Hagar's Hymns: Echo and Allusion in Margaret Laurence's The Stone Angel

Abstract

In Margaret Laurence's The Stone Angel, hymns define one context in which Hagar lives, and one voice that she might claim as her own. However, because singing unites many voices into a single voice, when Hagar challenges the words of hymns or connects with only a few of the hymn's words, hymns introduce paradox and ambiguity into her quest, and blur her supposed epiphany when the minister sings “All People that on Earth Do Dwell.” Although hymns may assist a character to transcend self and be subsumed into a spiritual community, hymns may also be part of a process of discovering the sound of an individual voice.

Keywords:

• Margaret Laurence
• The Stone Angel
• hymns
• women writers
• Canadian literature in English
• religious themes

Notes

1. For Margaret Laurence, writing in the 1960s and 1970s about heroines whose immediate roots are in the Canadian prairie and whose ancestry includes immigrants from Scotland to audiences in a country approximately 46% of the population Protestant (Rhéaume), using lines from Protestant hymns must have seemed a way to incorporate allusions that would be caught by many readers. However, in Canada today, where only about 30% of the population identifies itself as Protestant (“Population” and “Mainline Declines”), these echoes are among those that we should recover for contemporary readers. Laurence notes awareness of echoes and yet also awareness of the possibility that not all readers will be able to hear them when she speaks of her “oblique” references to Hagar's story in the Bible:

• I didn't want to make that too apparent, because I intended it only as a sort of echo—if you hear it in the novel that's fine; if you don't that's also fine. But I think that in that particular novel, as with some of my other work too, the natural frame of reference was the Biblical one. And of course, in a great deal of my writing there are many Biblical references. Which I suspect, to my sorrow, a lot of young people nowadays don't get, because they have not read the Old Testament, or the New Testament. (quoted in Sullivan 68)

I didn't want to make that too apparent, because I intended it only as a sort of echo—if you hear it in the novel that's fine; if you don't that's also fine. But I think that in that particular novel, as with some of my other work too, the natural frame of reference was the Biblical one. And of course, in a great deal of my writing there are many Biblical references. Which I suspect, to my sorrow, a lot of young people nowadays don't get, because they have not read the Old Testament, or the New Testament. (quoted in Sullivan 68)In Dance on the Earth, Laurence discusses her love for hymns and her dismay that they are usually patriarchal. Speaking of “Praise my soul the King of Heaven,” she writes, “[e]ven in hymns as stirring as this one, to leave out all mothers and daughters indicates something I do not like at all. I love these hymns; I love their music. Yet when I sing them I feel left out, deprived” (15). Laurence wrote to Chinua Achebe that she quit the Unitarian church because “I couldn't stand the hymns, which I call ‘spirit of Light’ hymns, very abstract and boring” (letter 3 June 1984, Margaret Laurence Papers, McMaster University, quoted in Boughton 168). Woodcock notes the influence of the United Church and its hymns on Laurence, but says they are not as important as they are in Marian Engel's The Glassy Sea (65). My research suggests hymns are of great importance in The Stone Angel.

2. Although current survey texts of British and American literature put out by the major publishers have in recent years greatly expanded their coverage of formerly marginalized works, hymns are generally not included. Century Readings in English Literature, published in 1910 and revised in 1929, presents a section entitled “Hymns of the Eighteenth Century” that contains an introduction and fourteen hymns by six different writers (475–9), and additionally prints William Cowper's “Walking with God” (479). Century Readings justifies including hymns while noting the difficulties of finding ones that are both widely known and have literary merit:

• Many famous hymns partly owe their persistence to the music to which they have been set. A hymn which has lived on its literary merits is usually noteworthy for breadth and simplicity of theme and treatment. The thought is likely to be obvious to the verge of commonplace. Only simple meters can survive; the music must be within the compass of relatively untrained singers. The imagery, likewise, can better afford to be hackneyed than to seem far-fetched to ordinary minds. And, with all these limitations, the feeling expressed must be noble and large. These are no mean attributes of a literary manner. The literature of hymnody has been filtered through the favor of many generations. What survives will have something of the quality of folk-song, and a similar interest. (474)

Many famous hymns partly owe their persistence to the music to which they have been set. A hymn which has lived on its literary merits is usually noteworthy for breadth and simplicity of theme and treatment. The thought is likely to be obvious to the verge of commonplace. Only simple meters can survive; the music must be within the compass of relatively untrained singers. The imagery, likewise, can better afford to be hackneyed than to seem far-fetched to ordinary minds. And, with all these limitations, the feeling expressed must be noble and large. These are no mean attributes of a literary manner. The literature of hymnody has been filtered through the favor of many generations. What survives will have something of the quality of folk-song, and a similar interest. (474)In contrast, The College Survey of English Literature from 1951 mentions in the introduction to William Cowper that “he wrote several of the best hymns … that have come down to us from his time” (635), but does not print either the hymn chosen by the editors of Century Readings or “God Moves in a Mysterious Way,” which Hollander hears echoing in William Blake's “The Tyger” and Robert Frost's “Design” (87). In The Stone Angel Hagar's father echoes the first two lines of Cowper's hymn, “God moves in a mysterious way / His wonders to perform” (The Book of Common Praise 510), when he comments on the death of a fallen woman, “Well, the Lord works in wondrous ways His will to perform” (SA 15). The sixth edition of The Norton Anthology of English Literature (1993) mentions Cowper's collaboration with John Newton on Olney Hymns, many of which are “still familiar to Methodists and other Nonconformists” (2501) without printing texts of any of them. Whereas The College Survey of English Literature from 1951 contains one hymn, John Henry Newman's “Lead, Kindly Light” (College Survey 933), in its 2003 edition The Norton Anthology of English Literature reproduces just part of the last stanza of this hymn within the introduction to Newman. Hagar's description of an experience while running away at night echoes Newman's “Lead Kindly Light,” originally entitled “The Pillar of the Cloud” (referring to Exodus 13 [The College Survey 933]): “Darkness has come, and now I realize that I do not really know where I am going. It is as though I am being led on, and for the moment I am content to follow my feet, certain they are taking me somewhere” (SA 92). Compare Newman's images: “Lead, kindly light, amid the encircling gloom / … The night is dark … / Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see / The distant scene; one step enough for me.” Lines from the second verse of the hymn reflect Hagar's character perfectly: “I loved to choose and see my path / … spite of fears, / Pride ruled my will” (The Hymnal 1940 430). Newman wrote the words in 1833, while on a boat traveling from Corsica to Sardinia. “His emotional mood may have been heightened by the fact that he had been seriously ill while in Sicily; certainly the reflection of that mood has lent an aura to this text which sets it apart from most hymns” (The Hymnal 1940 Companion 269). “Sandon,” a tune composed by Charles Henry Purday and published in 1860, is associated with this hymn (The Hymnal 1940 Companion 269), and interestingly, also with “Unto the Hills.” It may be that this tune with its two sets of words echoed in Laurence's mind as she wrote the novel. The more popular tune associated with “Lead, Kindly Light” is “Lux Benigna” (“St. Oswald”), composed by John Bacchus Dykes specifically for this hymn in 1865 (The Hymnal 1940 Companion 269). Laurence chooses a particularly emotionally resonant hymn to echo as Hagar has one of her most emotional experiences. Similarly, the 2002 edition of The Heath Anthology of American Literature mentions that Harriet Beecher Stowe wrote a hymn “that became famous” (Tompkins Volume 1 2476), but does not print it or name it as “Still, still with Thee, when purple morning breaketh,” based on Psalm 39:18 (“Still”). The volume does contain the words to Julia Ward Howe's “Battle Hymn of the Republic” (2800), and the “Songs of Slaves” section includes some spirituals such as “Go Down, Moses” (Tompkins Volume 1 2793–9). An introduction and six metrical Psalms represent The Bay Psalm Book in the 2006 Heath Anthology, Volume A (423–33). A Canadian anthology, Literature in English (1993) offers several hymns: nine verses of Isaac Watts's “Man Frail, and God Eternal” (“O God Our Help in Ages Past”) (500), five verses of Charles Wesley's “In Temptation” (“Jesu Lover of My Soul) (587), four verses of Augustus Montague Toplady's “A Living and Dying Prayer for the Holiest Believer in the World” (“Rock of Ages”) (684), and three verses of John Henry Newman's “The Pillar and the Cloud” (“Lead, Kindly Light”) (893). Thus, even English majors, unless they were raised in a Protestant hymn-singing tradition, probably will not recognize allusions such as the line in Margaret Atwood's “Isis in Darkness”: “Change and decay in all around I see” (72), a quote from the hymn “Abide with Me” that, among other effects, injects a clash of cultures into a story based on the Egyptian myth of Isis and Osiris.

3. In fact, Hagar has several epiphanies and moments when she repents and seeks forgiveness prior to the one evoked by Mr. Troy's singing. For example, she repents but does not act on her insight when she offends Doris: “I repent, curse my churlishness, want to take both her hands in mine and beg forgiveness, but if I did she'd believe me daft entirely” (SA 25); she grudgingly apologizes to Doris and the Matron (SA 86); she experiences a moment of understanding when talking to Lottie about their adult children who are in love (SA 189); she apologizes to her dead son (and Murray F. Lees accepts the apology), saying, “I could even beg God's pardon this moment” (SA 221); she apologizes to Lees (SA 225); she says she's “obliged” to Mrs Jardine and calls her “really kind,” blunting any irony by giving her first name (SA 243); she apologizes to the nurse and later does not want to upset her (SA 245, 252); and she lies to reassure Sandra Wong about surgery (SA 256–7). These moments of insight, repentance, apology, and kindness keep readers attached to Hagar while allowing hope for a more powerful epiphany that will bring her more insight. Laurence says that “I believe that faith must mean not only a holding on to but also a reaching out” (“Statement of Faith” 60, emphasis in original), something Hagar does towards many people before as well as after Mr. Troy sings. In “Faith and the Vocation of the Author” Lois Wilson notes that Laurence's novels “are realistic in the sense that the transformations and the setting free of people from all bondages remains a hope only, not an accomplishment” (161). As David Lucking writes, it would be “simplistic to argue for an unreservedly optimistic conclusion” of The Stone Angel (104).

4. Nora Foster Stovel states in Divining Margaret Laurence that hymns “frame Hagar's narrative,” asserting that “Unto the Hills” “prophesies her ultimate salvation” and “Old Hundredth” “catalyzes her epiphany” (199–200), more optimistic readings than I suggest. Stovel omits “Abide with Me,” which I include because it marks the nadir of Hagar's descent. Echoes from several other hymns not considered in my discussion above appear in The Stone Angel. See note 2 on the use of Cowper's “God Moves in a Mysterious Way” and Newman's “Lead, Kindly Light.” Comeau associates Hagar's granddaughter Christina with Christ (69)—a female deity for a feminist; not surprisingly, then, when Laurence chooses to have Christina give her grandmother perfume, it is “Lily of the Valley” (SA 28), an echo of Song of Solomon 2:1, where the image is used for the beloved, often associated retrospectively with Christ. The perfume's name also echoes the hymn “The Lily of the Valley” with words by Charles W. Fry, which first appeared in Salvation Army hymnal, The War Cry, published in 1881; Fry adapted music by William S. Hays to fit the hymn (“The Lily”). Fry and “his family band accompanied Salvation Army founder William Booth in evangelism campaigns” (“Charles William Fry”). Finding comfort in the gift, Hagar might acquiesce in the hymn's lines about “In sorrow He's my comfort, in trouble He's my stay,” but would hardly consent to “I have all for Him forsaken, and all my idols torn / From my heart and now He keeps me by His power” (“The Lily”). When Hagar quotes “His banner over me was love,” she cannot recall the source and then modifies it to “his banner over me was only his own skin” (SA 69–70). The hymn she is remembering, “His Banner over Me,” has two versions. The words by Gerald Massey reflect adult concerns that Hagar might relate to: “Its sword my spirit will not yield, / Though flesh may faint upon the field”; others she would no doubt reject: “He waves before my fading sight / The branch of palm,—the crown of light” (“His Banner over Me”). Long ago, Hagar might have learned the children's version of this hymn (see “His Banner Over Me is Love” in The Songbook). Sexual overtones in Song of Solomon 2:4, the biblical basis of this hymn, echo in Hagar's usage. Hagar lists a recording of “Ave Maria” among those she bought to play on her gramophone with money she earned by selling eggs (112). This prayer, set to music by Bach/Gounod, Brahms, and Schubert among others, combines the words of the angel to Mary at the Annunciation (Luke 1:28) and Elizabeth's greeting to Mary (Luke 1:42) with a prayer for Mary's intercession (Thurston). Laurence does not indicate which musical version Hagar owns, perhaps because the reminder of the text is more important. The words honoring a woman and motherhood support Laurence's and Hagar's concerns, and the prayer contains the motif of death. In addition, because Protestants find the request for Mary's intercession doctrinally unsound, listening to this record is an act of rebellion for Hagar. “I'll Be a Sunbeam” is a children's hymn written by Nellie Talbot: “Racking her brain for material for her Sunday school class in rural Missouri, she thought to herself, ‘How can you say there's nothing to teach about when you have the sun and the sky and the trees and the flowers!’” Verses not quoted include lines about trying to please Jesus, being “pleasant and happy,” and being “loving / and kind to all I see” (“I'll Be a Sunbeam”). Elva Jardine sarcastically misquotes the second line of the hymn, singing “And a heck of a sunbeam am I,” but stops, acknowledging, “That's just being smart-alecky” (SA 241). Like Hagar, this frail woman in the hospital for multiple surgeries fights against conventional responses to old age and illness. She is not senile although she sings a children's hymn, and her profane version honestly describes her situation. I have been unable to find references to the tabernacle-style hymn, “Dip Your Hands,” which Hagar calls “an unpleasant hymn” when Murray F. Lees sings it “gustily, in a voice breathless with laughter” (SA 202). The hymn is probably based on imagery from Leviticus in which the priest is instructed to dip fingers in the sacrificial blood and sprinkle blood for cleansing from sin (see for example Leviticus 4:17). Nora Foster Stovel characterizes tabernacle hymns as “passionate, celebrating vengeance and violence” (“Temples” 6). The scenes in the hospital have Mrs. Dobereiner sing snatches of two German secular songs about sadness (in contrast with Mr. Troy's hymn about rejoicing), “Die Lorelei” and “Der Lindenbaum” (SA 229, 251) in a voice “like the high thin whining of a mosquito” (SA 251). Her words on page 245, which translate “My God, deliver me from my pains” may be from a Psalm, or perhaps merely reflect her personal prayer. On Laurence's use of “Die Lorelei” (SA 93) see David Williams's essay, “Jacob and the Demon.”

5. Canadian students may recognize the Psalm if not the hymn. A verse rendering by Mary Sidney Herbert, Countess of Pembroke, and the King James Bible translation of the Psalm appear in Literature in English (212 and 251).

6. In her autobiography, Laurence mentions that when the publishers objected to Hagar as the title of the book we know as The Stone Angel, “I read the Psalms again, hoping I would find a title there” (Dance 163). Although a Psalm is not ultimately the source of the title, Laurence's turning to the Psalms for a title suggests how much they were echoing in her mind as she wrote the book and as she chose two hymns based closely on Psalms to illuminate key moments in Hagar's life.

7. “All People that on Earth Do Dwell” is aptly chosen to reinforce what George Woodcock calls Hagar's “choleric temperament,” which he sees revealed especially in the “attachment Hagar showed to earth”: “the novel as a whole is instinct with the most sensual awareness of the earth's surface, its creatures (animal or vegetable), of its colours and textures and smells” (20).

8. Hans Hauge asserts that “The Stone Angel is a re-evaluation of nineteenth century Protestantism” (126), a rehabilitation of Canada's Protestant past” (128). My assertion differs: in Hagar's engagement with hymns the novel demonstrates what Protestantism originally meant and encompasses its changing traditions.

9. Community, joining with others, was a key concept in Laurence's life. In Heart of a Stranger she writes, “Those Christmases at Elm Cottage had a feeling of real community. For me, this is what this festival is all about—the sense of God's grace, and the sense of our own family and extended family, the sense of human community” (221).

10. Woodcock calls “and then” “Hagar's last expectant thought,” implying she sees a positive afterlife (50), “the great peace beyond life” (46). Near the end of her own life, Laurence told Lois Wilson, a former Moderator of the United Church of Canada, that death is “as natural an event as birth. The two are the beginning and the end of life. … My sense of what happens in that kind of transformation is something I can't define, any more than I can define God. Because it is a mystery” (155); Wilson comments, “we spoke, too, of resurrection as not being the resuscitation of a corpse, but about God whose power transforms despair to hope and death to life” (155).