The Sweetness of Water

Nathan Harris relies on the presence of shadows as a metaphor for each character’s past and insecurities and the darkness of the realities of and events surrounding slavery in towns like Old Ox.

Harris uses shadows to help characterize how individuals see one another in times of grief and confusion. For example, in the opening chapter, George’s conflict with his wife Isabelle leaves him confused and insecure about who he is. When he thinks about Isabelle, the narrator says he sees “the black outline of what could only be Isabelle carved in shadow against the front window” (11). George and Isabelle become distant over the news of Caleb’s death, as if each of them only exists in the vaguest way possible. They are merely shadows of themselves. This characterization and symbolism continue when Isabelle describes her first meeting with Landry at the clothesline. “She saw him before he saw her, as he was lost in his own shadow, his movements so deliberate they seemed like those of a toddler” (17). Isabelle cannot clearly see who the man is, but Landry, too, is “lost in his own shadow” because he has recently been freed from Morton’s farm, trying to survive in a hostile environment.

The shadows that Harris develops also characterize the shadiness of people whom George used to trust. When he visits Ezra, he expresses his desire to discontinue the sale of his land. Ezra tells George he is making a mistake and says, “it was only once he was out the door, saddlebags in hand, stepping from the shadows of the shop into the sagging sun, that he realized his old friend’s sleight of hand—“ (40). His old friend and his business are kept in the shadows, and when George enters the light, he realizes that his friend is trying to mislead him.

Perhaps the most significant use of symbolism as it relates to shadows is George’s hunt for the mysterious animal. George never gets a clear look at this animal, and readers soon realize that the shadowy figure he hunts is the evils of slavery practiced by Old Ox. The narrator describes the figure as “a black coat of fur that clung to the shadows, moving fluidly as if it were part of the darkness itself” (57). The figure is a representation of everything George realizes is unethical about the environment in which he lives.

The shadows in the novel also represent the fears of falling back into past practices. One example of this is when Prentiss is visited in jail by Clementine. When he shares his story and listens to hers, it is the first time since his capture that he feels like he could have a future. He daydreams of a life with her and her daughter, happy, free, and the joys of having a family. The narrator says, “he was fearful of being robbed of her presence, of losing her to the shadows and facing the dark alone” (241).

Water is often a symbol of purity and cleansing. One of the most important uses of water in the novel comes with the water fountain constructed at the entrance to Majesty’s Palace. The fountain is the only beautiful thing at the Morton plantation, and with the emancipation of the enslaved workers, the fountain is cracked and beyond repair because there is no one to take care of it. Landry recalls leaving his cabin at night to go and play in the fountain. It was a place for him to be a child, to imagine Prentiss chasing him in the water, only to be snatched back to reality and have his mother lie and say that he had been asleep the whole night.

Landry also senses peace and awe when he first comes to the pond and begins to drink from it. When he returns on his own during his Sunday outings, he sees women washing children in the pond. It is where he feels relaxed and free. Landry’s final scene before his death takes place in the pond where he is naked and free.

Water again plays a role in producing an arresting response from one of the novel’s characters. When George is accompanying Caleb and Prentiss to safety, he comes to a waterfall unlike anything he has seen previously:

the landscape continued to startle him, especially the river itself, which obliterated all his preconceived notions of nature’s power. It was the breadth of many men and he stopped their caravan for a time just to stand in awe of the rapids, a sight that prompted a fulmination of humility the likes of which he had never known.  (271)