A Nattering Nabob of Negativity

Rereading "The Enduring Chill," I found myself interested in Asbury's intense death-wish. It seems that he absolutely wants to die, but not because of any profound sadness, grief, or pain. Sarah's previous post touched on this, saying that what Asbury wants is a "grand narrative," which, since he has done nothing grand in life, must be acted out through death. I think this is true, but might go a little further. The operative word here is 'grand'; something grand is vibrant and unavoidable, it must be payed attention to and taken seriously. I think this is Asbury's motive. He wants desperately to be taken seriously: he will not accept Dr. Block's attentions because the man is a fool, he cannot accept his friend Goetz' assertion that pain is an illusion (because then his pain is meaningless), and he cannot win the friendship of his mother's workers. Basically, no one takes Asbury seriously besides his own mother, who is heaped with scorn in return. So, Asbury convinces himself and everyone else he can that he is doomed, and begins to make rounds with people he wishes to impress, which of course leads to the central ironies of the story.

On his "death bed," Asbury calls first for what he thinks will be an intellectual equal, the Jesuit Father Finn. Their encounter makes it clear that Asbury has no serious interest in religion or even religious thought, he just wanted someone he could display his intelligence to, and becomes incensed when he realizes the priest has no interest in flattering him. Next, Asbury has his mother's workers come to visit him, evidently under the impression that they share some meaningful connection and will be able to appreciate the seriousness of his death. Instead, Randall and Morgan seem embarrassed and eager to leave the situation. They even refuse to acknowledge his decrepit state, the ultimate insult to a grand narrative of death.

Having been unable to find anyone impressed merely by disease and approaching death, Asbury resolves to die. "I'm going to die," Asbury repeats incessantly, almost like a mantra, willing itself into reality. But his self-aggrandizing suicidal tendency will not be accommodated; the same doctor he derides as a fool discovers the cause of Asbury's illness, and it's not so bad. In fact, it was caused by his drinking unpasteurized milk from his mother's cows, an act which he was quite proud of himself for committing at the time. This dramatic irony is worse for Asbury than death. Dying is important. Dying is something. But as it turns out, all he gets is a cosmic pie in the face from his creator (o'connor), like a mother scolding a lazy child.