Sunday, July 7, 2019

211 Literary journal

Literary journey 


When we decided to head to the mountains for our anniversary this year, we really weren’t sure where our travels would take us.



I started researching the area around Asheville, N.C. and found a few stops we would have to make.

The first was the home of Thomas Wolfe, author of “Look Homeward Angel.” 

 The American writer grew up in Asheville where his mother’s boarding house, the Old Kentucky Home, is situated in the downtown area of the hustling, bustling city. It is captured in time with the furnishings intact from when his family resided at the stately residence.

Stepping back many decades, the tour guide presented a well-documented account of Wolfe’s life as well as his family’s. The state of North Carolina owns the property, The Thomas Wolfe Memorial State Historic Site, which the family donated, and keeps it preserved in the manner it deserves. High-rise buildings surround it but that doesn’t take away from the feeling visitors get as they follow his life events.
The visitor center which was built in the back yard of his family residence houses an exhibit with his belongings that are not part of the time he lived in the house. Items from his other dwellings are showcased in the exhibit--clothing, books, etc.

One fact that stood out to me was he never learned to type. He wrote out his masterpieces long hand and someone else would type them. This would have been a considerable number of pages to type since most of his books were more than 500. His first novel was about his life in Asheville but he changed the names although many people recognized themselves and were not happy. But Wolfe did come home again even though his novel title 
was You Can’t Go Home Again as he is buried in Asheville. 

I reluctantly left after soaking up all I could about this famous author. To walk in the rooms he did was beyond belief. 

So moving on to another American author--Carl Sandburg, we stopped at his home in Flat Rock, N.C. which was not far from Asheville. The family purchased this home as a retreat later in life and lived there until he died in 1967. His widow sold the house to the National Park Service including all furnishings. It is part of the National Park Service and is a National Historic Site. 


Items in the house are placed exactly as the family left them including personal items, clothes, dishes, etc. The number of books is overwhelming. Now there are about 12,000 in the house but when the family lived there the number was tens of thousands more.

The tour guide reported that the house had undergone a major renovation several years ago, but all items had been placed back in the house exactly as the family had left them. The Pulitzer-Prize-winning poet also wrote a six-volume biography of President Abraham Lincoln.

The park is located on 264 acres and offers hikes, farm visits including goats (some descendants of the Sandburg goats), and productions by local artists. Sandburg is not buried in the area but returned to his midwestern roots for his final resting place.

One can’t help but think of his poem “Fog” which starts with

      The fog comes 
      on little cat feet. 

      It sits looking
      over city and harbor
      on silent haunches
      and then moves on. 

Again, it is overwhelming to view and be present in the actual home of an amazing writer.
If that wasn’t enough of a literary thrill, we continued to the Grove Park Inn in Asheville where many famous people stayed, including F. Scott Fitzgerald. A display case explains his tenure at the magnificent stone structure. His wife Zelda had actually stayed at Wolfe’s boarding house before she took up residence in a nearby medical facility. 




He preferred the inn which he frequented on many occasions.


Of course, I purchased books by each author at each site and purchased some online. This became an automatic list for my summer reading and will probably take me into fall. 


If you are ever in the Asheville neighborhood, I highly recommend putting these literary stops on the list.

Frances            

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