Chapter 19 — Teaching Companion

What it asks It asks the student to read the narrator’s attitude in the essay that opens the chapter. He says the church and the whorehouse “arrived in the Far West simultaneously,” and that each was meant to take a man “out of his bleakness for a time.” The churches came in “swinging, cocky and loud and confident,” built churches “which couldn’t be paid for in a hundred years,” and fought each other “with a fine lustiness.” He mocks their preaching with a seal on circus horns. Yet he credits them with Scripture, music, conscience and “the structure of social life in the Salinas Valley,” and says “some of the truth and beauty remained.” The brothels, by contrast, were “quiet, orderly, and circumspect,” with “low decorous voices,” and “The brothel was accepted while it was not admitted.” The student decides which the narrator respects more. It feeds the hinge: the essay is the chapter’s measuring stick for what a ministry brings set against how it carries itself, and its picture of a bowed head and a covered face is waiting when a quiet young woman arrives at Faye’s. The card must not treat the essay as a digression, and must not linger on the brothel’s trade.

One reading

The churches. He laughs at their noise and their debts, but every lasting thing in the essay is theirs: the Scripture, the music, a nudged conscience, the church supper that became the country club. The brothel gets good manners and nothing more. Its quiet is a kind of hiding, and the town accepts it without admitting it.

• The honest preachers had energy and go.
• They built the structure of social life in the Salinas Valley.

Another reading

The brothel. Every picture of the churches is a joke at their expense: brewery horses, a seal biting out the anthem, sects sure the others are “bound for hell in a basket.” The brothel gets grave words: it comes “silently and gravely.” He even says a listener could mistake one for the other, and it is the brothel that sounds like church.

• The brothels were quiet, orderly, and circumspect.
• you would have been likely to confuse the identities of the two ministries.

Listen for

• Notices that the narrator mocks and credits both: the churches are loud and in debt but left music and conscience; the brothels are quiet but hidden.
• Hears the tone of the images: brewery horses and a seal on circus horns for one, a bowed head and a covered face for the other.
• Uses “accepted while it was not admitted” to ask what the town’s tolerance of the brothel was worth.
• Treats the brothel plainly as a setting and keeps the essay in view as the chapter’s measuring stick, not a detour.

If stuck

• How does the narrator say the churches arrived? How did the brothels arrive?
• What does he say the churches left behind in the valley?
• Who earns more of your respect: someone who does good loudly, or someone who keeps quiet and keeps out of sight?

A strong answer A strong response takes a side and reads the narrator’s images as well as his claims. One reader says the churches: he laughs at their noise, but everything lasting in the essay is theirs, from the Scripture to the church supper, while the brothel earns only good manners and a town that accepts it without admitting it. Another says the brothel: the churches get brewery horses and a seal on circus horns, the brothel gets “silently and gravely,” and it is the brothel a listener would take for church. The best answers notice that the narrator credits the churches with results and the brothel with manners, and keep that difference in mind on Kate’s first night, when she looks down “to try to conceal” her tears.

What it asks It asks the student to notice who supplies the story on Kate’s first night. Faye takes her into her own bedroom and questions her harder than usual, because Kate fits none of the kinds Faye knows: “lazy, vengeful, lustful, unsatisfied, greedy, ambitious.” Faye says Kate could have “a husband and a surrey and a corner house in town,” rolling her wedding band as she says it. Kate smiles “shyly”: “It’s so hard to explain. I hope you won’t insist on knowing. The happiness of someone very near and dear to me is involved. Please don’t ask me.” Faye answers, “I’ve known things like that,” tells of a girl who was supporting her baby, and asks, “Do you have a baby, dear?” Kate “looked down to try to conceal the shine of tears in her eyes” and whispers, “I’m sorry, I can’t talk about it.” The student decides whose story Faye is believing. It feeds the hinge: Kate’s gift is to read what each person wants and become it, and here she does it with one vague phrase, a silence and a lowered face. The card must not say what Kate feels about the sons she left, or why she chose this life. It must not make Faye a fool: right afterwards she goes to the sheriff, because “She knew something was wrong about Kate.”

One reading

Faye’s own. Faye builds it out of her own past: she has “known things like that,” a girl who supported a baby and now has “a fine house and a husband.” She asks the leading question herself. Kate adds nothing but a silence and a lowered face. Faye believes a story she has told before, and Kate simply does not correct her.

• I’ve known things like that.
• Do you have a baby, dear?

Another reading

Kate’s. Kate leaves a gap cut to fit exactly this story: “someone very near and dear,” and “Please don’t ask me.” She knows a motherly woman will fill it. The narrator says she looked down “to try to conceal” the tears, and tears someone tries to hide are the ones that get noticed. Faye only fills in what Kate set up.

• The happiness of someone very near and dear to me is involved. Please don’t ask me.
• Kate looked down to try to conceal the shine of tears in her eyes.

Listen for

• Notices who says “baby” first: Faye.
• Notices how little Kate says: one vague phrase, a silence and a lowered face. Faye supplies the rest.
• Keeps Faye from being a fool: she knows “something was wrong about Kate” and goes to the sheriff to clear herself.
• Says nothing about what Kate feels for the sons she left; the chapter shows only the shine of tears.

If stuck

• What reason does Kate give Faye for coming to the house?
• What story does Faye tell, and what does she ask right after it?
• When someone will not explain themselves, how do the people around them fill in the gap?

A strong answer A strong response decides who wrote the story and points to who said what. One reader says it is Faye’s own: she has “known things like that,” tells of the girl with the baby, and asks the leading question herself, while Kate only stays silent. Another says it is Kate’s: “someone very near and dear” is a gap cut to fit, and tears she tries “to conceal” are the ones Faye sees. The best answers notice how little Kate actually says, and that the one claim she makes can never be checked, and ask whether that makes the story more hers or less.

What it asks It asks the student to stop on one question Kate puts to the one man in the chapter who sees through her. The sheriff speaks “almost as though he weren’t much interested,” and Kate drops her “slightly stupid demure look” to read him. He says, “I don’t want to know,” and “I want peace in this county.” He tells her Mr. Trask will get well. She says, “I’m sorry,” and he answers, “Now that’s the first time you’ve made a mistake,” and “You’re not sorry.” He reminds her of the boys she left and says he will not make her go back. Kate asks evenly, “What is it you do want?” He sets his terms: keep the new name, keep the made-up past, and keep her reason “about two thousand miles away from King City.” She smiles, “and not a forced smile,” and he adds that she should dye her hair black. Then she asks, “Isn’t there a threat? I mean, what you’ll do if I—” He answers, “No, there isn’t. I guess I could think up something pretty ornery, though, if it came to that.” The student decides what she is listening for. It feeds the hinge: the narrator says she “rather liked the sheriff. He was direct,” and this is the man she likes, the one who wants something plain and does not believe her apology. The card must not say why Kate chose this life or what she feels about the sons she left.

One reading

The price. Kate understands bargains. Through the whole visit she has listened for what he wants, and a man who wants nothing is the hardest to read. She has begun to trust him because he wants something plain. A threat would finish the bargain: it would tell her what the deal costs and where she stands.

• Kate was holding her breath, listening for any hint of what was coming and not hearing any hints.
• What is it you do want?

Another reading

The edge. She is testing how far she could go before he acts. His “No” is followed by a threat after all, said mildly, from a man who has already told her about hanging someone “like you.” That is the answer she needed: the line is real even if he will not draw it out loud.

• I guess I could think up something pretty ornery, though, if it came to that.
• I knew somebody like you once—hung him twelve years ago in front of the county jail.

Listen for

• Hears the question as part of a deal: “What is it you do want?” came first.
• Notices that the sheriff’s “No” is followed by a threat after all.
• Connects the question to her liking him: he is “direct,” he does not believe “I’m sorry,” and her smile is “not a forced smile.”
• Gives no reason for Kate’s choice of this life; the sheriff himself says “I don’t want to know.”

If stuck

• What does the sheriff ask Kate to do?
• What does he say when she asks about a threat?
• Why might someone trust a person who wants something plain from them more than one who wants nothing?

A strong answer A strong response names what Kate is listening for and ties it to how she has listened all along. One reader says the price: a man who wants nothing is hard to read, and a threat would tell her what the deal costs. Another says the edge: she is testing how far she can go, and his mild “something pretty ornery” from a man who once hanged someone “like you” tells her the line is real. The best answers notice that this is the one person Kate “rather liked,” and ask what it means that she trusts a bargain more than she trusts a kindness.

What it asks It asks the student to set Kate’s report of the sheriff’s visit beside the visit itself, and to explain the order the chapter tells them in. A year on, Faye asks “What did the sheriff say to you,” and Kate answers, “There’s no secret at all about that.” Then: “He told me I should go home. He was very nice about it. When I explained that I couldn’t, he was very nice and understanding.” Faye asks “jealously” whether she told him why, and Kate says, “Do you think I would tell him when I won’t tell you?” Then: “Kate’s face was in repose, but she was remembering every word of that interview,” and the narrator goes back a year. In the room the sheriff says the opposite of her report: “I’m not going to try to get you to go back. I guess I’d do quite a bit to keep you from going back.” The student finds those words and decides why the chapter lets Kate’s version come first. It feeds the hinge: from here on the reader checks what Kate says against what the page shows, which is the stance the last question needs, since only the reader is shown the hall. The card must not say why Kate chose this life or what she feels about the sons she left; the sheriff says only that she left them.

One reading

To fool the reader with Faye, and then catch us. We hear a kind sheriff and a girl with a home she cannot go back to, and it fits the story of the first night. Then section 3 gives us the man himself, who would “do quite a bit” to keep her away. Having been taken in once, the reader stops taking Kate at her word.

• He told me I should go home.
• I guess I’d do quite a bit to keep you from going back.

Another reading

To put us inside Kate’s head. The flashback is her own memory, played while she sits calmly with Faye. The reader watches her hold two versions at once: the one she tells and the one she keeps. The point is not that we were fooled. It is the distance between her calm face and what she remembers.

• Kate’s face was in repose, but she was remembering every word of that interview.
• As a matter of fact, she rather liked the sheriff.

Listen for

• Finds the sheriff’s own words, “I’m not going to try to get you to go back,” and sees that Kate’s report turns them around.
• Notices that section 3 is framed as Kate’s memory: “remembering every word of that interview,” with her face “in repose.”
• Sees what her version does for Faye and what it hides: a kind sheriff and a girl kept from home, with nothing about what he knows.
• Claims nothing about why Kate left or what she feels for her sons; the sheriff says only “You left a couple of babies.”

If stuck

• What does Kate tell Faye the sheriff said?
• In section 3, what does the sheriff say about making her go back?
• When a story gives you someone’s account first and the real event after, how does it change the way you listen to that person?

A strong answer A strong response quotes both versions and argues for the order. One reader says the chapter fools us along with Faye and then catches us: the kind sheriff of Kate’s story becomes a man who would “do quite a bit” to keep her away, and after that the reader checks her words. Another says the flashback is Kate’s own memory, so the chapter puts us behind her calm face to watch her keep one version and tell another. The best answers notice that Kate tells Faye a plain falsehood here, and that the narrator saves “the best lie of all” for the true sentence a few pages later.

What it asks It asks the student to judge how the essay builds its argument. The narrator says the churches brought Scripture, music and conscience, and that “They were not pure, but they had a potential of purity, like a soiled white shirt.” Then he gives his test case. The Reverend Billing, “when they caught up with him, turned out to be a thief, an adulterer, a libertine,” and worse, “but that didn’t change the fact that he had communicated some good things to a great number of receptive people. Billing went to jail, but no one ever arrested the good things he had released. And it doesn’t matter much that his motive was impure. He used good material and some of it stuck. I use Billing only as an outrageous example.” At once he turns to “The honest preachers.” The student writes a thesis on whether the extreme case makes the point stronger or weaker, meets the strongest objection, and revises. It feeds the hinge: this is the measuring stick the last question holds Kate to, tested here on its own ground first. The card must keep Kate out of this answer, since the last written question asks about her, and must not treat the essay as a digression.

One reading

Stronger. It is an argument from the hardest case. If good survives even a man like Billing, it survives anyone. The narrator also claims very little: not that Billing did good, but that “some of it stuck,” and that no one could arrest what he had released. A small claim tested on the worst messenger is hard to knock down.

• Billing went to jail, but no one ever arrested the good things he had released.
• He used good material and some of it stuck.

Another reading

Weaker. An outrageous example invites a laugh, and the narrator admits he chose it for effect. What stuck was the “good material,” the Scripture, not anything of Billing’s own; so the case shows that the material matters, not that motive does not. And he turns straight to “The honest preachers,” as if his real case needs honest men after all.

• I use Billing only as an outrageous example.
• The honest preachers had energy and go.

Listen for

• Separates the material from the man: “He used good material.”
• Weighs how much the narrator claims: “doesn’t matter much,” “some of it stuck.”
• Notices the turn to “The honest preachers” right after the example.
• Revises rather than restates: a good revision may hold that the case proves good can outlast a bad messenger but not that motive does not matter, or argue the reverse.

If stuck

• What did Billing turn out to be when they caught him?
• What does the narrator say stayed behind after Billing went to jail?
• If a liar tells you something true and useful, does it matter that he was a liar?

A strong answer A strong response builds a thesis, meets the strongest objection, and revises. One thesis says stronger: an argument from the hardest case, with a modest claim, “some of it stuck,” that even Billing cannot spoil. The strongest objection is the narrator’s own admission, “I use Billing only as an outrageous example,” and the fact that what stuck was the “good material,” not the man. A good revision might hold that the case proves good words can outlast a bad speaker, and leave open whether it proves anything about good done by someone with nothing to pass on but themselves.

What it asks It asks the chapter’s whole question. In her first year Kate helps the other girls keep their rooms clean, serves them “when they were sick,” listens to their troubles and, “as soon as she had some, loaned them money.” She remembers birthdays “and always had a present and a cake with candles.” There is “no drudgery she was afraid of.” She takes over the marketing and the grocery bills come down a third; nearly all the girls “carried and treasured her handkerchiefs.” Faye comes to think of her as a daughter. Then Kate tells Faye “the best lie of all—the truth,” Faye kisses her, and “in the hall on the way to the kitchen she rubbed the kiss from her cheek with her fingertips.” Minutes later it takes her “a fraction of a second” to dig the shell out of Faye’s tooth, and she packs it. The chapter offers three measures: the narrator’s on Billing, “it doesn’t matter much that his motive was impure”; Faye’s, “if it didn’t harm the house it really wasn’t Faye’s business”; and the sheriff’s, “I don’t care how you live as long as you don’t give me any trouble.” And the narrator says men remember a madam as “a philanthropist, medical authority, bouncer, and poetess of the bodily emotions without being involved with them.” The student writes a thesis on whether Kate’s help counts as kindness, meets the strongest objection, and revises. The card must not say that Kate will own the house (only the girls predict it), that she harms Faye or means to, what the medicine drawer may mean later, why Kate came, or what she feels about the sons she left.

One reading

It counts. The girls were nursed, the loans were real money, the cakes were eaten, and the tooth stopped hurting. None of that depends on Kate’s cheek. The narrator has already argued that good done through impure hands still takes hold, and the girls’ treasured handkerchiefs are what stuck. Kindness is measured by what it does for the one who receives it.

• Nearly all the girls carried and treasured her handkerchiefs.
• And it doesn’t matter much that his motive was impure.

Another reading

It does not. It may be help, but kindness is help given for the other person’s sake, and the hall shows Kate wants none of what kindness gives back. The narrator says she “put herself out to be pleasant”: effort, not warmth. Billing passed on Scripture, good material apart from himself; Kate passes on only Kate, so there is no good material to stick once her heart is out of it.

• in the hall on the way to the kitchen she rubbed the kiss from her cheek with her fingertips.
• Kate put herself out to be pleasant.

Listen for

• Separates help from kindness: may grant that the girls were helped and still deny kindness, or the reverse.
• Weighs the chapter’s three measures, the narrator’s on Billing, Faye’s “if it didn’t harm the house,” and the sheriff’s “as long as you don’t give me any trouble,” and asks whether the reader is held to the same one.
• Sets the hall beside the tooth: minutes after rubbing off the kiss, Kate needs only “a fraction of a second” to dig out the shell.
• Revises rather than restates, and claims nothing the chapter does not show: not that Kate will own the house, harm Faye, or feel anything about her sons.

If stuck

• Name three things Kate does for the girls in her first year.
• What does she do in the hall after Faye kisses her?
• If someone helps you well but does not care about you, have they been kind to you?

A strong answer A strong response builds a thesis, meets the strongest objection, and revises. One thesis says the help counts: the girls were nursed and lent money, the tooth stopped hurting, and the narrator has argued that good done by impure hands still “stuck.” The strongest objection is the hall, where Kate rubs the kiss away, and the narrator’s “put herself out to be pleasant”: help given for what it buys may not be kindness at all. A good revision might hold that the girls received kindness that Kate never gave, or argue the reverse, and weigh why the chapter shows the hall to the reader alone.