Great Plains Studies, Center for
Date of this Version
Fall 2003
Document Type
Article
Abstract
What happens when humans move beyond the boundaries of civilization? Does the very act transform them? How do they define themselves in apparently empty space? Throughout the nineteenth century, thousands of Americans headed west to the frontier, the borderland between civilization and wilderness. Most went willingly, confident or desperately hopeful that they would have the freedom to create a place of their own and, in the process, recreate themselves. Before they set out for the frontier, they imagined it a garden, based on the myths of plenty and entitlement that were described in boosters’ letters, newspaper accounts, railroad brochures, and the hyperbole of hope. Not all went willingly, however. Some followed reluctantly, fearing that in such an unsettled space they would themselves be transformed into bestial figures, detached from their pasts and left without culture or society to replace familiar habits and rituals. Many, their hopes faded or their fears confirmed, headed back to the more familiar East. This continuous ebb and flow is one of the central themes of Great Plains literature. Since Hamlin Garland began to write his stories of Iowa and Dakota farmers, authors have explored the effects wrought by people who transformed much of the grasslands into cash crops and the impact that the place itself had on these new arrivals.
Comments
Published in Great Plains Quarterly 23 (Fall 2003), pp. 245-259. Copyright © 2003 Center for Great Plains Studies, University of Nebraska–Lincoln.