Now
what you aimin to do up hyar?
What do ye think youre gonna find?
Stranger, what did ye say yer name was?
And whar did you say you was gwine?
— From The Outlander Meets the Native on Daniel
Gores CD Ways That Are Dark
When I blundered onto an advertisement for this CD in a catalogue
issued by the University of Tennessee Press, my heart went pitty-pat.
According to the promotion material, the recording was a musical
companion to Horace Kepharts Our Southern Highlanders.
Specifically, the majority of the 14 songs were inspired by episodes
in Kepharts book. I immediately envisioned wondrous music
by banjo, fiddle, guitar and mandolin — something that captured
the essence of the Great Smokies. I was almost right.
Essentially, the songs deal with the following: Kepharts arrival
in the Deep Creek section of Swain County in the early 1900s (The
Outlander Meets the Native); Kepharts meeting with a
near-mythical pig (The Pig Belial); a mournful, shape-note,
religious composition written by Singing Billy Walker
in 1831 (French Broad); Kepharts meeting with
a dangerous federal agent called Mr. Quick (The
Snakestick Man); Mr.Quicks unsuccessful pursuit of three
bootleggers (A Sugarland Raid); the escape of a bootlegger
from the Swain County jail (Bucks Exit); a murder
ballad (The Killing of Hol Rose); a clan feud cum Bonnie
and Clyde ballad (courting a Feud); Kepharts trek
into the wilderness with the bear hunters (A Dream of Bear);
a rollicking banjo tune for hard-drinking bear hunters (Did
You Ever See the Devil?) Kepharts prophetic warning
about the coming of trains (The March of the Leviathan);
the title song which celebrates moonshine and mystery (Ways
That are Dark), and a song that eulogizes high peaks in the
Smokies and their attendant ravens (Noah Freed the Raven First).
The liner notes are profusely illustrated — in addition to
reproducing all of the lyrics, the notes are packed with old photographs
of cabins, settlers, bear hunters and stills. In addition, the significant
folks are there: Kephart, Quill Rose, Mr. Quick (and his snakestick).
In fact, the cramping of photos, words, illustrations and acknowledgments
makes for difficult reading (lyrics imprinted on duotone photographs,
illustrations, etc.)
Certainly the subjects are diverse and provocative, and the actual
music is wonderful. The banjo, guitar, fiddle and mandolin blend
in a magical harmony and all of the songs, regardless of the quality
of the lyrics, evoke the best of that high, lonesome sound
of the Appalachians.
Unfortunately, the same cannot be said of the lyrics. The most lovingly
rendered selection, French Broad, rings with authenticity.
It is the only piece not written by Daniel Gore. With a few rare
exceptions, such as The Pig Belial, which is a lively,
quirky piece, the words are too literate. For example,
Noah Freed the Raven First, actually makes a literal
reference to Poes Raven and Nevermore. Material
like that may demonstrate the composers sophistication, but
(for me) they are painfully at odds with the regions traditional
language. When regional (and archaic) language is used it merely
sounds pretentious — the use of pop-skull and
cutty sark, for example. (The overly crowded liner notes
also sport a lexicon of terms used in the lyrics.)
Certainly, the multi-talented Daniel Gore did some impressive research
in preparing this collection. There are references (and blurbs)
from Karl Nicholas, a WCU professor who did a book on Appalachian
dialect; George Frizzell at WCUs Hunter Library; the Folklife
Room in Washington, D.C.; and the UNC Library at Chapel Hill, as
well as an awesome list of gratitude to relatives, ancestors and
the rest of mankind.
Perhaps the use of language that seems at odds with the culture
is a minor defect. Certainly, Ways That are Dark has
much to recommend it otherwise — especially the musical skill
of Craig Smith, Rickie Simpkins, Jack Lawrence and Tony Williamson.
In conclusion, I am prompted to note that while moonshine, mountain
feuds, and bear hunting are vital parts of Appalachian culture,
they are not the only ones. Certainly, they are the ones that seem
to enthrall observers, including Kephart. I am not suggesting that
they should be omitted from all literature that undertakes the task
of reflecting Appalachian culture with both authenticity and integrity,
but their singular prominence merely augments the stereotypes that
already thrive.