Naomi spent her early years surrounded by the Babson Farm
which was no longer cultivated by the family. Her father Frederick was the
great-grandson of David Wallis Babson and grandson of Horatio Babson. Frederick
attended Colby College in Maine but was called home upon the illness of his
father to help operate the family business in Pigeon Cove, the David Babson
Fish Company.1 The names and occupations in this lineage, somewhat
re-ordered, figure centrally in the novel.
Miss Babson taught school locally from 1913 to 1920 before entering
Radcliffe College. She left "at the end of two years in Cambridge, when my
money and my simple faith in a college education gave out."2 She
went to China as a teacher of the children of staff members at Lingan
University, Canton, where she met her husband Paul Grieder. After the death of
their first child in 1933 the Grieders returned to the United States. All these
experiences gave Naomi the time, distance, and perhaps the heavy heart to
compose The Yankee Bodleys. The book
struck Cape Anners as a tell-all view of family secrets and dissolution.
Naomi herself grew up across the street from the Babson homestead, on one of the properties granted or sold from the original estate to launch new family households. This nuclearization of the land along the western side of Granite Street prefigured a pattern in the book. Over the later decades of the nineteenth century the aura of the 'manor house' brightened then dimmed according to the fortunes, and the cohesion, of the owners.
The author places her story in the desiccating patrimony of
Horatio Bodley during a time span equivalent to the second generation of
Babsons at Halibut Point. Horatio marries Adelia in 1834. Their lives, as well
as the those of their seven children and very few grandchildren, form the
threads of the book. Their tensions and contradictions remind the reader of
Jane Austen's characters searching for position in Pride and Prejudice.
Jessica wore the green
satin dress made the summer before by Angie Sparrow's rapid needle. A gown the
color of a wave as it curls to break, with a ruffle of lace like a ruffle of
foam round Jessica's white shoulders. Her hair was pinned in a high knot--a style
new to her, and very becoming. She was thirty years old, and had never been
more beautiful; her charm was self-assured and in some sort virginal. Jessica
had not spent herself; her loveliness was cold and perfect, as if it had been
preserved on ice. She sat now half turned from the stove; her hands stretched
out to the warmth of glowing coals, but her eyes were on Wilfred who was at the
table, drinking port. They were engaged in the unending quarrel which had
lasted since the summer, the quarrel over Wilfred's future.
Granite Street unites the geography of the Bodley world from
Folly Cove to Handsome (Pigeon) Cove. Beyond these bounds it links vaguely to Crownport
(Rockport) in one direction and Ancester (Gloucester) in the other. The roadway
aggrandizes from dust to trolley tracks to pavement as the Bodleys, conversely,
falter and disperse.
Naomi Lane Babson, 1936 |
Jessica, the proudest, opens the story reminiscing over a
family photograph after all the others have passed on. At the end she boards a
bus to attend the reopening as a Community Center of the old Universalist
Church that Horatio helped to build for her wedding. She arrives in her black
silk dress with its chiffon ruching that
she always wore for best, fixing side-combs set with brilliants in hair that
was still abundant. Jessica looked an old woman now, but she did not look
eighty-five. She stood tall and straight; she held up her chin, and her eyes
could flash with anger or amusement; beauty had fled but its reflection
lingered like the pale afterglow of a sunset on the bay.
There is no one present to appreciate the stained glass
windows donated by Horatio Bodley. In Jessica's mind the little girls
performing in skimpy costumes on stage profane the sanctity of another era. She
swings her ivory-knobbed umbrella at a window overhead to smash a little white
lamb in its ruby circle.
Jessica walks home alone, lights the stove, singing as she
works and dreaming of a party. She had
seen, beyond the shattered glass and the rows of startled faces turning toward
her, an unforgotten splendor shining: she was Jessica Bodley, belle of the
Cove, handsome, young and fearless....
Sources
1. Ann Theopold
Chaplin, The Babson Genealogy: 1606-1997.
2. Letter to her mother, March 4, 1936, courtesy of the
Howard Gottlieb Archival Research Center, Boston University.
The Howard Gottlieb Archival Research Center, Boston University |
Beautifully written account of my special great-aunt. Thank you- Elizabeth Babson Bittle Eubanks
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