This is an essay about Suttree. The first half of this essay is an analysis of the narration in Suttree. This analysis attempts to pin down the point of view. The second half of the essay is dedicated to answering the question of why Suttree makes me cry. By the end of its first half, the essay concludes that the concept "narrator" is a paradigm that does not apply to Suttree. The second half of the essay tries to move from analysis to intuition in hope of finding an alternative paradigm to "narrator." The essay begins by stating constraints and premises. The constraints are a list of topics this essay will not discuss. The premises are my (at times tentative) understanding of what happens in the novel.
Here are the constraints. This is not an essay about Suttrees author Cormac McCarthy. This essay does not deal with evidence that Suttree is autobiographical. This essay is not concerned with other novels by Cormac McCarthy. This essay is also not concerned with any other texts that Suttree echoes, including the Bible. This essay is not interested in the distinction between modern and postmodern and will not return to this point. This is not a dismissal -- these constraints are regrettable. These topics all shed light on the novel and are all worthy of other essays. However, this essay is not concerned with anything outside the novel except me. One of the things that impresses me about the novel is that I love it. Love is idiosyncratic. Thus the reasons I love Suttree are situated not within the novel but within me, and, furthermore, within me this slow Spring of 1997. For this reason, this essay is written in the first person and the second half is as indulgent as the first half is precise.
Here are my premises. These premises are my conclusions regarding confusing aspects of the novel. When possible, I provide page numbers that correspond to the evidence from which these conclusions are drawn. My pagination refers to the First Vintage International Edition, May 1992, although other editions may have identical pagination. Cornelius "Buddy" Suttree is an unambitious (on 68 he shows no interest in adjusting to the demands of the marketplace, on 222 he disposes of extremely effective bait because he cant stand its smell) fisherman of unknown age (my guess is late 20s or early 30s) who lives in a houseboat. He has one (living) brother Carl (17) and at least two sisters (130, 421). His parents are living and he avoids all contact with them (on 299 he throws away a letter from his father without reading it). He was raised Catholic (251, 253). He also avoids contact with his wife and child, whom he abandoned. In 1950, Suttree is arrested as an accomplice in a pharmacy robbery (321). He serves a (ten or so month) sentence in the workhouse and is released in January 1951. (The fact that Suttrees charges are revealed to the (alert) reader 220 pages after he has finished serving his sentence should indicate the level of ambiguity that renders this summary necessary.) When Suttree is released, he buys a houseboat, is given two fishing lines strung in the Tennessee River, and lives a hand-to-mouth existence selling catfish and carp, sometimes drum or gar (199). He is college educated (47). He has a reputation for being smart (366), but the only evidence of this is we see that he knows what "yeggs" means (235). (Whether any of the verbose narration can be attributed to Suttree is a question I will return to.) His fathers side of the family, which he detests, is wealthy and powerful. His mothers side, for which he has some fleeting sympathy, is generally lower middle class and inclined toward alcoholism. The novel and the story begin on a summer Sunday in Knoxville 1951 about six months after Suttree is released from the workhouse. By defining the chronology of the novel this way, I am also defining pages 30-62 as a flashback to a previous time (as well as a leap to a different place and point of view). This flashback spans a duration of about four months and ends near January 1st, 1951. Page 63 is the Monday following the Sunday described on 8 through 29. When Suttree, on page 70, addresses J-Bone, Boneyard, and Hoghead with "You sons of bitches havent been to bed," this indicates that the three have been drinking continuously for the 20 or so hours that have elapsed since page 22, having gone through at least two bottles of whiskey before beginning the awful night of drinking that ends with Suttree hungover in jail. The rest of my premises regarding chronology, point of view, and location are less uncertain. They are included as appendices.
I have chosen to study the narration of Suttree because it creates three contradictions. The first contradiction is between the language of the narration and that of the characters. I assume this contradiction is apparent to anyone who makes it as far as page 12. My second epigraph is an excellent example of what I mean. My second epigraph, if read carefully, also reveals a less obvious contradiction between types of language within the narration. The description of the dead bats is different than the description of the policeman. This essay will return to this point at the end of its first half. The second apparent contradiction is between the narration and the story. Again, a lexically lush and grammatically complex narration narrates a bleak, desolate, and fairly uninteresting story. It is not that Suttree is an uninteresting character, its even worse. Suttree is an uninteresting character and this is the least interesting period of his life. This is the part Suttree would skip when telling the story of his life: how he went to prison then lay drunk on the river for four years in the transition between abandoning his family and abandoning his home town. The story has an archaic, mythic quality, yet the characters are neither noble nor heroic. None of the characters seem to have any consequence on the world outside Knoxville. Nor do they have much consequence within the novel: it has no plot. It is a series of overlapping anecdotes, most of which do not affect the anecdotes that follow. I find a third contradiction between the first 277 pages of the book and the last 196 pages. The first half of the novel is structurally complex and features Gene Harrogate as a central character. In the first 277 pages, the point of view passes between Gene and Suttree. The manner in which the point of view is transferred is complex in that sometimes a shift from one point of view to another may also indicate a shift backward in time. This is the case on pages 30, 107, 269, and 274. This transfer, although confusing, is consistent in that the point of view is almost entirely limited to those two. In the second half of the book, Gene ceases to be a central character, and there are no chronologic regressions. The point of view is Genes only twice, and time only moves forward. In one respect, these two "halves" of the book actually are halves they each span about 23 months, although the first 23 months lasts 80 more pages than the second 23 months. Unlike the first two contradictions, this third contradiction is a contradiction within the narration, not a contradiction between the narration and another aspect of the book.
A conventional understanding of narration assumes a single narrator who is a human presence as consistent as, although perhaps on a different diagetic level from, the characters. (The difference in "diagetic levels" is the difference between being a character in the story and telling it.) Although conventional narrators are frequently not characters, they tend to have consistent relationships to the characters and events in the story. The narrator is oriented to the story in a particular way and this does not change. Henceforth I will refer to this relationship or orientation as narrative "distance." Three ways narrative distance manifests itself are tense, person, and access to information. A story in the past tense indicates that the narrator is referring back to it from a future point, and thus knows how it will end. The narrative distance in this case is a longer than the distance between a narrator and a story in the present tense. A first person narrator is frequently a character in the story. In this case the narrative distance between narrator and story is smaller than the distance between a third person narrator and a story. Access to information refers to the narrators ability to know information characters do not. Such information can include the thoughts of one or more characters (including motivations that the characters themselves are unaware of), future events, and events taking place undetected elsewhere in the setting. When the narrators are characters in the story, frequently they have access to their own thoughts but not those of other characters. For the purposes of this essay, a narrator with a greater degree of omniscience is considered to be more distant from the story than a less omniscient narrator (the farther away you are the more you can see).
None of these three aspects of narration tense, person, and access remain consistent in Suttree. The narrative distance oscillates in these respects and others. The concept "narrator" does not apply well here. It is difficult to accept the narration as either a character in the story or omniscient. This oscillation is not obvious when reading the novel because so much else remains consistent. Because the narration follows almost exclusively Suttree through time from past to future with occasional jumps forward, the fact that it shifts between past and present tense is not jarring. Because most of the scenes center around Suttree, the manner in which it leaps in and out of his head is not confusing. The majority of the book is written as if by an invisible observer to Suttrees actions. However, the narration occasionally discloses information Suttree does not have access to. There are scenes without Suttree. There is one scene at the beginning (30) from the point of view of a character Suttree does not meet until 435 pages and five years later (465). Occasionally the narration will lapse into the first or second person, as if representing a characters thoughts or addressing a character or both. Most of the scenes happen in chronological order, with ellipses (leaps forward in time to the subsequent scene). At one point the narration reveals knowledge of the future events to come within the story and even well after.
This essay will next list moments of inconsistency in tense, person, and access.
The narration is almost entirely past tense. However, it has a tendency to slide into present tense throughout the book. This does not mean that the story suddenly leaps from the past to the present. The verb tense typically changes to present for one or two events in the middle of a sequence of past events. The distance between the narration and the story shrinks at these moments. This tense shift functions as a sort of narrative zoom lens the distance only appears to get smaller. Many, but not all, of these lapses into present tense can be accounted for by a particular favored sentence construction using "must." Here are four examples:
"Finally he had to stop to rest" would make more sense.
What you got in the sack son? (215)
Quite similarly, "yet he had to still rest" would be more consistent.
Again, "had to take him by one elbow" would be more consistent, and likewise "Shed sewn him up " Notice how, in this example, a previous event is described with the present perfect tense ("Shes") and a subsequent event is described with the past tense ("could") (He could not bend because she has sewn him up like a hound).
In this example, the "must" sentence functions as a bridge into the present tense. The subsequent sentences continue in the present as the narrative zoom lens zooms in on the photo album. They sentences would be consistent if they went "They had a burnt look to them" and "peered out." There are other examples of this "must" formation as well (102, 383). I assume that these instances of present tense are due to a preference for "must." This novel has other consistent style quirks as well its own grammar. For example, the comparison "like some," or the use of "nor" without "neither." There are examples of lapses into the present tense, however, without using "must":
"It has covered" is present prefect. It would have been consistent with the past tense to use past perfect: "It had covered." The effect of this shift in tense is a diminishing of the narrative distance it is as if this 1954 snowfall were happening now. The snowfall is given immediacy. It becomes more vivid. Another, clearer example of an illogical shift into present tense can be found in the following:
The shift back into past tense is subtle. The moment of return is the choice of "used" over "uses." Because the passage is describing a sequence of events in order, they retain their sequence and seem to remain in the past even though the tense shifts into present. However, what purpose does the shift here serve? In this passage, as in the last, the distance is shortened. We are momentarily drawn into the monotony of these days. The present tense suggests that these days may continue for ever. The past tense would have suggested that they ended long ago. There are other lapses into present tense on 254, 351 and 381.
Suttrees narration also contains inexplicable shifts in person. As with the shifts in tense, certain examples of the shifts in person can be attributed to a particular style quirk using "you" instead of "he." Here are two examples:
It would be consistent with third person to instead say "he could hang his head " or even "one could hang ones head." As with the shifts into present tense, this shift into second person does not seem terribly odd. It also reduces the narrative distance and makes the car more seductive, as if we, as readers, could smell the leather.
In this example, the "you," technically, should only be "he [Suttree] couldnt tell what it meant." This is a fairly innocuous transgression of person, however. It happens again on 62, and 346. A much stranger example is the opening. Who is addressing whom in the following?:
This opening cannot be easily assimilated into the rest of the story. While it has a density prevalent throughout the narration, it is not narrating the story. Because it is set in italics it is visually distinct from the text. The only other italicized passage is the voice of a radio preacher (133-4). Aside from the shared italics, there is no other reason to believe that the opening passage is the voice of a radio preacher. The opening does not refer to any of the characters in the third person, and there is little to indicate that either the first or second person is meant to be one of the characters. Furthermore, while gorgeous, it is a misleading introduction. Its urgent eloquence sets the reader up for a dramatic suspense and terror-driven plot. It is hardly clear upon ones first reading that the opening is describing Knoxville 1951. Why the novel opens in the second person can be best explained by assuming that the narrator is addressing us (dear friend). Similarly, the novel ends in the second person: "Fly them." (471) While ambiguous, this sentence is imperative, with an implied subject of "you." More than the second person connects the opening and closing. They both refer to the huntsman.
The first person opening and closing frame the novel and can perhaps be considered outside it.
The use of first person in this closing is even more troubling. The fact of the first person in the narration strongly implies the existence of a "narrator." It does not seem to be Suttrees thought, even though elsewhere in the novel first person sentences do seem to be a transcript of Suttrees thoughts as he thinks about himself. Here are three examples:
It is clear the following passage is from Suttrees point of view as he is dragged out of a roadhouse drunk. The final sentences are Suttrees thoughts:
Other examples of Suttrees thoughts are no less overwrought:
At other moments, second person sentences seem to also be narration of Suttree thinking to himself.
The narration also demonstrates access to Suttrees thoughts, but in the third person:
All night hed try to see the child s face in his mind but he could not. (150)
Lastly, there are passages where the narration seems to relate Suttrees thoughts as he refers to himself in first, second, and third person:
The first person would appear to refer to Suttree in the first sentence of the second paragraph, and Suttrees father for the remainder of the paragraph. From the first person, Suttrees father addresses Suttree in the third person. If we assume that the transcript of the letter is being thought by Suttree, this assumption makes the drift less confusing but also assumes that Suttree has a good memory.
A paragraph later Suttree slides from third to first to second person:
With "with whom you [Suttree] shared your mothers belly," either Suttree is having an internal dialogue, or the narrator is addressing him and, in his thoughts, Suttree replies. If the narrator is a presence other than Suttree addressing Suttree, and knows the name of the cemetery Suttrees stillborn brother is buried in, then either the narrator knows everything Suttree does or knows things Suttree does not. There is reason to believe that Suttree does not know his stillborn brother is buried in Woodlawn. His family kept the fact of the brother a secret from him (17-18). On the other hand, we have some reason to believe Suttree does know where his stillborn brother is buried he wakes up in Woodlawn cemetery:
Most importantly, only an omniscient narrator would know the name of the cemetery. If Suttree really thinks this way, then perhaps much of the narration can be attributed to his thoughts. And Suttree is supposed to be educated, so perhaps "isomers" is part of his vocabulary. But Suttree doesnt speak eloquently, he never writes, and he only reads books once in the entire novel (358) (despite frequently lying in bed awake during daylight hours) (he does, however, read newspapers (169, 401, 403, 404) and magazines (386)). Furthermore, there are enough moments when the narrator has access to information that Suttree does not, that it is clear that some of the narration cannot possibly be Suttrees thoughts. If the narration has access to Suttrees consciousness, then the absence of certain information is conspicuous. We dont learn what he was charged with until 321, and we dont learn he has a wife and child until 148. Finally, some examples of a shift in person cannot be explained by movements in and out of Suttrees consciousness, such as drift in scenes Suttree is not in:
Is this third sentence thought (or said) by Harrogate as he contemplates the poisoned rat? The narration is capable of accessing Genes thoughts, as is clear from 437. If the verbosity of the narration is somehow a reflection of Suttrees thoughts, then why is it present in scenes that Suttree is not in? Even if Suttree knows the word "warfarined," it is far less likely that Gene (who does not have a reputation for being smart) does.
The narration of Suttree occasionally demonstrates access to information none of the characters can know, such as events that happen in the future:
By the time the death of Holmes takes place, the novel is long over and Suttree has left Knoxville, presumably forever. Another example of narration accessing information Suttree is unlikely to know is the passage with Dr. Neal. Does Suttree know that the Lawyers pants fell down in the cafeteria line, or that he was "alone and friendless in a hundred courts?" This passage also indicates that narrative distance oscillates in ways other than shifts in tense, person, and access -- for example the way characters are referred to. Suttree addresses Dr. Neal as "Dr. Neal" at the same time the narrator refers to him as "a ragged gentleman," an "old tattered barrister, and "the old lawyer." (366-367) Similarly, Suttree refers to his uncle John as "John," while the narration consistently refers to him as "the uncle." In this manner, the narration maintains a distance from these two characters. In contrast, the narration will usually refer to Suttrees friends by bizarre nicknames without any description, orientation, or introduction.
The above paragraphs, in combination with the first appendix of this essay, demonstrate that Suttree has numerous lapses in a point of view which otherwise remains in the third person past tense observing Suttrees location. These lapses can often, but not always, be characterized as representing Suttrees thoughts in first, second, and third persons. The narration, however, ultimately has access to information Suttree does not, including entire scenes. In addition, the narrative distance telescopes in a way that makes identifying a narrator difficult, a difficulty exacerbated by the extremely odd style of the narration nobody in the novel would ever write, or speak or think this way.
This is the conclusion of the first half of the essay in which it returns to a point made in the fourth paragraph concerning the second epigraph. An alternative paradigm to "narrator" is "narrators." Above, I have demonstrated that the narration can be subdivided into different voices, which I then attempted without much success to ascribe to the thoughts of characters. But what if we approached this text with the assumption that there are several narrators who trade off frequently. In the example above the example above, in which Gene contemplates a dying rat, perhaps it is one of the narrators who chimes in "it must have been something you ate." Perhaps the entire narration is itself a collage of narrators, some verbose and written, some describing action, some providing colloquialisms such as "he gripped his fork in his fist in the best country manner and fell to." (313) Perhaps also each narrator has its own narrattee, and this is why the implied audience of the book is so difficult to pin down.
This is where the second half of the essay begins. In this half of the essay I will assume that all the above inconsistencies are intended to achieve an effect. This half of the essay describes the effect.
In the last example of inconsistent narrative distance the way most of the ninety or so characters are typically referred to without introduction as though they were already familiar to all (as compared to the way "the uncle" is introduced again each time he is mentioned and is not allowed to become familiar) the inconsistency has a consistent effect. In this case, the effect is to contrast Suttrees alienation from lawyer and uncle (his family) to his familiarity with (his friends) Bucket, Gatemouth, J-Bone, Hoghead, Trippin Through the Dew, Ulysses and many other plausibly and implausibly named characters who pass through the novel unintroduced. The narrations inconsistent access also achieves certain effects. One of the effects is that the narrator gives an impression of knowing the story very well. Also, the narrator gives the impression that we know the story well, as though we knew all these people and only their names are necessary to bring them to mind. Similarly, it was never necessary to explain Suttrees background we already know it. It only takes a photo album to bring all those relatives to mind. The mythic quality of the narration also makes the story seem as familiar as a legend. Suttree has passed by word of mouth for generations, accumulating embellishments until it become an encyclopedia of every rude joke of the era.
Is this why Suttree makes me cry: because it makes me feel like Ive lived there? Both the narrative closeups and the absence of introduction bring me into the story. I am oriented to the story as though it were my own old memories retold. That is not entirely why it makes me cry. It also has to do with the story I am drawn into.
Suttree lives in a world of drunkenness, poverty, violence, garbage, sewage, and cruel police. He seems strangely content or aimless or both. The fact of his having fallen is all that we know about his fall. His family regards him as a "nasty, vicious person." (19) Immediately before this, this nasty vicious person has just delivered a catfish to a sullen homeless person eating dirty beans and burnt potatoes. Suttree has given up a life of privilege in order to pay attention to people. Suttree cant fight (52, 161), and should be afraid to frequent the neighborhood he does, but isnt. Suttree is afraid of violence, not people. It is my belief that Suttree doesnt think: a hyperactive narrator ascribes the most ridiculous thoughts to him. Suttree cares about people. But why not his wife and child? Obviously he does care about them: he went to the funeral and cried. As to why he left them? This question is the vacuum at the center of the novels cyclone. Suttree, his narrators, and his readers all share a collective denial of the bad thing Suttree did. The effect of this is to make me feel that Suttrees background is something we are all trying to avoid thinking about. I think he left them because, as a married father, Suttree would have had to become a character. He would step right into a narrative, until death do them part. His friends would all know his first name. He would have an address, an occupation. His family would bother him and expect him to celebrate holidays. If he ever managed to visit the ragpicker, it would only be to momentarily soothe his aching class consciousness.
Suttree could not be a husband because he is not a character. He has dropped out of narrative. So Suttree drifts. He is a grit of irritation around which no pearl must form. Suttree only exists in the presence of others who like him. Suttree requires a variety of people so that no single impression of him may dominate. When alone with nobody to talk to, the language closes in on him and takes him to someplace strange in his head where his stillborn brother is the only family he ever felt for.
Compare the following two passages offering conspicuous glimpses of Suttrees thoughts at two very different times:
Suttree has it all and has become indifferent. He is rich and bored. He thinks about buying a car. He has a romantic taxiride through snowcovered mountains sipping whiskey with icicles and screwing and this romantic scene is not entirely touching. After he has walked out of Joyces story, he resumes drifting:
Suttree does not wear a suit and tie of glass but instead wanders naked. He lives in a shack with holes in the wall riding the currents of Knoxville excrement. He has sunk to the bottom, refusing to be one of those clawing for air. He has left a house too horrifying to name. He is Catholic and has hangups. When they fall at all, they fall directly to hell. So Suttree has forsaken being a character, and he is not what the novel is about.
The novel is about McAnally Flats, death, and the fossils left in limestone where lower creatures died along the muddy riverbanks. It is a historical document recording life in this accidental tidal pool of stagnant culture. It is a scrapbook, a compendium of whiskeytalk. It is the memories nobody lived long enough to have. It is about how America eats his poor. Does the novel, with its dropdead beautiful prose, glorify poverty? Is the novel even about poverty? There is hardly a wealthy person in it. Joyce is the wealthiest character, and she is a criminal. Can a novel be about poverty without displaying the difference and relationship between rich and poor? It is racist, misogynist, and homophobic, but in what ways is it classist?
And why do I find affirmation in it? Is it because I am a white kid who has led a sheltered life and the novel allows me to indulge a sort of voyeurism into poverty without losing for a second my pretensions of erudition through the vehicle of an unobtrusive character whom we only know is a white collegeboy whose life has heretofore been sheltered? Is it because I dont love women, homosexuals, or blacks? It might be because I enjoy novels about alcoholism and heroin addiction. Suttree is not an alcoholic. He shares his last beers (even with Reese who does not share everything he has tucked away). He turns down whiskey (albeit of dubious quality) at least twice. Also, unlike Harvey, he doesnt go visiting relatives in the middle of the night screaming for liquor. Suttree is not an alcoholic, hes just drunk.
Suttree is about love, a flower growing along railroad tracks through whatever miracle renders cinders arable. The novel lavishes every gorgeous word in four centuries of English upon characters who do not expect it. The novel is written to an audience who already knows its stories, but who wants them retold in the loveliest manner possible. It is about Suttree taking the ragpicker and the goatman catfish, about Suttree offering beer to Michael, Gene, Harvey, and buying fishbowls for J-Bone, Hoghead, Bucket, Red, and Cabbage. It is about listening to Daddy Watsons stories, and shaking hands with Trippin Through the Dew. It is about refusing $20 from Clayton and dinner from Aunt Martha. It is about the first cold day of winter, visiting the ragpicker, Gene, and Daddy Watson, making sure they aint froze. It is even about saving the country mouses life and not letting them cover Reds face until he has finally died. How Suttree found his own corpse in bed. It is about condoms like leeches, fish like dogs, rats like beetles, lice like lizards, hogs like quail, flies like cats, rats like cats, and cats like cats.
Index of Scenes
Select Index of Characters
Ab Jones 107-108, 201-205, 223, 225-226, 230-231, 266, 278-282
Aunt Beatrice 452
B L 110
Bearhunter 73-80, 189
Big Frig 192, 456
Bill Tilson 299
Billy Ray Callahan, Red 23, 46-54, 73-80, 184-189, 370-371, 452, 456,
Billy Rays mother 377
Blind Richard 72-75, 168-169, 296-297, 368-373, 386, 456
Blind Walter 68, 299
Bobby Davis 452, 456
Bobbyjohn 23, 26, 301
Bobbyjohns old crazy uncle 384-385
Boneyard 70-80, 189
Mr. Brannam 300
Bucket 23, 189, 246, 301, 384
Byrd Slusser 48-54, 226, 456
Cabbage 73-80, 183-187
Charlie Callahan 377
Clarence Raby 416
Cleo 176, 274
cops 29, 36, 83-84, 215-216, 383, 410-411, 440-442
Daddy Watson, railroader 192, 365, 434
Dick 298-299, 398
Doll 107-108, 112-113, 201-204, 226-227, 230-232, 368-371, 447
Dr Hauser 217-219
Dr. Neal, lawyer 366-367
Earl Solomon 185, 189, 381
Fred Cash 113
Gatemouth 110-112, 230
general 162-163, 455
Harrogate 189, 245, 457
Harry the Horse 299
Hatmaker 72-77, 456
Hoghead, James Henry 70-80, 109, 185, 189, 301, 384-385, 452, 456
Howard Clevinger 111-112, 164-167, 412, 467
huntsman 5, 471
Jabbo 110-112, 165-167
Jake 104-105, 300, 401
J D Davis 189
J-Bone, Jim Long 70-80, 148, 170, 183-187, 189, 237, 246, 254, 298-302, 384, 398, 450-451
Jellyroll, The Jellyroll Kid 235-237
Jimmy the Greek 70-71, 168-170
Jimmy Smith 21, 27, 266, 452
Jo Jo 169
John Clancy 15, 78, 109, 192
Junior Long 22-27, 109, 374, 384
junkman, Harvey 208-210, 264-269, 365, 386, 416, 456
Kenneth Hazelwood, Worm 26-27, 73-78, 416
Kenneth Tipton 185-186, 236
Leithal King 52-53
Little Robert 430
Lonas Ray Caughorn 416
Maggeson, the rubber baron 65, 107, 109, ?
Miss Aldrich 190-192
Mother She 65, 145, 226-230, 278-282
Mr. Turner 67-68, 220-221
Mrs. Long 82-83, 109, 295-298
Oceanfrog Frazer 110-113, 166-167, 368, 446-447
Paul McCulley 185-186
ragpicker (Hooper?) 115, 193
Richard Harper 384
Rufus Wiley 140-143, 176-177, 270-274, 419, 435
Sam Slusser 226
Smokehouse 200-205, 245, 369
Stud 300, 401
Tarzan Quinn 226, 281, 301, 430
Thersites, the eunuch, the madman 66, 105-106, 111, 412, 469
Tom Clancy 192
Trippin Through The Dew 110-112, 145, 146, 412, 467-468
turtlehunter 119-120, 455
Ulysses 169-170, 300-301, 401
Wallace Humphrey 384