Appearing primarily in the first, Southern section of Cane, trains and their tracks represent the wish (and in some cases the ability) to escape the South and all that it entails, from the overt violence of lynchings to the quieter violence of segregation and Jim Crow laws. Living near the train tracks ironically and cruelly emphasizes the ways in which Becky and Fern are trapped by their situations and the disapproval of their communities. Tellingly, the narrator of “Fern” has his last glimpse of the beautiful woman from the window of his northbound train. As a Northerner, he can visit Georgia and stay as long as he likes, then—unlike Fern—leave when it suits him and return to what the book implies is a much more comfortable and privileged (although still imperfect) existence there.
Train Quotes in Cane
Her eyes, if it were sunset, rested idly where the sun, molten and glorious, was pouring down between the fringe of pines. Or maybe they gazed at the gray cabin on the knoll from which an evening folk-song was coming. Perhaps they followed a cow that had been turned loose to roam and feed on cotton-stalks and corn leaves. Like as not they’d settle on some vague spot above the horizon, though hardly a trace of wistfulness would come to them. If it were dusk, then they’d wait for the search-light of the evening train which you could see miles up the track before it flared across the Dixie Pike, close to home. Wherever they looked, you’d follow them and then waver back. Like her face, the whole countryside seemed to flow into her eyes. Flowed into them with the soft listless cadence of Georgia’s South.