Holiday

So here are a few items I'd like to discuss for "Holiday" tomorrow...

1. Porter's technique of creating silence in a story: Silence is referrenced frequently as a theme in the story (and of course, we should discuss that ultimately), but what about the function of silence as a purely technical device in Porter's writing? How is it possible--literally--for a writer to create a sense of silence in a medium that requires one to use words? The narrator speaks directly to the audience, and yet, because the story uses dialogue so sparingly, the reflective narration assumes the quality of a series of images, rather than a string of sounds. Why do the images in this story seem so much more silent than the images of many other stories we have read? (Or am I the only reader with this impression?)


2. Silence: Barrier to communication or the means of ultimate, transcendent communication?
Is silence a mark of alienated individuality (as in the case of Ottilie), or does a certain level of silent physicality actually reinforce a communal bond? The family is bound by common language, but also, emphatically, by shared physical traits (and these physical traits are the marks by which the narrator recognizes Ottilie as a member of the family). The narrator relishes the isolation of silence in the beginning of the story, remarking that silence--in this case, linguistic isolation--"means a freedom from the constant pressure of other minds...the freedom to fold up in quiet and go back to my own center" (413). The narrator watches and narrates--linguistically, to an audience, at a distance from his/her narrative objects, as an isolated individual observer making use of language as a mechanism or medium which implies an alienation. S/he notices that Hatsy's groom resembles her brothers, but "nobody ever noticed this except myself, and I said nothing because it would have been the remark of a stranger and hopeless outsider" (421, emphasis mine). In fact, the narrator almost never expresses his/herself in dialogue--except in a few lines at the very beginning of the story, to a college friend, before s/he ever reaches the farm. Linguistic silence isolates him/her as a guest, but physical tasks--helping Hatsy in the garden, sweeping glass after the storm--seem to be the beginnings of an attachment within the family. Physical effort, though still silent, allows some kind of communal identity, if not the individual identity carved out by linguistic communication.

3. Ottilie, as a crux between this physical, communal identity, and linguistically-isolated individual identity. (Are these two different directions in which "silence" might go?)
The passage I'd really like to examine is on page 417, the paragraph beginning "there was a gust of excited talk in German...". The narrator remarks that the family is united in "tribal scepticisms...[that they were] one human being divided into several separate appearances"(417). This seems to suggest the physical nature of communal identity. But then the narrator goes on to say, using very physical terms, that s/he "felt divided into many fragments, having left or lost a part of myself in every place I had travelled, in every life mine had touched, above all, in every death of someone near to me that had carried into the grave some part of my living cells." This seems to suggest a contradictory thesis, that the linguistic isolation the narrator experiences actually contributes to a sense of physical fragmentation, of a loss of identity. Then, the final line of the paragraph: "But the servant, she was whole, and belonged nowhere." Does this then suggest that linguistic alienation can create a healthy individual identity? Is belonging nowhere a freedom or a curse? Why should the Muellers, a family so emphatically rooted in physicality, physical labor ("muscular life"), physical similarities, and their physical, natural surroundings, alienate a physical member of their family because she cannot speak?

4. Silence as a plot device. The first paragraph of the story mystifies me (in a good way). We are not meant to know, presumably, what the heck the narrator is specifically referring to, and the plot of the story never doubles back to illuminate it. So the great silence running througout the story is the narrator's mysterious, unspoken past.

5. Das Kapital. The father Mueller is a fan. Porter goes so far as to describe it as a "canonical, once-delivered text," which father Mueller treats as "a very bible." In some ways, the Muellers are the ultimate Marxist family in the sense that they are expressing their humanity through their labor--they are not alienated from their labor. They own their farm and eat what they produce. In other ways, their lifestyle echoes the idealized, capitalist myth of the hardworking farm family--everyone contributes his or her use-value. Ottilie's use-value is determined by what she is able to produce. In a story with so many intersecting themes of alienation, individuality and communal identity, I know I know I know there must be some threads we can pull out of this Das Kapital reference, and I'd really like to know what other people make of it.

The Slime You Wash May Be Your Own

This is probably my favorite O'Connor story; I love the sliminess of Shiftlet - from his greasy hair to his elusive name. He shifts names as easily as gears (just as Aaron Sparks might replace plugs, or George Speeds might get pulled over, or Thompson Bright might warn you of deer on the road), shifts locations (from Lucynell's "permanent place" to Mobile); his name seems to beg its audience for permission to do as he wills, as his spirit would, as an automobile would, "always on the move"; just let Shiftlet shift.

But his slipperyness foils me, too. Is he a malicious character, or simply a negligent (i.e., shiftless) one? At times, to me, his gestures seem if not generous, then at least benign. "He had not been around a week before the change he had made in the place was apparent." He doesn't suggest marriage, though does wait to be offered the car to consent. He never made clear his intent to abandon Lucynell Jr., it only seems to have occured to him immediately before he did it.

And his mother, whom he talks to the young hitchhiker about - I hope I'm not alone in reading this as a composite of the Lucynells. If that's true then he's either lying to the hitchhiker or to himself, or both. If it's his real mother, then man, we don't know shift about Shiftlet.

And what of the grace moment? Does Shiftlet have it? Is it implied for Lucynell I? For the young hitchhiker?

"He" and deformity

I loved reading "He" again. I am glad that we brought up the theme of deformity again in class because it is a reoccuring theme throughout the works. I love the way that O'Connor often omits the persepectives of those that have mental/physical disabilities. This is true in "Holiday," "the River" and "He". While the reader is disconnected from what the individual is going through, he or she is still connected to these characters through their moments of extreme emotion. In these three stories I have felt overwhelming pity for these characters because the world seems to forget about them while the reader is forced to follow their stories. These stories also include a "normal" individual who becomes struck or exceedingly concerned by the forgotten person. In "The River," this individual is the man who tries to save Bevel at the end of the story. In "Holiday," the protagonist becomes fascinated by the servant girl and in the end takes action to include her in the rest of the family's activities. The mother in "He" also becomes obsessed with trying to treat Bevel equally. As readers, we are able to sympathize with these "normal" individuals and see a bit of our own anxiousness when we are confronted by deformity or our desire to save/help people with disabilities. I love that O'Connor and Porter are able to bring this out in the reader.

good book on disabilities

Our conversation today on O'Connor's preoccupation with those with disabilities or deformities reminded me of a book I read for a religious studies class years ago.

The book is called Between Heaven and Earth, and it's by Robert A. Orsi.

It's a book about Catholicism, pre-Vatican II, and neither of our two authors are ever mentioned, but a great part of it deals with Catholicism and the disabled.  Orsi goes as far as to argue that in giving charity to the disabled, they are fetishized or set apart as "the exotic Other," and he makes a great case for it.

Orsi argues that this phenomenon is distinctly Catholic, not really present as fetishized in any other branch of Christianity.

I thought for those writing on O'Connor, this could be interesting considering not only her religion but her pre-Vatican II stance on that religion.

I know it's very late in the game, but I thought perhaps this source could help.

He - Jessica's Paper

This really could be stretching it...but after class I started thinking about how some animals actually behave more like humans than some people. A few weeks ago in my Anthropology class we were discussing characteristics of chimps, and how they show emotions just like humans do. My professor was studying chimps with a group of people and a woman he worked with was pregnant during the study. One of the chimps would sign to her, and he understood that she was going to have a baby. When she came back, her stomach was smaller, and the chimp signed, asking where the baby was. She communicated that she had a miscarriage...the baby was not with her. The chimp did not respond with his version of words (signing)...his body immediately slumped over, and he stumbled backwards. Then he signed "cry." He spent the rest of the day holding the woman, stroking her hair as though she was his own. I found this story fascinating, and I related this to your topic discussed today because of body language. Before emotions are shown on someone's face, the emotions are naturally conveyed through the body. The fact that this chimp is not "human" does not discourage his ability to show emotions. I don't know if this pertains to what you are analyzing, but this is the first thing that came to my mind when Professor Cook said something along the lines of, "'He' is referred to as an animal, which, in a way, makes him more evolved than the rest of the characters" towards the end of class. You can always read through what someone says, but body language and facial expressions never lie, no matter how good of an actor someone is. Obviously in this story silence does not make "He" less human, rather it allows him to be more human...he has his body language and facial expressions, which he cannot sensor.

He and KAP

In "He" I thought about the family aspect especially with the mother, Mrs. Whipple. I feel as if Mrs. Whipple is the over-bearing, judgemental mother, she not only favors "He" but she makes it widely known that she prefers him. I feel that KAP is making a statement about her family and how a mother or father figure should not have favorites but many times do and they usually prefer the child whom is "simple" and provides the most for the family. With my research of KAP, I've found that within her famliy dynamic, her idea of parental figures seems skewed especially when favoritism could be a factor. It seemed that KAP had some specific feelings anout her siblings and what they provided in her family. In her biography and some of her letters she alludes to her family in a favoritism light she tends to favor her older siblings and she is cruel to her younger sister Baby. Which allows me to think that the way Mrs. Whipple describes Adna and Emily. I wonder if they represent Baby and maybe herself as well. It seems that her older sibling represent siblings as "He" which might also allude to the fact that "He" does not have an actual name. "He" also takes care of things around the house where Emily and Anda cannot they just allow "He" to take of things. Because "He" and KAP's older siblings were so much more capable for helping around the house they were favored by their parents, Mrs. Whipple and KAP's father.

Good Counrty People

I thought this story was very interesting the second time around with the idea of Pointer and the masculine nature of this character throughout the story. Pointer's name the phallic symbol through his name. I also thought it was interesting that the character develops the masculine nature through the illusion he portrays as well as his actual character.

In the illusion he portrays himself as a Bible salesman which in my opinion is a very masculine role during the time period, to be preaching the word of God as well as a salesman. Even though his manipulation of Hulga depends upon his innocence, I feel as if his character still has masculine nature about him, with him asking Hulga to meet him and go with him.

Then when his true character is shown he portrays a more modern man with the brief case of sexual items and the flask. Also he talks her up to the loft and convinces her to show him her leg. Pointer possesses a certain masculine and convincing nature which allows him to take advantage of Hulga.

I was wondering what everyone thought about O'Conner's is saying about men in the story, when she has the embodiment of masculinity abandons the woman who lets her guard down and allows for herself to be dependent upon a man?

A Good Man is Hard to Find

For this post, I am interested in looking at the epistemological content of the saying: "The salt of the earth." This saying is prevalent in O'Connor's writing and is typically used to explain "good country people" by other people who consider themselves also to be "good country people." This saying, in the context previously mentioned, creates a sense of kinships and community, much like that of the Christian faith, a recurring theme in O'Connors works. Not surprisingly enough, the origin of the phrase, "The salt of the earth" is biblical. This saying occurs in the book of Matthew 5:13

Ye are the salt of the earth: but if the salt have lost his savour, wherewith shall it be salted? it is thenceforth good for nothing,
but to be cast out, and to be trodden under foot of men.

What is interesting to me is not the phrase "The salt of the earth" itself, but the remainder of the verse. The saying "the salt of the earth" in its own does not hold much weight in comparison to the rest of the verse. In using this saying, O'Connor seems to be questioning the values of good country people, which we definitely see in the motif of prejudice vs. tolerance in A Good Man is Hard to Find. Just because country people consider themselves to be good, does not make them good. It is through questioning, through understanding that the salt of the earth has, in fact, lost its' flavor, that goodness is achieved. Thus, O'Connor asks both her characters and her readers to understand what they believe.

"The River" is my favorite, and "He" is simmalar

Upon re-reading "The River" it has become my favorite of O'Connor's stories. One of the things that makes it different from her other southern stories is the travel, and sense of place. As He travels it adds a chaotic and almost surreal quality to the plot and adds to the spiritual warfare inherent within the boy. The setting seems to flow like the river, and the language, although unusual at times sweeps the reader under with murky colors, and dirty characters who are pushing He along the current to his death. The river is a perfect metaphor for being led to death, and in accordance with the Christian symbolism of baptism. I think this is one of O'Connor's more well rounded pieces, and it shows the full extent of her talent.

I feel like "He" conveys a very similar mother child relationship, and that the authors are exploring similar acceptable reactions to having children, and that child's need for parenting being contradictory to the lifestyle the parent would like to lead.

Second Glance at He

It occurred to me during the second read-through of “He” that Katherine Anne Porter may be making a statement about the concept of utilitarianism. The utilitarian philosophy discusses the idea: 1) the value of a thing is based on its utility 2) all action should tend toward benefiting the greatest number of people with the greatest amount of happiness. Porter may be suggesting—through Mrs. Whipple’s treatment of her son He—that utilitarianism as a philosophical theory practiced as a lifestyle is a selfish and unrealistic lifestyle.

Mrs. Whipple treats He as if his value were based only on what he can do to assist the Whipple family on the farm. She used him to do the dirty work of the farm. When stealing the pig away from its mother proved too tedious a task for her or her daughters, Mrs. Whipple “gave Him a little push toward the pen” (52). When Adna cannot handle the bees, she employs He to do the task because “if He gets a sting He really don’t mind” (51). When Mrs. Whipple refused to go get the neighbor’s bull to breed because “she was scared sick of bulls” she had no problem asking He to fetch it (55). He is a commodity to Mrs. Whipple and the farm; his worth is correlated with his ability and his utility.

The “actions” of Mrs. Whipple’s relationship with he, furthermore, emulate the facets of utilitarian. Everything associated with the boy stems from her desire please the greatest amount of people despite the hurt she brings upon her child. She steals blankets off his cot in the wintertime and provides only her daughters with warm clothing because she believes he can do without those necessities, and it is better to benefit the healthy minded children because they can further the family’s successes. Mrs. Whipple “loaded up a big plate for Him first, before everybody” when her brother’s family comes to dine to put on the presentation of happiness. To create the allusion of having He taken care of puts the rest of the family—and her brother’s family—at ease so they may enjoy their meal. Finally, she benefits the good of her family rather than the good of the individual son by shipping He off to the County Home. She claimed that although “she had loved Him as much as she possibly could, there were Adna and Emly to be thought of too;” there was herself to think of too, her belly to feed, her reputation to protect.

What interests me about this “utilitarian” relationship Mrs. Whipple has with He is the angle of He being a symbol of Christ. For the reasons we’ve discussed in class, He symbolizes Christ and the “innocent [who] walks with God” (50). Is Porter saying, then, that we treat Christ as a utility and his value to humanity is only from what he can do for us? Is she saying that like Mrs. Whipple who turned to God in prayer only when her reputation was at stake for mistreating her son—she prayed “Lord, you know they’ll say we didn’t take care of Him. Oh, get him home, safe…Amen” when she feared for her own status—we too, only turn to Christ when we need to get something out of him and help our own happiness? Is Christ’s role in the lives of humanity merely the utilitarian sacrifice for universal happiness? Is that wrong?

Conflating disability and disease in HE

One of the things I find most interesting about this story is the way in which the titular character's family (and larger community) associates developmental disability with disease and, to some extent, infection. As modern readers, most of us went to inclusive public schools as children and many grew up with disabled schoolmates, friends, siblings, etc. We know that a mental handicap has nothing to do with disease, upbringing or some sort of moral 'predestination'. He's family, however, constantly assumes that his body is inherently unwell, to the point that they neglect his physical needs (because he's "like that") and he actually does become sick. During the hard winter, Mrs. Whipple's daughter's need warm clothes, but instead of procuring some new coats she gives the boy's warm clothes to the daughters, explaining, "He won't need so much." The implication is that His body is intrinsically different, with separate needs from the "healthy" bodies of His sisters.
Inevitably, without warm clothes for the cold, He becomes sick. This prompts a visit from the local doctor, who pronounces, "He isn't as stout as he looks...you've got to watch them when they're like that." For the reader, the reason for He's illness is apparent, but the family and the community (as represented by the doctor) do not even consider this blatantly obvious conclusion, opting instead to blame his difference, accepting poor health as part of his disability.

Before this, every raw description of the boy seems to indicate a strong, healthy young body who can lead a bull by himself and do more heavy work than any one else in his family. Nonetheless, the community (neighbors) considers Him doomed from the beginning, saying, "A Lord's Pure Mercy if he should die...It's the sins of the fathers." It is expected that He will die from this disability, which is given a transmittable (infectious) property: like a hereditary disease, He's handicap has passed down through the family, a kind of moral virus. These bullheaded, medieval attitudes towards difference/disability lead directly to the neglect He receives; lack of warm clothing, lack of care for his many injuries (because, "He never got hurt."), and the final sending away to the horrors of a state mental institution.

This conflation present in the family and community of "He" is ultimately epitomized by the conduct of the neighbor who drives He and his mother to the institution. While He weeps in impotent despair in the backseat, the driver stares ahead, "not daring to look behind him." The driver is afraid of catching whatever it is that, in the communal mind, has infected this family and manifested itself in the boy.

Good Country People - take two

I think the first time I read this story, I was getting Mrs. Hopewell and Mrs. Freeman confused. That said, I think it is very interesting that the story opens with a description of Mrs. Freeman, not Mrs. Hopewell, when Mrs. Hopewell becomes more of a central character than she does. Once Joy is introduced, the emphasis does seem to shift subtly to the Hopewells. Sure, Mrs. Freeman and her two "fine girls" are always present, but the focus seems to be on their relation to the Hopewells. I am wondering why O'Connor may be introducing the story this way only to shift such a focus to other characters.

Also, my second main thought in re-reading was Joy/Hulga's choice to go with the Bible salesman. She seems like such a strong-willed character. What on earth did she see in Manly Pointer?? I wish we could get the dialogue between the two in the front yard that night he leaves the house. From what we get of her character, it seems like she would accept no man other than a fellow PhD-holder, but Manly Pointer seems so beneath what she thinks of herself.

If we view this in terms of the setting, the country, could it be a statement on the seclusion of such places? If we look at the Tarwater place in The Violent Bear it Away and the homestead in "The Life you Save...," it seems as though these country places of O'Connor's are very secluded and isolated. Could the pickings merely be that slim for Joy/Hulga?

returning to "The River" one last time

In going over The River again over break, I wanted to attempt an answer to one of Michelle's questions on Friday that we really did not cover much.

The question was....
Why doesn't Bevel have a beatific vision?

I am wondering if the "pig" Bevel "sees" in Mr. Paradise could serve the same purpose as such a vision. On page 171, the narrative voice states that Bevel "saw something like a giant pig bounding after him, shaking a red and white club and shouting."

We know this is Mr. Paradise and he was trying to help with a candy cane, but what Bevel sees is much more menacing and threatening. Now I know it is not a celestial vision, but Bevel clearly sees something other than what is there, and considering that pigs are used throughout the story, I cannot help but think that O'Connor means this to be something of a vision: perhaps this is just another thing that Bevel gets wrong, just as his attempt to baptize himself?

Whatever the case may be, I think this misinterpreted vision is important, and I hope this helps?

Good Country People, or Hulga's First Date

My paper is supposed to be about the stranger as a vehicle for redemption, and I'm hoping to come at that topic from the side by exploring things in this story which interest me more than tackling that idea head-on.

On Mrs. Freeman, the car:
That Mrs. Freeman is described as a car is nothing new or exciting; she has three expressions -- neutral, reverse, and forward, that last of which is "steady and driving like the advance of a heavy truck;" her "gaze drove forward and just touched him before he disappeared."

But why is Mrs. Freeman - or I guess, Mrs. Freeman's look - described as a car in context of the other cars in O'Connor's fiction? In Wise Blood, Hazel Motes's car is both pulpit and weapon, pen and sword; it makes him powerful; it makes him free. Tom T. Shiftlet (of "The Life You Save...") ruins lives to keep mobile and get to Mobile, liberating himself from the ball-and-chain that was only a few hours long. Both men get free, and she is Mrs. Freeman.

There seems to be some kind of disconnect between car = freedom, Freeman = car. It's a poor pun and a worse paper. What am I missing?

On Mrs. Freeman, the proxy:
Meagan points out, "Mrs. Freeman has a weird fascination with people with deformities! Just like Manley Pointer." O'Connor takes it further: "Mrs Freeman had a special fondness for the details of secret infections . . . assaults upon children. Of diseases, she preferred the lingering or incurable."

Pardon my scholarly sin, but this sounds a boatload like O'Connor herself. Maimed characters, raped characters, retarded characters (and otherwise idiot children)...Mrs. Freeman's "special fondnesses" resonate, at least to this O'Connor reader, as the "large and startling figures" that mark the relationship between this fiction writer and her country.

Or is O'Connor taking a break from slapping around intellectuals (poor Hulga) to slap around the people who are drawn to her work -- "If you want it, here it is - LIKE IT IS." The freaks and weirdos, and especially the author of Michelle's elusive abstract "that said that O'Connor's own battle with lupus, "makes its way into her fiction not only literally -- through images of blood, disease, death, and twisted parent-child relationships -- but figuratively as well.”" O'Connor, notoriously sensitive about her disease, brushed off accusations of her fiction as a kind of exorcism of its effect on her severally, though of course I can't find any of those letters now. (No index listing for "lupus".) Mrs. Freeman's fixation on disease - O'Connor's readers' fixation on her's - Mrs. Freeman's laughable simplicity - revenge?

On Names:
Brad made a post about names when we first read this story, and what I want to latch onto from that is this point on the Joy-Hulga dynamic: "I am reminded of "The River" and how there as well, the narrator seemed to be making a very conscious choice of calling the boy not by his God-given name." Brad noticed that after the breakfast scene, "for the rest of the story, the narrator's voice only uses Hulga or "the girl."" I definitely think he's on to something; once they go off on the picnic, Pointer and Hulga become "the boy" and "the girl," "he" and "she." Only the characters themselves call each other by their names; the narrator is hands-off about it.

Could it be because the narrator doesn't know what to call them? Pointer says his name is Pointer, and then he says it's not; Joy says her name is Hulga; who's to be believed?

I can't help but draw comparisons between Shiftlet and Pointer. "And you needn't to think you'll catch me because Pointer ain't really my name." "I can tell you my name is Tom T. Shiftlet and I come from Tarwater, Tennessee . . . How you know my name ain't Aaron Sparks, lady, and I come from Singleberry, Georgia, or how you know it's not George Speeds and I come from Lucy, Alabama, or how you know I ain't Thompson Bright from Toolafalls, Mississippi?" If names are so fluid, how can you know a person? How can you tell this Tarwater from that Tarwater? (With great difficulty... Which is which Lucynell Crater? Like Brad said, there's Joy-Hulga, Harry/Bevel (who I propose is actually just Bevel/Bevel, or 1), and my favorite, the confusion of Heads. From "The Artificial Nigger": "Mr. Head meant him to see everything there is to see in a city so that he would be content to stay at home for the rest of his life. He fell asleep thinking how the boy would at last find out that he was not as smart as he thought he was." There's the male we do read as "he" and then there's the ambiguity of who we can read as "he" (and then of course there's the "He" we have to read, for class, tomorrow) and it's so mixed up I can't help but be mixed up for it. Of course, this ambiguity is avoided in the barn scene of "Good Country People" by the difference of sexes -- "the boy" and "the girl", "he" and "she".

So I guess my question is a reiteration of Ashley's - "what makes them them?" And it's also, who's who? And if that question is even answerable -- is it important? When O'Connor makes one character unremarkable from another in any way, does that just highlight their differences all the more? Does it join them in something common to each? How does it matter?

("'I like girls that wear glasses,' he said." Had Hulga read Dorothy Parker, we could have avoided this mess altogether.)

"He" is better off dead?

There seems to be a common theme with these two authors in killing people who don't have the same kind of future that most people around them do. Any kind of deformity or unwanted background calls for the character to be sacrificed for the greater good of the other characters. I know He wasn't killed, but he might as well have been. We talked about how the homes that special needs people go into were terrible back then, and it is pretty apparent that He already has been sick or having some sort of other trouble.

I don't really have a whole lot to say about this story, except that I'm wondering what the purpose of this is? I don't think I'm comfortable with just thinking that this is how the authors feel, but maybe it's how they feel about humanity?

Foreshadowing in GCP

I think I said this in class before, but I had completely forgotten all about GCP except for Hulga's character. Fortunately, this time while reading, I remembered everything I thought while I was reading.

That being said, I had completely missed all the foreshadowing the first time reading it. One of the passages I completely missed before, but that is an excellent way of foreshadowing, is the top paragraph on page 267. Mrs. Freeman has a weird fascination with people with deformities! Just like Manley Pointer (excuse me while I laugh about this name...). I never realized it before, but the entire story sets up the ending scene in such a way that it is completely about the ending scene with Pointer and Hulga. I remember the first time reading it, I was so busy concentrating on Mrs. Freeman because I thought the story was going to be about her and Hulga was going to be a side character.

Some other interesting parts I thought were the descriptions of Hulga on page 268 and the narrative structure on page 269-275. Hulga's description kind of foreshadows because it shows her true character. And the narrative structure on the following pages I had missed before and didn't realize that the story of Pointer coming over for dinner was a flashback (at least I think it is a flashback). But there is barely any set up for it and definitely no cues that we are back in "present time." Does anyone have anything to say about this strange temporal ellipses that goes on?

Themes and Motifs in "He"

I am interested in looking at the narrative point of view in KAP's "He" and how that effects the reader's perspective. "He" is narrated from the point of view of Mrs. Whipple, He's mother. However, the story is about He. Due to his disabilities, He is mute and therefore, silent. Silence is a common motif in KAP's as well as O'Connor"s works. The fact that the story is narrated through the eyes of the protagonist, Mrs. Whipple amplifies the extent to which she IS a protagonist. As the story progresses we learn that He, despite what others may think, has cognitive abilities and can comprehend what is going on around him, although he may not be in direct dialogue with his surroundings.

Another thing I noticed within "He" was the various implications the title "He" may hold. Not only is "He" the title of the story, but also the name of the son. The use of the capital H in He has definite religious implications. In combination with Mrs. Whipple's desire to be held in high esteem by her neighbors, I found ties to Calvinism and the idea of being "elect." In Calvanism (as well as Puritanism and Protestantism) work ethic was held in high esteem. Weber, in his essay "The Protestant Ethic" states,

For everyone without exception God’s Providence has prepared a calling, which he
should profess and in which he should labour. And this calling is not, as it was for the
Lutheran, a fate to which he must submit and which he must make the best of, but
God’s commandment to the individual to work for divine glory
(Weber 160).

As demonstrated by the quote above, Puritans believed that each individual had a prescribed calling in which he should work diligently. The diligent work of the Puritan individual would not only bring glory to God in this world, but would also display his status as “elect” in the next to the members of his community. In his essay, Weber, in regards to the Protestant work ethic states, “The emphasis on the ascetic importance of a fixed calling provided an ethical justification of the modern specialized division of labour” (163). In turn, this ethical justification for the specialized division of labor gave rise to the spirit of capitalism. Regarding the spirit of capitalism, Weber states, “The idea of a man’s duty to his possessions, to which he subordinates himself as an obedient steward, or even as an acquisitive machine, bears with chilling weight on his life” (170). Ellwood Johnson, in the Goodly Word, asserts that this linear and acquisitive mentality associated with the Puritan lifestyle manifested as the pursuit of power. The more power a man yielded, in comparison to his neighbors, the more accountable, and therefore closer, he was to God. Therefore, Mrs. Whipple's desire for material goods implies that she wishes to be seen as, "elect," and therefore, close to God. However, I feel that this story has didactic implications in that, He is symbolic of God. Thus, Mrs. Whipple, in her pursuit of power and her acquisitive drive leads her away from He and therefore, away from God. Mrs. Whipple was already being held accountable of He (God) and therefore, had high standing in His eyes. In sending He away, Mrs. Whipple proves to be ignorant of His love and divorces herself from God, the very thing she thought she had been searching for all along.

Humanity In "He"

For my final paper I will be addressing the issue of humanity as it is portrayed in Katherine Anne Porter’s “He”. The animal/human distinction plays a major underlying role throughout the story. To start, the Whipple’s have their home on a farm and they work this farm for a living. Their way of life is provided for them by animals; their existence depends on their animals’ production. Therefore they rely on animals. Just as they rely upon the animals of their farm they rely upon their second son, He, to do most of the tedious farm work. He is described several times throughout the story as some sort of animal. When he climbs trees he is described as a monkey; he “went skittering along the branches like a monkey, just a regular monkey” (Porter 50). He is also described as having dog like qualities. He chases possums under fences and waits patiently for his dinner to be brought to him; he evenly eats his dinner in the kitchen, which is separate from the family because they eat in the dining room. The Whipple’s, at least Mrs. Whipple, treats this boy as if he were an animal.

Contrary to what Mrs. Whipple thinks, He is far more human than how he is presented. Simply because he does not speak does not mean he is more animal than human. If anything, this quality makes him more human. It allows him to express honest and true feelings, which cannot be expressed vocally. In most cases it is these deep and genuine feelings that have no words to begin with and therefore can only be articulated through expression and movement. He is only able to communicate through expression and this shows his true communication. Usually more is said through silence than through words themselves. And He enables us to see his family and himself for what they really are.

He actually exhibits many more human characteristics than animal ones. There are times when Mrs. Whipple describes Him as very childlike; she says, “I can’t keep Him out of mischief. He’s so strong and active” (Porter 50). To me, this sounds like a normal kid. He climbs trees and chases animals just as any other normal kid living on a farm would do. One of his most human qualities that is shown in the text is his reaction to the killing of the baby pig. “When He saw the blood He gave a great jolting breath and ran away” (Porter 52). This reaction is instinct. He is frightened by what has just happened; this would be the reaction of any person especially a child who had never witnessed such a gruesome act. Another act of humanity is shown in the end of the story. He realizes that his mother is sending him away and he cries; he understands what is going on. In this moment, his mother becomes just like him, silent. There are no words to express how she is feeling in this moment of genuine sadness and therefore she cries. By crying she is expressing how she is feeling just as He always expresses how he is feeling through his expressions.

Characteristics of Good Country People

During this reread of Good Country People, I paid attention to each character's traits. I kept questioning, "what makes them them?" and "what makes them do the things they do in the story?"

These are some of the key characteristics/quotes from/about the characters that I find to be the most important:

HULGA --

- highly educated
- "lumber into the bathroom...slam the door"
- Joy called them Glycerin and Caramel (reference to Mrs. Freeman's girls - jealousy)
- "If you want me, here I am - LIKE I AM" (to Mrs. Hopewell)
- stumped into the kitchen
- arms folded
-Ph.D.
- "...brilliant but didn't have a grain of sense" (Mrs. Hopewell about Joy)
- bloated
- rude
- squint-eyed
- she looked at nice young men...smell their stupidity
- freezing blue eyes
- her heart stopped and left her mind to pump her blood

POINTER --

- pretending to look puzzled
- just a country boy
- he was so sincere, genuine, earnest
- he was...the salt of the earth
- "It's because I may die"
- bouncing on his toes
- bouncing at her side
- watching her out of the corner of his eye
- real innocence
- no longer had any admiration
- you ain't so smart
- he was so simple

MRS. HOPEWELL --

- They were good country people (Freemans)
- Mrs. Hopewell had no bad qualities of her own
- "nothing is perfect"
- "that is life!"
- "well, other people have their opinions too"
- she was a woman of great patience
- would ahve been better if the child had not taken the Ph.D.

I think the most interesting idea that I got out of this reread was that the characters seem to think they are so in tune with themselves, and each other, but there is always one character who is slightly ahead of the other.

Ex. - Mrs. Hopewell refers to Pointer as "good country people," while he refers to himself as "country people," or "country boy." He gives the impression that he agrees with Mrs. Hopewell, yet he knows all along what his true colors are.

Second Reading of "He" and "Good Country People"

Hi! I'm going to go ahead and post on "He" and "Good Country People," tying them into what I am working on with family structures, but I will also post after the discussion questions are posted.

My essay is going to focus on what influences the family structures in Flannery O'Connor's stories. Something that I have been exploring while writing my essay is how the diseases and illnesses affect how the family treats each other in her stories. I first thought of this idea after reading an abstract for an article (I haven't been able to get to the full article) that said that O'Connor's own battle with lupus, "makes makes its way into her fiction not only literally -- through images of blood, disease, death, and twisted parent-child relationships -- but figuratively as well.” I was not able to read this article, and I have not found any other critical resources that make this same kind of connection. Also, I did not want to just say that O'Connor's stuggle with lupus is what caused her to write how and what she did. So, I started to do my own research on how disabilities can affect families. One thing that I am having a hard time with though, is finding recent information on the psychology about having a child with disabilities and then feeling bad applying it to a story that was written before this information may have been common knowledge.

Without putting my whole paper in here, I think some of what I have been finding could be applied to these two stories, especially "He." One thing that I found very interesting and that I think that I could apply to this story, "He," is the five steps that families go through in crises. The first step is impact, then there is denial, grief, focusing outward (seeking information), and then finally closure. I think we can see how these play out in "He." Even though this story does not take place immediately following He's diagnoses, I think these steps are still appropriate with this story, because we can still see how his family reacts to what is going on with him. After the Whipples hear the doctor's recommendation to put Him in the hospital, they hear the information, they say they won't let him out of their sight which is sort of like denial, there is grief, then they talk with each other, which is sort of like reaching out, and then they finally send him to the hospital, but I don't think that they feel closure. I am not sure what this means. I also think it is interesting to consider when noticing how they do not really feel that connected.

Maria Concepcion and Patriarchy

In my re-reading of Maria Concepcion, I noticed that there is a strong theme of patriarchy. In regards to gender, Maria Concepcion is incredibly strong-willed, hard-working, and intuitive. These qualities are often characteristic of men. Thus, Maria Concepcion takes on a masculine role. Juan, who is flighty and lazy is more feminine than Maria Concepcion and therefore, feels insignificant and weak in his relationship with her. These gender relations disobey the ideals of patriarchy. In contrast to Maria Concepcion, Maria Rosa is much more feminine. She is flirtatious, vivacious, and silly (I mean silly in a some what fantastical and pejorative sense). Juan is drawn to Maria Rosa, as she is weaker than him and therefore, he can again reclaim his masculinity. Therefore, the eventual murder of Maria Rosa by Maria Concepcion is symbolic of the emasculation of Juan.

The Displaced Person: "Symbol-ogy"of the Peacock

In response to Michelle's post regarding the Displaced Person and the symbolism of peacocks, I did some research and attempted to discover as much information as possible regarding this symbol.

1. Peacock's are representative of glory, immortality, royalty, and incorruptibility.

2. The peacock is considered the emblem of protection, nobility, guidance, and holiness.

3. In Greco-Roman mythology, the peacock is associated with Hera (Juno) who created the peacock from Argus. Argus' hundred eyes symbolize the vault of heaven and the eyes of the stars.

4. In Christianity, the peacock represents omnipotence of the church as well as resurrection, renewal, and immortality.

5. In Hinduism, the peacock represents benevolence, patience, compassion, and luck.

6. In Japan, the peacock is associated with benevolence and immortality.

That's all I could find right now. It seems that there is a theme of immortality and watchfulness. The peacock does not have any bad traits from the looks of what I found. Cool.

"The River" topics

In re-reading "The River," especially in conjunction with the research I've done for my paper, I've discovered some interesting things that I didn't notice the first time around.

1. I'm looking at the significance of the manner of violence O'Connor utilizes, as it always appears to be deliberate, not random. In the case of Harry/Bevel Ashfield the drowning, like that in "The Violent Bear it Away," represents baptism.

That's no big surprise, as O'Connor makes that pretty clear in the text. But the harshness of it is seen in a new light after learning of her purpose. To get her message across, she felt she needed to shock her readers. In "Return to Good and Evil," Henry Edmonson cites a quote from Southern writer Walker Percy, who said of this, "How else can one possibly write of a baptism as an event of immense significance when baptism is already accepted but accepted by and large as a minor tribal rite somewhat secondary to taking the kids to see Santa at the department store?"

From this perspective, O'Connor needed to enhance the level of violence in her story to get people to think of this rite in old-school terms. This certainly gives it "immense significance."

2. The role of Mr. Paradise. At first read, I believed him to be the voice of reason, speaking out while the others were hoodwinked by a religious con man. His role in Harry/Bevel's death was meant to be ironic. While I personally still view him as the voice of reason in this tale, I see now that this what not O'Connor's intention. I think he serves as a secular vehicle for salvation. He came to the child with candy, not a Bible, and--ostensibly through his secular pronouncements, at least symbolically--delivers the child to grace.

3. Edmondson posited an interesting theory in his book: O'Connor introduces pivotal scenes in her stories by taking account of the landscape. In "The River," I believe this takes place on page 162, when they're listening to the preacher:

"While he preached, Bevel's eyes followed drowsily the slow circles of two silent birds revolving high in the air. Across the river there was a low red and gold grove of sassafras with hills of dark blue trees behind it and an occasional pine jutting over the skyline. Behind, in the distance, the city rose like a cluster of warts on the side of the mountain. The birds revolved downward and dropped lightly in the top of the highest pine and sat hunch-shouldered as if they were supporting the sky."

compleated Cain and Able thought

In my second reading of Noon Wine there is a clear sense of punishment being disproportionate to the crime, or supposed crime. With Mr. Thompson killing Mr. Hatch it seems that the burden of all of the sin, in particular the murder of Mr. Helton's brother. Both Mr. Helton and Mr. Thompson separate themselves, Mr. Thompson by killing himself and Mr. Helton by running away. This exile is important to the allusion to Cain and Able because Cain was exiled and marked just as Mr. Hatch is marked by the ax and exiled to death, as Mr. Helton is exiled from South Dakota, and Mr. Thompson is exiled from his community and finally when he kills himself. It is interesting that each one of these is self induced, almost as if they were the God figure in their own lives.

"The River" and race? second reading

Before this class, I have not been such a fan of re-reading, but I think Dr. Cook is on to something here. The first time we read "The River" was at the beginning of the semester, and now after much more exposure to O'Connor, I have noticed many little subtle details that I did not notice the first time, and from what we know of O'Connor, no such little detail is accidental.

At the bottom of page 157, there is the description of the picture with the man wearing a white sheet. Now of course, my immediate assumption was that this was a KKK reference. I was thinking perhaps an ancestor of the Connins was an honored member or something. Then on page 160, O'Connor reveals that this is supposed to be Jesus, and once again, the description "man in the sheet" is used. What a juxtaposition! I don't think this can be any accident. If O'Connor wanted to just describe Jesus, she could have said "flowing robes" or a "white robe" or something like that, but in this time in the South, the concept of wearing a "white sheet" only had one very serious connotation only. But the question is, what on earth could O'Connor be doing with this? What effect would there be in linking Jesus to the white sheet connotation? I don't have any answer. Maybe I am wrong, but I cannot see the white sheet reference as arbitrary, taking into account the political climate of this time.

Now for the other minor detail I have noticed. This will sound very politicall incorrect, but knowing O'Connor, I think it makes all the difference in the world: are the Connins African American? Does it matter? For the first read, I didn't even consider this, but on pg. 156, there is a small detail. As Bevel is noticing Mrs. Connin's teeth, the narrative voice states that the teeth are decaying, with "some darker than her face." Now maybe I am reading too much into this, but this really stood out to me. If the family is white, how could decaying teeth be darker than the skin color? I tried to look for any other references to race and couldn't find any. Can anyone spot anything I may have missed?

Now, the race of the Connins really does not matter either way for the story, but knowing how race is such a loaded topic for O'Connor stories, I wonder what she may be doing here. If they are African American, it would certainly widen the divide between the two families. In all the other stories, she makes it a point to address the characters race, using the word Negros, etc. If they are African American, why is she so subtle about it here, and what might it be saying to place the image of wearing a white sheet in a picture in their home?

As I said, I may be way off here because I only have those few minor details to support any of this, but with O'Connor, I think we cannot take anything for granted as being accidental.

Discussion Questions for "The River"

Hi everybody! Sorry these discussion questions are a little late, when I finally got home yesterday, the internet was deciding not to work. If anybody else has any questions, please feel free to post them.

What influences the dynamics in Bevel's family? How does this compare to how some of the other families in O'Connor's stories?

What is happening in the paragraph on page 158 that begins, "The three boys..." How is this related to the idea of original sin? Or is it?

Why does Bevel decide to go to the river?

Why doesn't Bevel have a beatific vision?

Thank you!

Identity and Naming

We talked a little bit about Bevel's name change the last time, but I wanted to look more closely at it. O'Connor seems to give her characters names that either fit their personality or their physical description and usually have some humor behind it. We haven't gone too much into depth about naming, but how does Bevel's name change effect his identity, or does it at all? Maybe he would be a good character to look at at how names in O'Connor stories give characters an identity.

Bevel & Innocence

I was interested in a comment that was made on Wednesday about the innocence of children in O'Connor's works and how the idea of their innocence is questioned. I agree that in literary works, the young are often portrayed as incapable of evil or of morally questionable thoughts. In some of her works, children's innocence is highlighed through their misunderstanding of certain religious or cultural concepts. However, I also was struck by some of Bevel's actions, such as outright lying about his name and stealing Mrs. Conin's prized family bible. O'Connor never attempts to tell us why he does these things. I think she is playing with the idea of his innocence because we do not get a "cute" explanation of a childish misunderstanding for his actions, the same as we do in other pieces.

Questions to Ponder for Noon wine

While reading through this story again, I came across a few more things that struck me that might be interesting to talk about in class:

-The role of Helton. He is not so much a character really as a plot device. His character does not seem to matter except that he moves the plot along. We think that he will be the one that has something big happen to him but it turns out to be Mr. Thompson instead. Helton is the story's McGuffin.
What are people's views on this? By saying this I'm not in any way denouncing that Helton is important, but that there might be another way of looking at him.

-Hatch as Mr. Thompson's Doppelganger
I want to look closely at the way they interact and also the way Hatch is described, especially the constantly noting his sagging skin.

-The harmonica music. It acts as a drone throughout the piece but also seems to be a warning. Is there something more to the music? Obviously there should be, since the title of the story derives from it.

-The boys. They kind of act as a parallel to Helton's life. Mr. Thompson believes that people can change, and he actually forgets how awful his sons used to be because they are so good now. Can Helton be forgiven?

-Revisiting the guilt. Considering how Mr. Thompson's life was before he killed Hatch, I think there is more than just the killing that is making him go around door to door and explaining his story. Any ideas?

For some reason, I had forgotten most of this story from the first read. It was almost like a fresh look at it again! The story doesn't have a whole lot of ups, except that the farm slightly prospers while Helton is working there. Otherwise, this story does a steady and continuous fall.

"TAN" Post-Class Thoughts

I had hoped to post this before class today, but my Internet was down. Here are some thoughts on "The Artificial Nigger" that have come up in my research.

A source for my paper is the book "Return to Good and Evil: Flannery O'Connor's Response to Nihilism." One chapter is devoted to "TAN," and it turns out it's one of O'Connor's favorite stories.

Some of the interesting insights this book brings to light are O'Connor's comments on the deliberate manner in which she reduced Mr. Head to the state he was in when he and Nelson encountered the lawn jockey. "It would be a kind of moral and spiritual shortcut for him to regain his frail confidence simply because he had found the train station again; and so, the brief light in Mr. Head's mood is instantly redarkened by the reminder of what Nelson has suffered because of his grandfather's Judas-like betrayal. His grandfather is in misery, but a misery that is preparing him for grace." (O'Connor herself also likens his denial of Nelson to Peter's denial of Jesus.)

The statue itself represents redemption, which for O'Connor is an ongoing process, not just a theological concept. "The suffering of ordinary men and women extends the redemptive grace of Christ's own suffering, not because such suffering is efficacious in itself, but because it helps release the work of the original redemptive suffering of Jesus."

In likening Mr. Head to Peter, he must be brought to "abject humiliation," which is the only way he can be ready to receive such grace. Otherwise, that "degree of self-knowledge ... might have crushed him had he not been able to respond with humility. The grace is a work of redemption flowing from the suffering represented by the black man's tortured past..."

In keeping with O'Connor's desire to write about the dragon, "Mr. Head realizes that his own goodness has largely been an illusion, but until the illusion is dispelled, he is unable to receive the mercy he so badly needs."

Second Glance at Artificial Nigger

What interests me about the discussion today on the city versus the country is how each relates to the concept of "home." In my opinion, the entire story is propelled by Mr. Head's desire to redefine Nelson's idea of where his home is. He seeks to do so by taking Nelson to the city, not to open his eyes to the horrors of the black community and teach him a moral lesson, but to shock him into realizing his appreciation for his home in the country. Mr. Head had been planning the trip for weeks so the boy would "find out from it that he had no cause for pride merely because he had been born in a city...he meant him to see everything there is to see in a city so that he would be content to stay at home for the rest of his life." Despite Mr. Head's repetition of his longing to reveal to his grandson how smart he is NOT, I believe the trip to the city was Mr. Head's longing for Nelson to find his home was not in the dream city he believed he was home.Both Nelson and Mr. Head view Atlanta as a fantastical city to symbolize their relationship to Nelson's mother. Nelson most likely connected Atlanta to a time when his mother birthed him, babied him, and protected him just as Mr. Head most likely connected Atlanta to Nelson's mother running away and abandoning him when his wife died. He most likely connects the city to the impure--his daughter was impregnated there without marriage--while Nelson most likely connects Atlanta to the adventurous nature in humanity, a place where one goes to rediscover identity. Atlanta, instead, discredits the preconceived notion of home; both characters realize--through the city--that home is not a physical place, but a place of true acception, forgiveness, and dependencey between people who love each other. Nelson realizes he cannot find his mother in Atlanta--even in the form of the black lady with the "pink dress that showed exactly her shape." Mr. Head realizes the extent to which he can betray the one person he wishes to enlighten and bring home. They both realize the absurdity of recreating black a person from artifical material when black people populated the city. Maybe both of them realized too, that a house or a city, is really just an artificial version of a home and also somewhat ridiculous.

Second Glance at Magic

A Second Glance at Magic:
While rereading this story through the lens of my topic, surrealism, I began to wonder whether or not the violence in this story could be associated with the surreal.

“…what confusion there would be sometimes with a girl running raving downstairs, and the madam pulling her back by the hair and smashing a bottle on her forehead.”

“madam took hold of her shoulder and began to lift her knee and kick this girl most terribly in the stomach, and even in her most secret place…and then she beat her in the face with a bottle…when she got up again there was blood everywhere she had sat.”

A quote from a commentary on surrealism, sex and violence Surrealism: Revolution by Night, Art Gallery of NSW, July 30 to September 19, Reviewed by Zanny Begg) : “But if the reality the Surrealists recoiled from was violent and irrational the subconscious world they explored was no less disturbing. In running away from the horrors of World War I the Surrealists discovered their own fantasy world was also filled with prejudice and disgust. In a violent world our dreams are necessarily polluted by violence.”

These two quotations example the violence I claim to be of a surreal nature; the brutality is shocking, dangerous, unusual—to say the least—and works to highlight the disturbing reality of Ninette’s situation. Again, the surreal violence is a way to draw the reader closer to the real.

The revolutionary idea of the Surrealist movement is supported by this violence. Ninnette acknowledged her dangerous situation, her captivity, and fled in pursuit of her freedom, her sexuality, her existence. Porter, however, may be criticizing the pursuit of surrealist freedom, because Ninette returns through magic, a type of surrealism. The very means of her revolution and self realization drew her back to live under the tyranny of prostitution. Porter seems to say that surrealist movements both free us and confine us. They enlighten us then bring us back to a harsher reality.

The Artificial Nigger on the Second Read

One of the ways that I saw the moral and religious views in this story go along with the geography in this story is how their paths changed once they got into the city. In the country, they were able to follow a straight path and take the train. The train didn't jump the tracks, so they followed a certain path that they were stuck on. Once they got to the city though, they did not know where they were going, and got lost in a maze of streets and buildings. I think this could become analogous to how when they were in the country they had a very set way of how they lived their life. They were able to take the train and follow on this straight path, never veering. The city became the place where they have to in a way defend their way of life. In the city, they are confronted by new views and get lost in a maze.

There is also that confusing bit about the grandson's continual assertion that he has been to the city before. Since he keeps saying this in a somewhat cryptic way, I know that this is an important part of the story, but I am still not sure what to make of this and how this could relate to the geography of the story.

Second Glance at Maria

The Forgotten Posts of Last Week: (Part One)

A Second Glance at Maria Concepcion:
Katherine Anne Porter reveals glimpses of surrealism in Maria Concepcion by including the presence of evil within this short story. Maria Concepcion seems to be the source of this darkness. She is first described as “always as proud as if she owned a hacienda.” Pride, the most dangerous of the seven deadly sins, seems to be the gateway, allowing evil to enter her character.

After she witnesses her husband’s adultery, she “burned all over, as if a layer of tiny fig-cactus bristles, as cruel as spun glass, had crawled under her skin.” The word burn immediately free associates the image of hell, and the physical experience Maria felt as this moment seems to parallel the idea of Western culture’s hell. The immediate reaction to this moment of pain, mentally and physically bound, led to the desire to “cut the throats of her man and that girl.” The eruption of the surreal evil—in the form of the mental and the physical—open her evil nature.

When she experienced a robbery in her childhood, moreover, a “dark empty feeling had filled her.” The description of a dark spirit filling her is ghastly, supernatural—surreal. When this dark feeling erupts, moreover, child Maria seemed to lose perspective of her surroundings and she “kept moving about the place, expecting it to take shape again before her…she could only curse and threaten the air.” From this detail, we learn that Maria’s evil nature stems not truly from witnessing her husband with another woman, but stems from her character itself. The darkness inside her—described in surrealist terms—she has embodied since childhood.

Less subtly, the townspeople, openly gossip about Maria Concepcion “being devil-possessed” and “punished for her pride.” Later, the readers witness a moment of this rumored possession when Maria “ran with a crazy panic in her head...trying to place herself.” She gives in to the surrealist unconscious, allowing her body to go where her inner desires lead. Eventually, her desires lead her to murder, to revenge, to evil.

Other instance of the surreal: symbolism of the goat. The symbolist movement and the surrealist movement are closely related. I would go so far to claim the symbol of the goat as evil at the end of the story verifies the evilness within Maria Concepcion and ensures its existence in generations to come when the baby drinks the goat’s milk…

I quote from Salvador Dali works really well in the context of this story: “the only difference between myself and a madman is that I am not mad.”

The Artificial Nigger Parallels

"The Artificial Nigger" is actually one of my favorite O'Connor stories. This time around the idea of racism was in the back of my mind, mostly because I was prepared for it, and also because the racism lies only in the dialogue, while the narration remains completely neutral. During this reading, I was drawn to the different parallels O'Connor paints between Mr. Head and Nelson. She uses the sun and moon imagery to demonstrate the changes in mood throughout the entire story. The moon is described very similarly in the opening paragraph and at the end of the story. The moonlight covers the ground with a silver light in both descriptions, and throughout the story, the sun's location depicts the tone of the current events. When Mr. Head and Nelson are on their journey together, the sun shines in front of them, and as Nelson carefully keeps his distance from Mr. Head, the sun disappears behind the houses, letting darkness set in. The image of the moon, similar to its original, is described in the end as the two get ready to get off the train. These images of the sky reflect the journey Mr. Head and Nelson go on as individuals. They begin in a constant childish competition with each other, and they end feeling grateful to have the other with them.

I view the two characters as starting off with the same aggressive nature; Mr. Head portrays strength, and Nelson portrays helplessness. They switch roles on page 227 when Mr. Head's plan goes too far. He is described as having slumped shoulders with his neck bent over, while Nelson embodies strength and pride. After this description, Mr. Head hopes that the drinking fountain will bring him and his grandson back together. I may be stretching it, but I think the true segregation in the story is between Mr. Head and Nelson. It is most noticeable when Nelson "...passed by the spigot, disdaining to drink where his grandfather had" (pg. 228). The image that I have when reading that passage reminds me of the segregated bathrooms and drinking fountains during the 1950's. Mr. Head makes such a big deal out of Nelson seeing a black person, and Nelson doesn't even blink when the man passes him on the train. These two events represent Nelson's innocence, rather than what his grandfather calls ignorance.

O'Connor uses the simplest dialogue to show us the two characters' acceptance of each other. When Mr. Head realizes the weight of his betrayal, his stubbornness is erased by yelling, "I'm lost!...I can't find the station" (Pg. 228). He finally admits that he got them lost, and the boy does the same when the statue of the "artificial nigger" brings them together. Nelson says, "Let's go home before we get ourselves lost again" (pg. 230). The two seem to be back on the same page, both having "[seen what all it was to see]" (pg. 219).

The Artificial Nigger - Take Two

Hello everyone,

For my paper topic, I am focusing on how O'Connor incorporates geography and setting into her narrative structures.  In "The Artificial Nigger," the setting of the city is very important to the story.  For discussion tomorrow, I would like us to consider the following

--how does the setting of the story contribute to or support O'Connor's moral/spiritual themes?

--does O'Connor want us to agree with Mr. Head on his sentiments towards the big city?

--is the situation merely black and white (no pun intended)? Meaning, can the situation be simply stated as the city has a negative association while the country a positive one, or would the message lie somewhere more in between?

The end of the A.N.

The second reading of this story went a lot more smoothly for me. The first time was so shocking and I couldn't get past all of the racism that I missed a lot. I wanted to look a little bit at how the statue is a representation of both Mr. Head and Nelson.

The end of the story, on the bottom of page 229 and the top of 230 describe the statue. On the bottom of page 229 it says, "It was not possible to tell if the artificial Negro were meant to be young or old; he looked too miserable to be either..." This reminded me of the descriptions of Mr. Head and Nelson because they are described disproportionate to their ages. I was wondering if it was because of their unhappiness? It is pretty obvious that Mr. Head is immature because he basically just wants to prove Nelson wrong all the time, and he should know better than to show up a ten year old. And Nelson might not be too happy being stuck in a small town with only really an older man to socialize with. It might the reason why he looks a lot older. Also, the two characters try to play a certain part that they are not quite succeeding. The statue is also not succeeding in looking happy because he is literally falling apart.

While re-reading the top of page 230, I still think that it is common fear (racism) that brings them together. But I'm actually more confused about the concept of mercy this time around reading. It doesn't make as much sense to me, except that, yes, Nelson forgives Mr. Head, but I still see it more as Nelson doesn't have a choice. Is that really mercy then?

Theft posting from Thursday

*sorry this wasn't posted earlier, I definitely saved it instead of posting it Thursday.*

The despaire we get from our main character in "Theft" is directly tied to Porter's own experience with men. The idea that each one of these men is non-committal and fundamentally selfish is one that we see in many of Porters cynical works, like Flowering Judas, and Maria Conception, and it is most due to her own experiences. And like FJ, and MC, Theft puts the emphasis of sorrow on the female character as a way of showing that it is the woman who has betrayed herself but putting trust in the low life men they love. I think tis says that Porter herself had allot of self blame for her failed marriages, and remained in a vicious circle of abuse, even if it was because she felt undervalued, or unsupported. There is a real sense of despair and fear from the Janitress as well, as we see her blaming her nieces misfortune on the woman as well, and the displacement of blame of the men is a very disheartening and apparently a message more to women then to men. I think Porter writes this piece not only to warn women, but to work out for herself in what ways women sabotage themselves.

How objects work in Theft and Magic

****Catch up post****

I'm really interested in inanimate objects in stories and how they can play really important parts in telling stories, often even driving the story. In Magic, it is definitely the hair. Hair is told not only in the story we are reading, but also in the story that the Madame is hearing. Hair represents power, and when someone else has your hair, they have power over you. In the case of Magic, it takes it another step further and it is always women who have power over other women.

In Theft, I think it is a couple things. Obviously, it is the purse with the woman. It is the McGuffin, it drives the story where it is supposed to go, but it isn't all that important itself. The women at the end of the story believe it holds something more, but then neither of them end up wanting it, because I think it does lose its power or appeal to them. It's just a purse.
I also think it is the hat. The man's hat that cannot get wet. The hats he wears are described in great detail. Why? It's probably because the hat fits into the material theme in the story.

Struggling artists in Theft

I'm having a hard time finding more in Theft than gender relations and everything else we've already talked about so I'll just aim low at something minor. Once again for Porter, in this story we see a string of struggling artists depicted rather unfavorably. First, we have Roger: presumably a painter of some kind whose gallery showing is mentioned. Roger tells the protagonist that "nothing has sold yet" at his show but that he means "to keep right on the way that I'm going and they can take it or leave it." The implication here seems to be that Roger thinks his work is not selling because people don't understand/appreciate what he is doing, that it could not possibly be that his art is simply not so good. This is an interesting phenomenon that I encounter often enough myself: 'artists' who have no audience so far but still imagine a relationship with one. "It's absolutely a matter of holding out," the woman tells Roger, as if his nonexistent audience is pushing him to cater to some elusive tastes.

The next struggling artist encountered in Theft is Bill, the playwright. Bill is upset because a director has canceled his play. He is offended by this, out of what seems to be some sense of being 'owed' praise or attention. Bill lives beyond his means, owing money to an ex-wife, a Victrola, a piano and the protagonist herself. Perhaps he is counting on profits from plays yet to be written or produced, in a way trying to live out the character of an extravagant, successful artist. Then of course we have the woman, who is mentioned as writing some scenes with Bill.

I think, in this story, Porter portrays (non successful) artists as whiners and social climbers with delusions of grandeur, who live in poverty, but with an implied assumption that they will one day be recognized. Maybe not, I'm just reaching for something to say really but if anyone else has something to add to this feel free.

Masculinity in Theft

I loved how KAP used a prop as simple as a hat to mark such profound differences between her male characters. Genius characterization! In a few deft strokes, KAP gives us Camilo's humble circumstances and his pride. His refusal to take off his hat in the rain allows the reader an intuitive understanding of his sense of chivalry. He is almost immediately foiled by Roger in one of Katherine Anne Porter's most profound and subtle comments on masculinity: Roger, who could easily afford a new hat, does not feel the need to protect his pride by affecting a lack of concern over his material property (whereas Camilo, who clearly cannot afford a new hat, insists on pretending that the destruction of his property is of little consequence). I'm tagging this as a "masculinity" theme because the relationship between each man and his hat touches implicitly on courtship through the observations of the woman.
And note: Roger puts his hat under his coat to keep it from getting wet, with "his long, imperterbable face...streaming with water." I can't believe it took me two readings to recognize the patent absurdity of protecting a HAT from RAIN by putting it under your coat while your HEAD gets WET. (This sense of obvious absurdity repeats itself in the story again, both when Bill whines about finances and shows off his fancy new rug in the same breathe, and when the laundry woman brings back the purse only to turn the accusation of theft back on the purse's original owner.)

power relations in Magic

Power relations are really what struck me for this re-read.  Forgive me if we have already covered this.  I do not remember, but I did not see any previous posts on it.

So since we know the plot already, we can focus on other things more acutely this time.  I was looking at how different the structure is.  We begin with the narrator's words in something like a quasi second person narration.  Madame Blanchard is addressed throughout, but she only has two lines of her own dialogue.  These must be there for a reason.

Perhaps they show that power relations are not what they seem.  The first line is about the narrator pulling too hard on her hair.  It is ironic, that Madame Blanchard is the lady of the house, yet within the context of this story, it is the narrator maid that gets all the power.  We only have her words to rely on as truth, and she quite literally has Madame Blanchard by the hair.

The second line is "Yes, and then?" which hints that she is so enthralled in the narrator's story to be at the mercy of it.  Thus the power structure is inverted:  the servant has power not only over Madame Blanchard, but also over us, by being the only vessel through which we are getting information.

Discussion: Gender in Theft and Magic

For discussion on Friday I would like to discuss the ideas of women and how Katherine Anne Porter portrays them. With "Theft," some things I was wondering include what his her relationship with these men and who knows about it? Also why is the female narrator never named even though we get the names of the men she meets? Also who gave her the purse is it one of the men we are introduced to or is it another male/person? If it is another person how does this person play a role in her life and how does that reflect her actions when the purse is stolen? For "Magic," I was wondering why does Porter develop this story in which a woman is competing, controlling and mistreating another woman? Also how do the men in this story play an important role? Also what can we say about the structure of the story, the conversation between Madame Blanchard and the girl brushing her hair? Why is the conversation between these women important?

Otherness in Maria Concepcion

****Catch up post****

I don't really have a whole lot to say that hasn't been said about Maria Concepcion. I was thinking about using this story in my essay, but I'm thinking against it. The reason being because I am writing about otherness in the Mexico stories, and I just think the MC would complicate things for me. MC tells about otherness through the "other's" eyes. Except that the person writing the story is not the other. I am not saying that Porter is a bad writer, or this is was a bad move on her part, but I cannot take anything in the story too seriously because she is still writing as an outsider. Even if she lived in Mexico, she is still not Mexican.

Actually, now that I'm writing this post, I just got a bunch of ideas on how I can use this story to benefit my essay. I love blogging!

The Body in "Flowering Judas"

Usually we talk about O'Connor's focus on the body, and specifically how it makes her work Grotesque. (Most recently in my mind is the film reel that Mrs. Shortley saw of the heaped up bodies after the Holocaust; her revelation, and the question, Who will remain whole? and the stroke when she joined that heap of bodies in the family car.)

But "Flowering Judas" has a real dismemberment of character, their limbs removed from their selves. Braggioni considers Laura the "simple girl who covers her great round breasts with thick dark cloth, who hides long, invaluably beautiful legs under a heavy skirt," her clothes the physical manifestation of that "holy talismanic word" No. (97) Laura keeps her body hidden away.

Whereas Braggioni puts his body on full display. He spills over the "straight-backed chair [that is] much too small for him", and "heaves himself into song", his fatness affecting not just his appearance but his behavior, his actions (90). When he's singing to Laura, "he sits pampering his bones in easy billows of fat" (98), his skeleton swallowed by the rest of his body. Even before Braggioni's fat years his body had nothing to hide. When he was young and desirable "he was so scrawny all his bones showed under his thin cotton clothing, and he could squeeze his emptiness to the very backbone with his two hands" (98).

Why the disconnect between young, skinny Braggioni and fat, older Braggioni? Is his hidden skeleton the core of him, those experiences in youth which direct a man in maturity? Is Braggioni's fat holy and talismanic, like Laura's No?

And what of the body of the guitar? When Braggioni plays it, "the strings of the instrument complain like exposed nerves" (98); Braggioni "curves his swollen fingers around the throat of the guitar and softly smothers the music out of it" (100). Braggioni is murdering the guitar, he's strangling the music from it; Laura is confined within her thick, unbecoming clothes (who is she under there?); Braggioni's skeleton is hidden deep within him.

Are they all so different, after all? All of them surrounded, all of them confined . . . Laura denies temptations, Braggioni denies himself nothing, and the guitar is something to be played, and used, at his discretion. For Braggioni, Laura is much the same as the guitar: an instrument of revolution. But Laura and Braggioni bear more resemblance to each other than they would probably like to admit, each of them hidden within themselves, Laura keeping her motives and desires safe and Braggioni swallowing his jilting and the kitchen sink.

Flowering Judas

While reading Flowering Judas I looked at the gender roles and how they portray negative roles for women. IN Flowering Judas. Laura develops these negative roles because she allows for Braggioni to control her. In the beginning of the story all she wants to do is go to bed but Braggioni is there so she is polite and allows him to play her a song she even asks him to play his favorite song if he does not have a new one. Later, Laura states, "sometimes she wishes to run away but she stays "(92). She never leaves she spends all her time wanting to achieve action but she is subbmissive and allows Braggioni and Eugenio to control her. Eugenio controls Laura from the grave even though his death was not entirely her fault she takes all the blame and is haunted by him. Braggioni also controls his wife, she stays at home while he partakes in the "revolution". Then when he returns home she treats him like a king, washing his feet and what not. These women in this story lay down their independence and allow these men to control them. What is Porter doing with this and why??

Gender in Maria Concepcion

So, today in my Shakespeare class, we were talking about how gender can be considered a performance (I believe we have had a similar discussion in this class as well).  I think this notion of gender as a performance could be applied to Maria Concepcion.  In many ways she is just performing her gender as she is cooking for her husband and taking care of the baby.  These are just things that women are expected to do.  It is interesting how Maria Concepcion is introduced.  This is why I first wanted to read the story (way back a couple months ago), because I was so interested in how we keep just getting little tidbits of information.  She is described as standing up straight and lugging fowls to clean and sell to the market.  This strikes me as kind of a masculine thing to do because she has to slit their necks, and it shows that she is the one who is supporting (or helping to support) her and her husband.  After that, she switches into the more "feminine" role of taking dinner to Juan and talking to the neighbors.  

Also, I think there may be some unexplored symbolism with honey.  Most analyses that I could make would be fairly obvious, but I especially think it is interesting that Maria Concepcion is buying some of Maria's honey when she first sees Juan with Maria Rosa.  

Braggioni and Mexico

So for the readings last night, I focused mainly on Flowering Judas because I started seeing Braggioni in a new light. The topic I am writing about is otherness and the Mexico stories and I think that Braggioni could represent an image of Mexico.

In the last class, we talked about how Mrs. Shortley was described as sort of a mythical creature and I think Braggioni is described in a similar way. I actually got an image of Jabba the Hut in my head, and Laura was like Princess Lea (I swear I'm not a Star Wars junkie!). I thought that this could be an image of Mexico through Porter's eyes (as Laura). Laura feels almost like a fake being in Mexico and doing what she is doing, yet she still connects herself with Braggioni. He is mythical, untouchable in many ways, and he could be the ineffable that Porter tries to attain while trying to integrate herself in the Mexican culture. Perhaps she felt she did since she wrote Maria Conception through the eyes of Mexicans.

Actually, as I'm writing this blog and thinking about my paper topic, I realized I need to actually research Mexico and the culture...

There is something so wrong and unnatural about Braggioni that he seems right. Could he be the exotic other representation of Mexico?

Maria Concepcion - Gender

As I was rereading Maria Concepcion today, I was actually drawn to the question of female roles in the story, as well. I found that Juan strayed from a woman who was, in many ways, superior to him; he was drawn to a younger, more fragile girl. Maria Concepcion is portrayed as an extremely independent, strong woman. What surprises me each time I read this story is the face that Maria C. blames Maria Rosa for the affair. After she witnesses it, Porter explains, "her anger against him died, and her anger against Maria Rosa grew" (pg 8). Being that Maria C. is represented with strength, almost as powerful as any man in the story, I would think that she'd understand Juan's faults in the situation. Because Maria C. is a female in Mexico, "...she [was] being punished for her pride" (pg 9). Had Juan paid for his own wedding, there would not have been such talk around town. Maria C. is portrayed as being at fault for the outcome of her marriage, mainly because she is undeserving of her power as a woman.

Gender/Sexuality in Maria C.

I wanted to post some of the questions that I am going to ask tomorrow so you guys can think over them while reading "Maria Concepcion". I am interested on how gender and sexuality are constructed in this story. I am trying to figure out what Porter is trying to do with the women in this story and want to explore what it means to be female in Mexico (vs. the United States). I find that there seems to be a stark difference between Maria Rosa and Maria Concepcion. While Maria Rosa has more "freedom" in her love/sex life, she ends up dead at the end of the story. She is young and opinionated and risks her life by going to war. Maria Concepcion is holding up the norms that are expected of her as a wife and religious woman, but she becomes a murderer. As a murderer, Maria is protected by the mother of her victim and the community, even though she slowly has distanced herself from her friends. She is unable to have her own child, and takes Maria Rosa's child and treats it as her own. Both women desire a man who is cowardly, vain, and lazy. I am not sure what to make out of all of these things, so hopefully this helps you guys to get thinking about the ideas that are presented.

Marriage in the Church

Juan Villegas' relationships with Maria Rosa and Maria Concepcion were different but his attitude towards both women was extremely selfish and insensitive. When he describes the way he feels about both of them to Givens he explains that he expects Maria Concepcion to be silent and subservient because she is his wife. He then says that Maria Rosa sometimes talks so much that he needs to hit her but that she pleases him more than his wife. When Maria Concepcion kills her husband's lover, her neighbors protect her from the law because "she is a woman of good reputation among [them], and Maria Rosa was not" (pg19). Maria Concepcion is a more sympathetic character in general because she was married in the church. I think that Katherine Anne Porter is suggesting that future generations of Mexicans who desire political change should be quiet and patient like Maria Concepcion. She didn't directly oppose Juan but was empowered enough to oppose him through the support of the institution of marriage and the opinion of the community. Maria Rosa died because she was a revolutionary who opposed tradition and was openly rebellious, but her son will learn how to bring about social change from his adopted mother, Maria Concepcion.

A Catholic D.P.

****Catch up post*****

So for a while my internet was not working, and I'm finally going to sit down and catch up on the posts. But I'm changing the dates so as to not disrupt the blogging flow.

We talked about in class that the DP might actually be Catholic and not Jewish. I had never thought of this before that particular class, and now I'm a little ashamed of myself. Granted, I do not know a whole lot about either religions, but I kind of feel like I fell into some racism in thinking that the Jews were the only ones being displaced.

I do find it interesting though, but I'm not really sure what to think of it, considering that not only is O'Connor Catholic, but racist. The DP is obviously murdered, after being treated terribly throughout the story through the narrative. However, when he dies everything falls apart (but maybe they were already falling apart, because of Mrs. Shortley's stroke?). His religion is described as primitive, so I guess I'm not sure how this would apply to O'Connor. I wish I had thought about this in class, but not I'm just putting the two together.

O'Connor Continued

After discussing "A Good Man..." and "The Displaced Person," in class, I've continued to think about the appearance of violence and grace in O'Connor's stories. Austin made an interesting point today, examining the idea that the beauty of O'Connor's works lies in her characters, whom she must love and sympathize with...they represent everyday people, whom we come across frequently...but what makes her stories intriguing is that she throws events of violence and grace at her characters, and allows us to watch how they handle the situations.

I think that I attempt to find the deeper messages O'Connor is giving us, and I miss the simple ones. She hands us simple characters who tend to be, quite frequently, stereotypes. The are people, who, if we ran into them on the street, we wouldn't know whether or not to take them seriously.

I keep wondering, does the misfit shoot the grandma by accident, in response to her moment of grace? In reference to Vince's topic for his paper...I wonder if violence occurs "on camera" in "A Good Man..." because it is unintentional? We hear gunshots off camera, yet we witness the grandmother's moment of grace...O'Connor only allows us to see the Misfit shoot her, in reaction to her calling him her son. In O'Connor's letter on page 1125, she says, "His shooting her is a recoil, a horror at her humanness." I think it is possible that O'Connor shows us this image because it is an accident on the Misfit's part. I don't doubt that his intentions in the story are to kill the grandmother, but I disagree with the timing. Maybe the only reason why this image is revealed to us is because it was on impulse...

The Misfit says, "It's no real pleasure in life" (pg. 153). Bobby Lee finds pleasure in his actions off camera, while the MIsfit finds his reasoning in the occurrence on camera.

O'Connor continues to confuse me, as she leads her characters to contradict themselves. My question today was, "Does O'Connor express her true opinions in her letters, but demonstrate her doubts/confusions through her characters in her stories? The reason why I am so hung up on O'Connor using her characters to portray her own opinions is because of the letter we discussed on page 1208. O'Connor writes to Maryat Lee, (Grace Bug) and tells her that if Griffin sat down next to her on a bus, she would have gotten up and sat by a "genuine Negro." She goes on to say, "I prefer Cassius Clay. "If a tiger move into the room with you...Just means you know you and him can't make out. Too much talk about hate'" (pg. 1208-1209).

So if this is O'Connor's genuine opinion, then how can we rule out the stereotypical characters she has created, and the assumption that they represent her own ideas? There is good and evil in everyone, and we all have doubts sometimes, even on topics that we stand strongly on...is it possible that the "ignorant" and "deplorable" judgements which her characters portray represent O'Connor's underlying uncertainties?

Maria Concepcion

On reading "Maria Concepcion" a second time, I am struck by the concealment of Maria's emotions. Even at the begining of the story when her thoughts on Givens are revealed, these opinions are almost glossed over. The whole story seems to revolve around everyone else in the story even though she is such a central character and the title is her name. I will put together some questions that deal more closely with questions from my topic, however I did notice Porter's ommision of Maria's inner feelings beyond her breakdown.

Second Glance: The Peacock Continues!

To continue with the discussion of the peacock:

I googled "peacock symbolism" and found it, again, to represent resurrection, but I found it also stands for immortality.

I find the opening scene an extremely interesting display. We are shown a peacock walking directly behind Mrs. Shortley up to the hill where they could see the entire countryside. Mrs. Shortley-- before we have any clue to her personality--is described as in "nature terms." She is mountainous in confidence, her strength comes from her "bulges of granite" that are her legs, and her eyes are compared to "icy blue points of light." Mrs. Shortley's character seems powerful and dominate over the landscape. She seems natural, a part of nature. When the two figures reach the top of the hill, however, it is the peacock who has the ability to see "something in the distance no one else could see." He doesn't have the blazing eyes--symbols of truth-- that Mrs. Shortley has, yet he can see what is unseen, a metaphorical instance of his ability to see the truth.

Funny then, that the peacock follows behind Mrs. Shortley, as if he knows she is incomplete, that her human nature, even her connection to the earth, is not natural, but falls short (oh the names...). The peacock symbolizes resurrection and immortality, two features that remain absence in Mrs. Shortly. In his procession behind her, he seems to mock her in the same way a person who knows of a pothole in the road would mock his enemy who he gave the privilege of being the "line leader."

The peacocks in this story, however, may not be as symbolically immortal as we thought. Mrs. Shortley used to have "twenty or thirty of those things on the place but [she] let them die off." Mrs. Shortley controlled their lives and their deaths.

Additionally, the priest, the very person who reveres the peacock for having so many "spots of sun" on its feathers and compares it to Christ, is described as naiive and almost incompetent. Who would be so ignorant as to leave the displaced person--a person, I still believed to have suffered through the Holocaust--in the hands of a xenophobic, discriminatory, unjust woman? The priest-- in the same way he is bewitched by the peacock-- seems bewitched by the idea that every person must have some kind of hospitality/altruistic ideal in him/her.

Maybe then, the peacock in this story symbolizes our naiive desires/ natural instincts to support the preconcieved notions we have already contrived about the world around us. Maybe the peacock really symbolizes our eagerness to conform to patterns set out for us....

The Displaced Person on the Second Read

Hello again! Oh, how I have missed blogging! I am not sure what we will be discussing in class today, so I'll just go on my own little path. As I am reading these stories for a second time, one thing that I am most interested in is the beginning of the stories. I think that a lot of the time, when I am reading a story for the first time, I am mainly reading for plot, so a lot of the symbolism or intricacies of the first page are lost on me as I am trying to figure out the setting, characters, and the basic plot. On the second read though, I already know the plot and the basic characters, so I am able to look at the structure of the story and some of the symbolism.

I think one of the biggest symbols in this story is the peacock. I am very interested in the symbolism of the peacock in Flannery O'Connor's stories, but I can't remember discussing the peacock in class last time (although that may have been the class I missed). The first copy of "A Good Man is Hard To Find" that I owned was yellow with a picture of a peacock and a woman following behind the peacock (a picture from the beginning of this story?). I did a little google search (I need to stop) and found what Cassie blogged previously, that in Christian art, peacocks represent immortality and its feathers represent omnipotence. Then, I found a website that said, "in the early part of the 20th century in the West, it was considered very bad luck to keep them in the home." Hmmmm.... These two interpretations are in contrast to one another, yet I think that they both work in this story. Is it fair to blame bad luck on a peacock, though?

I also thought it would be interesting to relate this to the idea of xenophobia. The peacock is kind of "the other" on a farm, isn't it? It's not a chicken, you can't eat it, that makes it kind of an odd animal to have. I think the peacock could be related to some of the bigger issues of xenophobia in this story. (And there's a sentence I never thought I would say!)

Okay, so I just reread Cassie's post from last time and I really like her connection between the eyes of the peacock and how Guizac is treated. I think this is a great connection between the symbolism and the xenophobia in the story.