"The Solemn Boy" by Wendell Berry

Nothing really changes in the story. There’s no action. A son and his father are traveling the country in 1934, are fed, and then move on without changing their condition much. It’s rather a study of character, revealed by gestures. The travelers come across the Proudfoot farm, where Ptolemy Proudfoot and his wife Minnie keep house.

Tol is 62, and works without complaint, although he’s noticing with surprise that he has gotten old. A giant of a man whose clothes never quite stay tucked, he conducts the business of his farm with care. He notices the travelers and invites them in. The father is reluctant to accept charity, but Ptolemy tells him to get that boy warm at the stove, and that Minnie will have food ready.

The Proudfoots are models of delicacy in their manners. They don’t pry into the business of the destitute guests. They tactfully look away so that the visitors can look at them. Miss Minnie very much wants to give a comforting touch to the boy’s shoulder, but doesn’t.

Since they won’t talk, likely not wanting to reveal how they’ve become so poor that a father and a son have to walk on foot cross country, Ptolemy starts telling his whole family history to them. Do you know any Proudfoots? Any Quints? No? Perhaps he is also attempting to establish a family connection, so that he and his wife, who are childless, could give a home to the boy. “We sure could use a boy like that,” a fervent wish barely expressed.

Tol’s great act of kindness is to get the “solemn boy” to laugh by pointing out the dangers of drinking buttermilk from the far side of the glass, which he demonstrates by spilling the buttermilk all over his shirt. Finally everyone is able to laugh. Minnie shows her kindness with food, her husband does it with the unexpected joke. A heroic deed!

They mention to the father that they could take care of the boy if he consented, but he doesn’t. The father accepts a coat for the boy, refuses one for himself, and they travel on. All is as before. And yet, in the coda to the story, Minnie mentions that although he never mentioned it to his wife, Ptolemy would have dearly loved to have had children. The story reveals the character of the man who marries the love of his life and never once mentions their inability to have children.

What do I take away from the story? These are fictional people, of course, but they stand in for all the quiet people without whose kindness the world would be dismal. That they are rural matters too. Such people are often forgotten or derided as unsophisticated, yet there is sophistication of a high degree in the way they tactfully impose their kindness on the unnamed boy and his father, and also in the way Ptolemy loves his wife. There are, I hope, many such cases.

I re-read it today, knew what was going to happen, and nevertheless was still deeply affected. Darn it!