 |
| Photo by Glynn Wilson |
| David Rae Morris in front of the Southside Gallery in Oxford, Mississippi and the image of his father, the writer Willie Morris. |
The aim of every artist is to arrest motion, which is life, by artificial means, and hold it fixed so that a hundred years later, when a stranger looks at it, it moves again… Since man is mortal, the only immortality possible for him is to leave something behind him that is immortal… This is the artist’s way of scribbling “Kilroy was here” on the wall of the final and irrevocable oblivion through which he must someday pass.
- William Faulkner, from Lion in the Garden, 1968.
Under the Microscope
by Glynn Wilson
OXFORD, Miss., July 28 – Like overcoming our fears in life, escaping shadows is something we all must face - or die trying.
Driving across the landscape of northwest Alabama out of the shadow of Birmingham’s dark past and into the light of a place in Mississippi known for its literary giants, who cast shadows of their own for others to escape, it is the shadow of the South itself I long to escape. It may sound funny, but the only way I know how to do that these days is to drive a Chevy van with a canoe on top from one part of the South to another in search of stories and pictures.
 |
| Photo by Dave Stueber |
| Writer Glynn Wilson at the grave of William Faulkner in St. Peter’s Cemetary in Oxford, Mississippi. |
It is hard to get away when some fortune teller long ago said, and she turned out to be right so far: “You will always be tied to this region, in spite of all your efforts to escape.”
Elvis Presley escaped by picking up a guitar and singing his way into history, although like a lot of us, he never really left.
The writer Willie Morris escaped by going off to school in Oxford, England and by going to New York, as all great American writers have done in the past. Morris regretted never having met Elvis, even though they were about the same age and both from Mississippi.
For David Rae Morris, an artist and photographer with indelible ties to this place even though you get the feeling he would like to escape it, his ultimate search for escape has been in some ways like the journey of the children of Elvis Presley, the attempted escape from a famous personage, his father.
Although in David Rae’s case, the shadow of Willie Morris the writer and teacher is not so towering as the shadow of the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll, who is known by so many people across the globe that the shotgun house of his birth in nearby Tupelo, Mississippi, along with the museum and chapel built there, stays busy year around.
So David Rae’s journey seems to have been as technically if not emotionally as easy as a lazy float down the Mississippi River into New Orleans. At least that’s where he found a city to call home that almost compared to the one he was born in, London, and the one he was raised in and would always judge other cities by, New York.
But it may very well be that the town where he is most accepted and welcome is Oxford, Mississippi, also known as the “Little Easy,” where the descendants of the people who knew William Faulkner knew Willie Morris better than anywhere else, including those in his home town of Yazoo, Mississippi.
Many of the photographs on display at the Southside Gallery on Oxford’s town circle, also known by locals as the “center of the universe,” show Willie Morris here, in black and white. Walking with his dog Pete, pointing a drunken finger at his son holding the camera, posing by Faulkner’s grave or gazing into the Southern horizon, the images show an extraordinary and contradictory man mostly past his prime.
Yet he seems content in his Southerness, more at home at the University of Mississippi teaching writing than he claims to have been in New York in the 1960s as the youngest editor in the history of Harper’s magazine in its heyday.
Read the rest of this entry »