Hyperbolic references to geologic history are a motif in the novel. For example, in Part 3, Chapter 1, the narrator describes winter in the Divide as if it were an ice age:
One could easily believe that in that dead landscape the germs of life and fruitfulness were extinct forever.
The landscape is not fully dead. The seasons will change within a matter of months, and the "germs of life and fruitfulness" will once more sprout. By exaggerating the climatic effects of winter, likening it to an extinction-level event, the narrator emphasizes just how oppressive the winters can be. This winter in particular is especially difficult for Alexandra because Carl and Emil have both left the Divide (at least for now), and her relationship with her two other brothers has reached a new level of strain. The feeling that she is living in an ice age applies to her social environment as well as her ecological environment.
In fact, instances of this motif in the novel almost always say something about how the human characters are feeling. In Part 1, Chapter 2, the narrator describes how the homesteads on the Divide blend into the landscape to the point that many are difficult to find:
The record of the plow was insignificant, like the feeble scratches on stone left by prehistoric races, so indeterminate that they may, after all, be only the markings of glaciers, and not a record of human strivings.
This passage suggests that the immigrants who have settled on the Divide are constantly struggling to make their mark on the land, and that the land resists their efforts. The narrator notes how "depressing and disheartening" it is to arrive in a new country and find no signs of human life. It is difficult to believe that there are no signs of human life on the Divide, but the narrator emphasizes the homesteaders' sense of futility by characterizing the land as so difficult to tame that "the record of the plow was insignificant."
Additionally, this passage and other instances of the motif both acknowledge and underplay the history of American Indian peoples in the region. The narrator likens the marks of the homesteaders' plows to "the feeble scratches left on stone by prehistoric races." This passing acknowledgment of other humans who have lived here before immediately places these other humans in "prehistory," and suggests that the "feeble scratches" they left on the place are now so ancient and faint that they are indistinguishable from the marks glaciers have left. In fact, from the 1830s, the Indian Removal policy made genocide and eviction of American Indian peoples from their ancestral lands into a top priority of the United States government. The homesteads on the Divide very recently had different human inhabitants. With this mythic language about "prehistoric races," Cather joins the ranks of many American writers who dealt with the uncomfortable realities of Indian Removal by imagining that all signs of American Indians on the land are in fact as ancient as geological formations. Ultimately, this language suggests that the homesteaders are the next group in line to make their natural mark on the land.
Apricots are a motif in the novel. They represent hope, joy, and comfort in difficult times. They first appear when Carl returns to the Divide in Part 2. Marie breaks off a branch of fruit and asks Carl if he planted the apricot trees. He confirms with Alexandra that they are indeed the "circus trees" they planted long ago. They reminisce together about the day they tried to go to the circus but did not have enough money. Dejected, they returned home.
On the way, they ran into a man selling apricots for just 25 cents a peck. They had enough money between them for three pecks. After enjoying the abundance of fruit, they planted all the seeds. It took until now for the trees to bear fruit. Carl is startled that the trees he gave up on years ago are now giving something back to him. Just as the cheap apricots offered consolation and abundance at a time when scarcity had denied Alexandra and Carl the pleasure of a day at the circus, the apricot trees welcome Carl home to the Divide and symbolize the still-living hope that this place might hold opportunity for him.
Later, in Part 3, Chapter 1, Marie hosts Alexandra and Mrs. Lee at her and Frank's house for the afternoon. She serves her guests apricot rolls, a Czech delicacy:
Marie took out a pan of delicate little rolls, stuffed with stewed apricots, and began to dust them over with powdered sugar.
Marie has been very unhappy of late on account of Emil's absence and Frank's abuse. She confesses to Alexandra that she had been crying the last time they spoke on the phone. But for now, Frank is out, and Marie is in the company of friends. The apricot rolls, for which she most likely used the very same apricots Alexandra and Carl once planted, represent a gentle grasp at normalcy and happiness in a dark time.
Hyperbolic references to geologic history are a motif in the novel. For example, in Part 3, Chapter 1, the narrator describes winter in the Divide as if it were an ice age:
One could easily believe that in that dead landscape the germs of life and fruitfulness were extinct forever.
The landscape is not fully dead. The seasons will change within a matter of months, and the "germs of life and fruitfulness" will once more sprout. By exaggerating the climatic effects of winter, likening it to an extinction-level event, the narrator emphasizes just how oppressive the winters can be. This winter in particular is especially difficult for Alexandra because Carl and Emil have both left the Divide (at least for now), and her relationship with her two other brothers has reached a new level of strain. The feeling that she is living in an ice age applies to her social environment as well as her ecological environment.
In fact, instances of this motif in the novel almost always say something about how the human characters are feeling. In Part 1, Chapter 2, the narrator describes how the homesteads on the Divide blend into the landscape to the point that many are difficult to find:
The record of the plow was insignificant, like the feeble scratches on stone left by prehistoric races, so indeterminate that they may, after all, be only the markings of glaciers, and not a record of human strivings.
This passage suggests that the immigrants who have settled on the Divide are constantly struggling to make their mark on the land, and that the land resists their efforts. The narrator notes how "depressing and disheartening" it is to arrive in a new country and find no signs of human life. It is difficult to believe that there are no signs of human life on the Divide, but the narrator emphasizes the homesteaders' sense of futility by characterizing the land as so difficult to tame that "the record of the plow was insignificant."
Additionally, this passage and other instances of the motif both acknowledge and underplay the history of American Indian peoples in the region. The narrator likens the marks of the homesteaders' plows to "the feeble scratches left on stone by prehistoric races." This passing acknowledgment of other humans who have lived here before immediately places these other humans in "prehistory," and suggests that the "feeble scratches" they left on the place are now so ancient and faint that they are indistinguishable from the marks glaciers have left. In fact, from the 1830s, the Indian Removal policy made genocide and eviction of American Indian peoples from their ancestral lands into a top priority of the United States government. The homesteads on the Divide very recently had different human inhabitants. With this mythic language about "prehistoric races," Cather joins the ranks of many American writers who dealt with the uncomfortable realities of Indian Removal by imagining that all signs of American Indians on the land are in fact as ancient as geological formations. Ultimately, this language suggests that the homesteaders are the next group in line to make their natural mark on the land.
