Digging in the Spoon River

Edgar Lee Masters

‘Spoon River Anthology’ (1915)

In the opening poem of ‘Spoon River Anthology’, Edgar Lee Masters mentions a female character by the name of Sevigne Houghton. This is the only mention of this particular character as she, like many mentioned in ‘The Hill’, has no epitaph of her own. Nevertheless, she should not pass unnoticed.

‘Sevigne’ is not, it seems, a given name. It’s most well-known usage is as part of the title of a revered French writer of letters from the 17^th Century – Marie de Rabutin-Chantel, marquise de Sévigné. The Sévigné of which she is the marquise is an area of Northwestern France – Cesson-Sévigné, a residential area for the middle-class. But, apparently, even in France, it is not used as a given name. The closest variant that is so used is the Lithuanian ‘Svajonė’, which means ‘dream’.

Given that Sevigne Houghton, along with all the other characters mentioned in this poem, is ‘sleeping on the hill’, it may not be accidental that Masters adapts a marquise’s title, especially one that has connections to dreaming, as a given name.

If this character’s first name is noticeable due to its uniqueness, her surname is not without interest. ‘Houghton’ derives from the Old English ‘huh’ meaning literally ‘heel’ but also ‘ridge’ or ‘spur’. In a place name, -ton simply means ‘town’. So, the name ‘Houghton’ refers to a town on a ridge or spur. Generally, the name is said to mean ‘town on the headland’. Normally, a headland is a narrow piece of land that projects out to sea. As we are dealing with poetry, however, we can take a little bit of license and imagine a river rather than a much bigger expanse of water. In some sense, then, Sevigne Houghton becomes a figure who personifies the whole town of Spoon River.

At this point, we should ask whether we are paying far too much attention to a single name?

Those who may not have a natural affinity with poetry may well suggest that this is all a pointless exercise, digging into minutiae of the irrelevant.

One aspect of studying poetry that could well benefit many who must speak in the public arena is the need for a careful, deliberate and thoughtful use of language. All too often these days, our politicians, for instance, are allowed to side-step something they previously said by claiming they ‘misspoke’. Of course, to claim to ‘misspeak’ is to admit to not having spoken entirely truthfully. But, those who listen to those who speak in public are even less aware of the significance of individual words and are in no position to challenge the masters of spin.

Poetry focuses our attention on words because poets use them so sparingly. To fully understand poetry, one must be willing to explore an individual word, its denotation and connotations. To properly study poetry is to learn the disciplined use of words by osmosis.

Even if, as Shelley says in his ‘A Defence of Poetry’, poetry, in a general sense, is ‘the expression of the imagination’, the precision that poets bring to such expression should be a lesson to all who must speak words that have very real impact upon people’s lives. Those who defend what has been found to be inaccurate by claiming to have misspoken do so in full awareness that words are not heard – let alone understood – by the masses who put them in the positions they choose to abuse.

All that being said, why focus so painstakingly upon the name of an apparently insignificant character?

There is a justifiable literary reason for such an investigation.

Scott Meyers, in ‘The Importance of Character Names’, remembers a conversation in which a writer of a screenplay complained that the names ‘originally ascribed to a couple of characters no longer fit’. This says two things:

First, it’s a good thing because it shows that their characters were coming ‘alive’ in the writing process, evolving into their own ‘self’ beyond the monikers which had been tacked onto them.
Second, it evidenced the answer to the question: Character names are very important.

If writers really do consider the names of their characters as so important that they may be changed as their personalities develop then there is every reason for us to explore Sevigny Houghton’s given name. Especially when that name implies the character is somehow representative of the very place that gives its name to the anthology, as ‘Houghton’ at least references Spoon River’s geography.

None of which helps us understand why that given name was selected. If we can accept that ‘Houghton’ may have a geographical reference, we must be willing to recognise that the given name also has a reason.

At least since Roland Barthes 1967 essay, ‘The Death of the Author’, we must be careful not to claim too much insight into the intentions of the writer. Fortunately, Edgar Lee Masters gives us a degree of freedom in exploring the names of his characters. After all, no anthology of poetry which contains poems entitled, ‘Percy Bysshe Shelly’, ‘Dr Siegried Iseman’ and ‘Robert Southey Burke’ can claim to no intention behind the names. Two of these names reference poets of the Romantic movement and the other the father of psychoanalysis.

So, why ‘Sevigne’? Marie de Rabutin-Chantel, marquise de Sévigné is known for her letters to her daughter. She is also listed in the Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Not because she wrote treatises on philosophy like Immanuel Kant or David Hume, both of whom came along in the next century.

Marie de Rabutin-Chantel wrote against a mechanistic model of nature and favourably of the amatory nature of human relationships. She also seemed to have difficulty accepting human mortality. Who knows whether Edgar Lee Masters read the letters of Marie de Rabutin-Chantel? We can only extrapolate from the name in relation to the themes expressed in the poems of the anthology. On such a basis, we can see that Masters probably didn’t hold with a mechanistic view of human nature and would likely acknowledge the amatory.

‘Sevigne Houghton’ is a throwaway, a name mentioned in passing, having no further presence in the whole anthology. By paying attention to each word the poet chooses to use, even names that catch our attention for their oddity, we can learn so much about what is being said. Masters saw himself as writing the macrocosm in the microcosm of his poetry and if we are not willing to hear what that means we will always be susceptible to accepting the facile misspeaking excuses of those who speak on our behalf.

Masters draws our attention to the names of his characters, he hopes we will be savvy enough to hear what he is telling us outside the words of the epitaphs themselves. This is why we should read poetry; because not only does it force us to pay attention to individual words, it forces us, if we seek full understanding, to explore and discover meanings we might not see resting leisurely on the surface.

Just reading the list of 246 titles of Masters’ ‘Spoon River Anthology’ tells a story to those who are willing and able to read it.