had appeared previously in The Atlantic and one of them, "Gold Coast," had won that magazine's fiction prize for 1968. The critical reaction was a writer's dream for a first book—almost unanimously approving and enthusiastic. Understandably, the publishers chose to quote Ralph Ellison's evaluation on the jacket of the paperback edition which followed in 1970: With this collection of stories, McPherson promises to move right past those talented but misguided writers of Negro American cultural background who take being black as a privilege forbeing obscenely second-rate and who regard their social predicament as Negroes as exempting them from the necessity of mastering the craft and forms of fiction. . . . McPherson ... isa writer of insight, sympathy, and humor, and one of the most gifted young Americans I've had the privilege to read.1 Several of the reviewers noted that their favorite in the collection was "A Solo Song: For Doc," brilliant, as one observed, for its "fusion of reportage, thematic drama and manly lyricism that seems to be Studies in American Fiction221 unforgettable."2 This evaluation is certainly merited, but the story is most remarkable in that it brings to light an American folkloric hero whose time for recognition has come at last. Doc Craft qualifies as hero both in the general tradition of folklore and in specifically American fashion. Present in his story are the elements of legend and reality, of characters that are both comic and tragic, of situations and scenes that are typically and often uniquely American, and of narrative that records an oral telling that justifies, with its rhythmic patterns of words and phrases the "song" in the title. The fable itself does not focus on a hero of the epic or warrior type nor on one who achieves notoriety by a single deed. He belongs rather with the occupational heroes, the work giants of American folklore: John Henry the Steel-Driving Man, Casey Jones the Brave Engineer, Paul Bunyan the Giant Lumberjack, and Joe Magarac the Steel Maker, to mention a few of the better known. Indeed, like John Henry and Casey Jones, Doc Craft works for the railroad. He is a black dining car waiter and his great drive is to distinguish himself by doing a superlative job of what he must do: "the service." And this he does, with the flair, expertise, and genius that make him an idol and hero to his fellow workers even in his own time. As the narrator, one of those fellow waiters, recounts Doc's story to a young waiter (several years after Doc's death at the age of 73 in 1965), he makes us aware that this time is also the death hour of railway passenger...
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