 |
|
|
|
>>More Guides
>>More on
this book
>>Order this book
|
| About the
Author |
|
Andrea Barrett,
currently a Fellow at the New York Public Library's Center for
Scholars and Writers, grew up on Cape Cod and graduated from
Union College in Schenectady, New York, where she studied
biology. In addition to five novels, she has also written a
previous collection of short fiction, Ship Fever, which
received the 1996 National Book Award. Recently named a
MacArthur Fellow, she lives with her husband in Rochester,
New York.
|
|
|
| |
 |
| |
|
Servants of the Map
Reading Group Guide
|
|
Foreword |
Discussion
Questions |
|
Also by
Andrea Barrett
|
| |
Foreword
The six stories gathered in
Servants of the Map range across time from the
beginning of the nineteenth century to the end of the
twentieth century, and across space from the western Himalaya
to an Adirondack village. Some are short while several are
novella-length, but all, regardless of size or setting, share
Andrea Barrett's characteristic curiosity about science and
history, and about the conflicting desires of people drawn to
explore the natural world. Although each richly layered tale
stands alone, readers who are already fans of Barrett's work
will discover subtle links to characters in her last two books,
Ship Fever and The Voyage of the Narwhal.
"As I wrote these," Barrett says, "I was thinking about the
physical relics that pass down through families—books,
letters, clothing, collections of stones and bones—and
also about some other, less palpable links: what is inherited
and what is learned, what is hard-wired into us and what can
be taught. And I was thinking about the fluidity of families
during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, when disaster
was a part of daily life and parents routinely lost their
young children, even as children were routinely orphaned.
"So many people were handed over to the care of relatives and
friends, to grow up in the homes of those not their natural
parents. It's hard not to be curious about both the enormous
kindness that implies and the potential difficulties. Or not
to wonder if this isn't one of those places where science
intersects with personal history. A child wondering, "How do
I know who I am?" may later wonder, "How do we know anything
we know?," that passionate curiosity about identity becoming
the seed of scientific inquiry.
"The truth is that, like an overprotective parent, I have
a lot of trouble letting go of characters after I've created
them—their lives seem to continue without me long after
I've sent the books out into the world. What started these new
stories was the continuing evolution, in my imagination, of
Rose and Bianca Marburg, who first appeared in 'The Marburg
Sisters' in Ship Fever. No sooner had that book been
published than the sisters were clamoring for more stories:
from that impulse grew 'The Mysteries of Ubiquitin' and 'The
Forest.'
"While writing 'The Mysteries of Ubiquitin' I became aware of
Max Vigne, whose letters Suky Marburg had hoarded without
fully understanding how they'd come to her. As Max's life
unfolded in 'Servants of the Map,' the oddest thing happened:
it was as if Max, walking out of some other realm and toward
me, had left the door open behind him. Beyond the door lay the
history of all the ancestors of the Marburg sisters, however
distant they might be in time or space or even blood
relationship.
"As the new stories emerged, I began to see a family tree that
not only tied together these characters but also revealed
their relationships to characters from Ship Fever and
The Voyage of the Narwhal. Through the Marburg sisters
I found the story of the young Lavinia Wells (from 'Theories
of Rain'), who had existed in The Voyage of the Narwhal
only as Erasmus's dead mother. Lavinia led me to her lost
brother, Caleb Bernhard (from 'Two Rivers'). Similarly, once
I realized that Ned Kynd, who appeared very briefly as a boy
in Ship Fever and then turned up as a crucial minor
character in The Voyage of the Narwhal, was the person
to whom Erasmus had entrusted the relics of his mother, and
through whom these had passed down to the Marburg family, it
became possible to imagine the story called 'The Cure.'
"Finally I could see what had happened to Nora Kynd as a
result of the early experiences that lie at the heart of
'Ship Fever'; finally I could see how, through one of her
granddaughters, she was connected to the Marburg family. That
she also turned out to be intimately involved in the life of
Elizabeth Vigne, Max's eldest daughter—well, who can
account for these things? They are a mystery even to me; even
after all these years.
"The truth is that you don't need to know any of this for the
stories to make sense—they exist on their own, and none
depends in a factual way on each other or on the preceding
books. But the stories' internal relationships were for me
the central inspiration. I wrote them beneath a big sheet of
white paper tacked to the wall above my desk: a physical
representation of that family tree, which still continues to
grow. The novel I'm starting work on now will close what's
becoming a very loose set of four books, linking characters
from it to those in Ship Fever, The Voyage of the
Narwhal, and Servants of the Map."
Discussion
Questions
1. Letters—from Clara to Max and Max to Clara; from Max
to his brother and to Dr. Joseph Hooker—are at the center
of "Servants of the Map." Of these, perhaps the most unusual
are the ones Clara writes to Max before he even leaves home.
She's addressing these, in a sense, to a Max who doesn't yet
exist, living a life that exists only in her imagination, and
in the future. What does this say to you about Clara? How do
you think email—which is instantaneous, and encourages
impulsive comments—has changed the relationship of people
who might formerly have sustained an important relationship
primarily by letters? Consider the difference between Max and
Clara's experience, and that of the climber recently lost on
Mt. Everest, who was able to reach his wife in America by cell
phone during his last minutes.
2. In "The Forest," sections of the story alternate between
the points of view of Bianca and of Krzysztof Wojciechowicz.
How does this influence your perception of their developing
relationship? How do they view each other at the beginning of
the story, and at the end? Who's been changed more by their
time together?
3. How would you characterize the relationship, in "Theories
of Rain," of Lavinia and the aged botanist, William Bartram?
What does he see in her when she is playing with his crow?
Do you think his tacit approval of her helps make possible the
question Frank asks at the end of the story? And what about
her answer—has her passionate scientific curiosity helped
her see Frank's actual strengths, in contrast to her fantasies
of James?
4. "Two Rivers" opens with a letter from Miriam, writing in
1853 to Stuart, her "dead husband's dearest friend." You might
expect, then, that the story would be largely about Miriam at
this point in her life, or about her relationship with
Stuart—but in fact, after that opening section, the story
is concerned primarily with Caleb Bernhard's early years.
Only midway through the story does his life intersect with
Miriam and her younger sister, Grace—and only at the end
does the story return to middle-aged and now-widowed Miriam.
Why do you think the author might have chosen to keep shifting
the perspective of the story in this fashion, and to keep
you guessing—until the end—about the story's "real"
center? What is conveyed about how, in our own lives, our
perspective shifts as to what the "real" or "important" events
of our lives have turned out to be?
5. When did you realize that Caleb Bernhard's lost sister was
the Lavinia of "Theories of Rain"? In light of this, how do
you think Caleb's longing for Lavinia colors his feelings for
Grace? Miriam, so devoted to Grace, might seem to some people
to have sacrificed her own desires on behalf of her sister;
what do you think her married years with Caleb were like?
6. In "The Mysteries of Ubiquitin," Rose is upset when Peter
explains, at a dinner party, that her research into ubiquitin
and his on beetles are similar in that "both break large dead
things into smaller bits, so new things can be made." Why do
you think she finds this analogy between their work upsetting?
What does this suggest about her memory of her mother and
about the way it may be shifting under the influence of Peter?
7. Elizabeth Vigne, one of the two central characters in
"The Cure," chooses to stay in the Adirondacks after a youth
disrupted by her father's travels and adventures. Why do you
think she felt so drawn to Nora, and to Nora's work, that
she'd establish a boarding house for invalids? What role do
you think Andrew played in her decision to do that, and how do
you think he comforts and supports her?
8. If you're familiar with "Ship Fever," then you might
remember Nora Kynd, who appeared in that novella as a young
woman, newly emigrated from Ireland and desperately ill at
the quarantine station on Grosse Isle. What is it like to
encounter this character again, later in her life? Were you
satisfied with the way the rest of her life unfolded?
9. Story collections are always ordered intentionally, with
the hope of evoking, by rhythm and contrast, certain responses
in a reader. That's especially true for a collection like
Servants of the Map, in which the stories are linked
to one another and speak to one another. Why do you think the
stories are presented in this particular order?
Also
by Andrea Barrett
Lucid Stars, paper, 1988, Delta
Secret Harmonies, paper, 1990, Washington Square
Press
The Middle Kingdom, paper, 1992, Washington
Square Press
The Forms of Water, paper, 1994, Washington
Square Press
Ship Fever, paper, 1997, W. W. Norton & Company
The Voyage of the Narwhal, paper, 1999, W. W. Norton & Company
|
|
| | |
|