The Burial of the Guns — A Closer Reading

Customs as Relics of War

The catalog entry lists 'United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century' as a subject, but the excerpts show customs that are explicitly shaped by the Civil War. In 'My Cousin Fanny,' the grandmother's defiance of Tarleton's troopers during the Revolution is recalled, but the present-day decay of Woodside is a direct result of the war: 'During the war the place... suffered greatly.' The narrator's comment that 'we do not keep Christmas now as we used to' implies that the war disrupted traditions. Similarly, in 'Miss Dangerlie's Roses,' the characters' conversations about roses and engagements occur in a social setting that feels fragile, with references to 'the great pork man' and 'the son of the great Router' suggesting new money and shifting hierarchies. The customs are not timeless; they are haunted by conflict.

Objects and Their Emotional Weight

Page uses objects to carry emotional and historical significance. In 'My Cousin Fanny,' the grandmother's 'large scissors' and 'basket of old communion-plate' are not just props but symbols of resistance and heritage. The house itself—'a large brick edifice, with a pyramidal roof, covered with moss'—is described in detail, but its condition ('somewhat out of repair') mirrors the family's decline. In 'Miss Dangerlie's Roses,' the roses are not mere flowers; they are tied to memory and association. Floyd says, 'I know an old garden up at an old country-place, where my mother used to live as a girl,' and he insists on bringing roses from that garden. The act of giving roses becomes a way of preserving a past that is slipping away. These objects are not just customs; they are tangible links to a lost world.

Dialogue as a Window into Social Codes

The excerpts reveal that Page's stories rely heavily on dialogue to convey social dynamics. In 'Miss Dangerlie's Roses,' the conversation between Floyd and Miss Dangerlie is a dance of indirectness: 'Do you know who introduced me to you?' he asks, and she deflects. When Floyd mentions a rumor of her engagement, she responds with 'The idea! Engaged to Mr. Router!'—a line that shows both surprise and a need to maintain propriety. The dialogue is full of pauses and changes of subject, as when Miss Dangerlie 'buried her face in the roses' instead of answering directly. This style suggests that social customs are performed through language, with characters carefully managing what they say. The catalog subject 'Social life and customs' is thus enacted in the very texture of the dialogue, not just described.

Readers approaching this collection should attend to the gaps between what the catalog promises and what the text delivers. The stories are not straightforward depictions of 19th-century American life; they are meditations on how that life was remembered and reshaped after war. Pay attention to the objects, the dialogue, and the sense of loss that pervades even the most domestic scenes. The excerpts offer only fragments, but they suggest a work that is more about the aftermath of custom than custom itself.

That rainy afternoon, The Burial of the Guns kept me company, its quiet grief for a vanished Virginia settling into the room like the gray light outside. I found myself thinking about how we carry old codes into new silences. Later, rifling the shelf, I pulled down Round Robin — Text and Context, and felt that same peculiar warmth, as if both books were murmuring together.