Mining is a frequent theme in early frontier fiction, though few writers
actually take us into the mines, where the work is done. One notable exception
is Mary Hallock Foote’s The Led-Horse
Claim (1883). Though miners were fiercely superstitious about women in
mines and the bad luck their presence there foretold, Foote sends her female
protagonist below ground, to experience a netherworld of darkness and isolation
where men toil in the dangerous extraction of gold, silver, or copper.
More common are stories about mining communities and their social life
centering on a favorite saloon or among the wives of the miners. Two novels, A.
B. Ward’s The Sage Brush Parson (1906) and Mrs. Wilson Woodrow’s The New Missioner (1907) recount the
affairs of clergy in their midst.
For vicarious experience of blasting a way through a mountain, you have
to turn to Frederick Ritchie Bechdolt’s The
Hard Rock Man (1910), which gives a thrilling account of constructing a
railway tunnel. It portrays not only the danger of collapsing rock and working
with dynamite but the camaraderie and rivalries that grow among the men.
Illustration, The Led-Horse Claim |
Plot. Blend all of
these threads and mix in some of Michael Cimino’s The Deer Hunter, and you have something close to Barbara Angle’s
autobiographical coal mining novel, set in modern-day West Virginia. It tells
the story of Portia Crowe, from her years as the young daughter of a coalminer
to her adulthood, when as a minister’s wife and holder of a college degree, she
takes a job in the mines as one of the first women to work below ground for the
mining company that is the town’s chief employer.
It is the 1980s. A lot has
happened since the turn of the century. For one thing, mineworkers are now
unionized. The work is mechanized, better paid, and marginally safer, while
accidents still take lives, and coal dust still blackens lungs. One thing that
has not changed, however, is the prejudice against women. Portia is harassed by
the men she works with and the novel’s faithful recording of unrelenting verbal
abuse directed to her is graphically sexual.
All attempts to break through her tough exterior, however, are in vain.
She perseveres and overcomes even a major error in judgment—inviting a sexual liaison
with one of the mine’s foremen, which results in a pregnancy. By novel’s end,
she might still have been working in the mine, but she is injured in an
accident that nearly costs her an arm.
Mantrip entering coal mine, West Virginia |
Themes. This is a
high-powered novel, a jolt of realism that vividly captures the lives of coal
mining families who depend on the uneasy relationship between the mine owners
and the union to keep the paychecks coming that put food on the table. This
simmering distrust filters into the town bar where men excoriate their
employers while drinking up a share of their wages. And it finds its way into
their homes, where a father and son may have heated differences over the effectiveness
of violence and strikes to get concessions from the mine owners.
Angle also offers an unforgiving portrayal of growing up female in such
a community, where the lives of both men and women are ground down by lack of
opportunity, blighted living conditions, and the demands of hard physical labor.
All this adversity, as Angle describes it, is met by a fierce pride in oneself
and one’s family that refuses to be subdued or pitied.
West Virginia coal miner |
Men. Though a story
about a woman—and a determined, independent one at that—the novel devotes much
of its attention to the men in her life. From almost the start there are the
begrimed men with callused hands who gather after their shift at a tavern in
town, a rough drunken environment where she hears coarse talk and Rabelaisian
humor. In the book’s final sections, they become the fellow miners who attempt
to break her spirit and drive her from her job.
The tenderest chapter in the novel describes the relationship between Portia
and her father, who is later killed in a mining accident. The loss of his greathearted
presence and his gentle humor leaves an aching hole at the center of the novel.
Other men in her life are the boy she falls hopelessly in love with in high
school, the mining shift foreman who loves her and leaves her, and her
coalminer grandfather, tough as old leather until the last hours on his
deathbed.
Those That
Mattered is currently available at amazon, Barnes&Noble, and AbeBooks. For
more of Friday’s Forgotten Books, click on over to Patti Abbott’s blog.
Further
reading/viewing:
Image credits:
Wikimedia Commons
Coming up: The Sons of Katie Elder (1965)
This does sound like an interesting book.
ReplyDeleteI'm working on a western with a mining aspect and it's taking me quite a long while to learn enough about it. Not very familiar with the whole enterprise
ReplyDeleteSome of the young females left the mining town life behind during WWII and later, finding themselves in Norfolk, VA, serving beer to the many sailors and some of them nabbed onto a swabby and got married. This book may explain part of that. After that remark, I never knew that females were becoming miners and can see where the men would object.
ReplyDeleteI believe it was Equal Opportunity laws that opened the doors for women in what had been a males-only occupation.
DeleteI'll put this on my list to read. Good reveiw.
ReplyDelete