I am a long-time admirer of the late Willa Cather's work and have read nearly all of her books. Some of her most enduring classics of the American experience are My Ántonia and Death Comes for the Archbishop. Her descriptions of the natural world and the settings of her books are beautifully composed, simple and spare yet evocative and transporting. Though her work appeared a century ago and before, it does not feel dated, perhaps because of that exquisite prose – she doesn't waste a word.
The Song of the Lark (published 1915) follows an ambitious young woman from a small Colorado town who goes to Chicago and abroad to Germany to pursue a career as a pianist and piano teacher, but eventually emerges as a professional opera singer, an unusual (and inspiring) life choice for a woman of her time.
I encountered Cather briefly as an English major in the mid 70s, but discovered more of her work when there was a series of paperback reissues in the 80s. Since then, I have been collecting vintage hardcover editions of her work. It's always a thrill to come across one in a used bookstore.
Cather always struck me as brave and independent, a role model from a far more repressed era, and some academics seem to think that Thea, the singer, might have represented Cather herself, though in a different profession. The Willa Cather Center in Red Cloud, Nebraska, is dedicated to her life and work. https://www.willacather.org
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