Chapter 12: Quality and Equality
This chapter’s title is puzzling, and I didn’t even begin to understand it until the next chapter. I still don’t fully understand it, and I invite your thoughts. But I do think the fact that Wyoming is “The Equality State” is relevant here. The reason for the moniker is that Wyoming was the first state where women had the right to vote, and the first state to have a female governor.
We begin the chapter back in Bennington, Vermont, Molly’s home town, where her relatives and friends are puzzling over one of her letters. “’You have no idea,’ it said, ‘how delightful it is to ride, especially on a spirited horse, which I can do now, quite well.’” The letter did not say with whom she rode, and so Molly’s mother wrote back for Molly to seek and accept the advice of the woman who invited her out to Wyoming, not knowing that the woman lived so far away that Molly only saw her once every few months.
A trunkful of books was sent out to Molly by Christmas time, so her riding companion, who was (you guessed it) the Virginian, began to receive books regularly from Molly.
The first one that he likes is a Russian novel. It does not say which one it is but, about the book TV says, “’That young come-outer, and his fam’ly that can’t understand him—for he is broad gauge yu’ see, and they are narro’ gauge.’” Blushing, he confesses to Molly that he “pretty near cried” when the “come-outer” died. So, I’m guessing this is Dostoevsky. But which book?
Molly and TV are paused in one of their frequent rides, listening to the meadowlark “when its song fell upon the silence like beaded drops of music.” And then he speaks of love. She begs him not to, but also asks him to continue taking her for rides. “’Yu’ might as well ask fruit to stay green.’” He replies. Finally she says that if he must continue speaking of his love, she will listen, nothing more or less, and he accepts it. But soon he will be going away on an adventure to oversee the shipment and sale of Judge Henry’s cows.
Looking at her Virginian, Molly can’t decide the color of his eyes. “Sometimes when she had been looking from a rock straight down into clear sea water, this same color had lurked in its depths. ‘Is it green, or is it gray?’ she asked herself.” It’s the same way with my Virginian too. His eyes are what are called hazel, and they seem to change with the color of sweater he is wearing or his mood.