Mercy in "The Artificial Nigger"

After reading this story, I wanted to approximate a definition for mercy, as O'Connor understands it. Mr. Head's deductions near the end of the story tell us quite a bit - that "it [mercy] grew out of agony, which is not denied to any man and which is given in strange ways to children"; that mercy requires humility, as shown when the action of it "covered [Mr. Head's] pride like a flame and consumed it"; and that mercy is a ticket to heaven, as "no sin was too monstrous for him to claim as his own, and since God loved in proportion as He forgave" (230-31).

On agony: Mr. Head's denial of Nelson to the toppled woman plunges him into guilt. At the sight of the boy's eyes, which are "triumphantly cold," with "no light in them, no feeling, no interest, " Mr. Head despairs, knowing "what man would be like without salvation." (229) Mr. Head is completely disillusioned, with himself and his ability, just as Nelson is with Mr. Head - this is agony, "given in strange ways" to Nelson, and by knowledge of what he's done to the boy, a realization unto itself to Mr. Head.

On humility: Mr. Head all but prostrates himself before the fat man walking the dogs, his desperation like that of "someone shipwrecked on a desert island" (228). This event is a stark contrast to the proud Mr. Head at the beginning of the story, who is in constant (rather humorous) competition with his grandson. Mr. Head feels "entirely confident that he [can] carry out the oral mission of the coming day" (211), the confidence amounting to rather a lot of hubris for such a small task.

Nelson is humbled as well by his trip to the city. It is a point of contention between the grandfather and grandson on just how many times Nelson has been to the city; he insists this is his second trip "because he had been born there." (211) This claim persists throughout the story until, in its closing words, Nelson lays off, muttering, "'I'm glad I've went once, but I'll never go back again!'" (231) This change in Nelson proves a counterpoint to Mr. Head's own journey towards mercy; he is not the transgressor, he is the victim, but is humbled all the same.

On salvation: The trip to the city is the launching pad for Mr. Head and Nelson to better understand the nature of sin. Nelson imagines the city sewers as connected to the entrance of hell (220); Mr. Head describes the city as a "nigger heaven," the term rife with implications as to just who Mr. Head thinks belongs there (222); and, as they disembark from it in their town once again, the train "disappear[s] like a frightened serpent into the woods" (231), the instrument of temptation, though given into once, scared off by the man and the boy who have seen the light. When Mr. Head realizes that "he was forgiven for sins from the beginning of time . . . until the present, when he had denied poor Nelson" (231), he sees that the agony of all those sins, and the humility that they cause in him, are in fact just entry fees to heaven. "[S]ince God loved in proportion as He forgave, he felt ready at the instant to enter Paradise." (231)

So in fact Mr. Head's confidence in completing a moral mission is not unjustified, just unfocused - both he and Nelson escape the city with a better approximation of sin, and what transformation they must undergo to relieve themselves of that burden, to accept God's mercy and join Him in heaven.