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Teacher

Teacher TEACHER/Romw/ws Linney IN SUMMER, 1952, 1 was having the normal nervous breakdown of a confused young actor who didn't see commercial stardom in his future and didn't know what the purpose of his life could possibly be besides summer stock. I went to Appalachia to spend the summer like Hans Castorp, on a magic mountain. The town was Boone, North Carolina, a popular place now, in the fashion of Woodstock, but then still the small town that had been even more remote a generation before. I had lived there between the ages of one and four, in a large, white house on a hill in the center of the town, with my father's relations all gathered together to escape the ravages of the Depression. Now, twenty years later, I had come back. As I said, I was having a nervous breakdown, but it didn't last long. Shortly after I arrived, I was told by my favorite cousin, Margaret Coffey, who ran the house, to stop sitting on the porch brooding and do something. There was a college in Boone; why not take a course? I did, and my blundering about in folklore began, launching me directly into the http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png The Missouri Review University of Missouri

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Publisher
University of Missouri
Copyright
Copyright © The Curators of the University of Missouri.
ISSN
1548-9930
Publisher site
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Abstract

TEACHER/Romw/ws Linney IN SUMMER, 1952, 1 was having the normal nervous breakdown of a confused young actor who didn't see commercial stardom in his future and didn't know what the purpose of his life could possibly be besides summer stock. I went to Appalachia to spend the summer like Hans Castorp, on a magic mountain. The town was Boone, North Carolina, a popular place now, in the fashion of Woodstock, but then still the small town that had been even more remote a generation before. I had lived there between the ages of one and four, in a large, white house on a hill in the center of the town, with my father's relations all gathered together to escape the ravages of the Depression. Now, twenty years later, I had come back. As I said, I was having a nervous breakdown, but it didn't last long. Shortly after I arrived, I was told by my favorite cousin, Margaret Coffey, who ran the house, to stop sitting on the porch brooding and do something. There was a college in Boone; why not take a course? I did, and my blundering about in folklore began, launching me directly into the

Journal

The Missouri ReviewUniversity of Missouri

Published: Oct 5, 1998

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