Odd Leaves From the Life of a Louisiana Swamp Doctor.
KIBLER, JAMES EVERETT
Odd Leaves From the Life of a Louisiana Swamp Doctor, by Henry Clay
Lewis, with introduction by Edwin T. Arnold. Baton Rouge: Louisiana
State University Press, 1997. xi-xlvii, 21-203 pp. $24. 95.
Henry Clay Lewis ("Madison Tensas") is a powerful writer
who also had the gift of a light and urbane touch. His vision
encompassed joy, humor, and extreme darkness. He provides yet another
example of high Southern antebellum achievement. In reclaiming him to
the canon, we also deepen and broaden the understanding of that
achievement.
Lewis, of Jewish descent, was born in 1825 in Charleston. When
fourteen, he moved to Yazoo City, Mississippi, and remained six years.
Here at age nineteen, he published his first sketch, "Cupping on
the Sternum." He attended medical school in Louisville, Kentucky;
and from 1846 until his death in 1850, he was a country doctor on the
Tensas River in Madison Parish, Louisiana, where he wrote his
"Swamp Doctor" stories. When Lewis was twenty-five, he
collected these into his only book, Odd Leaves, published in 1850, a
work that can stand unashamed in the company of the best American works
of the decade, so often called the era of the "American
Renaissance." In that same year of publication, young Lewis died of
drowning at the age of twenty-five while attending a patient. It is
remarkable that Odd Leaves would have issued from the pen of one so
young; and his death without doubt ended what may have been the most
promising literary career in America.
Edwin Arnold's introduction makes a strong case for the
volume's "definite structure" created by recurring themes
and images, yielding an "organized text which has its own ambitious
and unique identity, shape, and movement." Arnold convincingly
places Lewis's "dark world" with Poe, Hawthorne, and
Melville. Writes Arnold: "That we fail to associate writers like
Lewis with these better known authors is at least in part due to our
unwillingness to believe that such seriously conceived literature could
arise from the forests and swamps on the outskirts of
civilization." Of course, such was also the case for a long time
with William Faulkner. This geographical elitism seems to be a now
congenital problem of the American literary establishment--fortunately
now in disarray in its decadence.
Arnold wisely continues that Lewis is indeed a serious writer whose
Odd Leaves" remains a book to be reckoned with. We should and
surely will laugh at its humor, but if we fail to recognize the human
truths, tragedies, and terrors it also portrays, then we will have
missed the heart of a very important work." That "dark
side" delineates "the disturbed, the deformed, and the
dispossessed, the physical and psychological `monsters' who inhabit
the borderlands between solid earth and liquid swamp, and between the
rational world and the world of madness." Hence Lewis enters the
Southern continuum of the gothic and grotesque, as drawn in a line from
Byrd and Simms and Poe to Faulkner, O'Connor, and Crews.
An essential aspect of Odd Leaves's achievement is its symbol
and image patterning. As one example, Lewis portrays the swamp as a
psychological realm depicting the deceptive nature of the world. This
will remind us of the same depiction in Simms in works like Woodcraft,
Eutaw, and The Forayers, all written after Simms reviewed Odd Leaves in
1850. In one of his stories, Tensas rides into the swamp on a horse
named Chaos and takes the "devious path" of the swamp.
Arnold reckons that in the final analysis Odd Leaves is
"writing of the first rank, thoughtfully conceived and
executed," writing that "poses those basic questions of
personal identity and self-determination, of body and boundary."
Arnold's is a splendid, sensible introduction that provides
excellent context for Lewis and sound provocative criticism of the text
itself. Even more importantly, this work gives added proof for the
ever-growing case that the combined achievement of the antebellum
thinkers and writers of the South will take no secondary position on the
Continent.
JAMES EVERETT KIBLER University of Georgia