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DEAN CADLE Dean Cadle was born in 1920 in a coal mining camp near Middlesboro, Kentucky. After serving in the U.S. Air Force in World War II, including a stint as a military photographer, he studied at Berea College, Stanford University, Columbia University , and the University of Iowa. Early in his career he taught English at Union College, the University of Kentucky, and the Detroit Institute of Technology. In 1959, after completing a master's in libraty science at the University of Kentucky, he began a distinguished career as a librarian, serving at UK, Southeast Community College, and the University of North Carolina at Asheville. After his retirement in 1983, he worked in the Mars Hill College Library. He died in 1998. Cadle is known especially for his photographs of Kentucky writers and his critical work on James Still. His 1968 article "Man on Troublesome," which appeared in the Yale Review, is one ofthe touchstone studies ofStill. Although Cadle's work has not been collected into book form, he was a prolific writer of essays, poems, reviews, and short stories. One of his early stories, "We Have Returned," won Tomorrow magazine's national award for best story in 1947. While at Stanford, Cadle studied under Wallace Stegner and in 1949 published ''Anthem of the Locusts " and another story in the prestigious Stanford Short Stories. Numerous subsequent stories appeared in The Carolina Quarterly, Southwest Review, Appalachian Heritage, Deep Summer, and Short Fiction International. WilliamS. Ward in A Literary History ofKentucky notes that Cadle's work often focuses on "people who must struggle against forces that would hold them down as they seek security and a mastery of their lives in an atmosphere that is hostile toward such strivings." Centering on a struggle whose source seems ancient and shrouded, ''Anthem ofthe Locusts" gains its power from poetic imagery and the dark atmosphere of mystery and ambiguity. • Logan Roberts laid his .22 rifle beside him on top of the flat sandstone rock and lit a cigarette, wondering why people in the camp disliked the sound of the locusts so much. Some of the people said their whirring was like a million rattlesnakes going at once, while others complained that they drowned the singing of the birds and that you couldn't hear your own voice. 52 DEAN CADLE It was true they did make a lot of noise, but their being there had not bothered Logan, and he supposed that was because they were something different. & he sat listening to their shrilling, unvaried rhythm swelling round him like some dizzying new music come to the mountains, he wondered if they did anything besides sing. He had not thought about that before. He knew little about them except that they were there, somehow coming quite magically, that they lived for a while and sang and then died, and that in a few days, after they had sung themselves to death, the rocks on the hillsides and the mountain paths would be strewn with their bodies lying by the thousands in the hot sun like strange seed blown from the trees. "Hello, Logan." He turned. Emily Fletcher was standing a few yards from him, beside a patch ofstickweeds. "Hello, Emily. What are you doing up here?" "To hear the locusts." "You can hear them in the camp." "Better up here. I like to hear them." She came over and leaned against the other side ofthe rock and, with her head lowered, looked up at him. She looked at everybody that way. "Sounds like singing in the trees up here." Logan guessed that the way she looked at people meant little to another woman. She always held her head bent slightly forward, even while walking, and when she looked at a person she did not raise her head but rolled her dark eyes up. A few times he had felt like going up to her and placing an arm around her shoulders and with his other hand brushing the tangled mass of bangs off her forehead and looking into her disturbed eyes and saying, "Emily, honey, never, never look at a man that way unless you are ready to go through with everything." But most of the time he hurt from wanting to go through with everything. ''Are you resting?" she asked. "For a few minutes." "Can I rest with you?" "Ifyou'll be very good." After a moment she giggled. Logan turned and looked at her. She had her back to him and was looking...

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