The automobile is closely associated with both Death, and the Spirit in this story, and I wanted to go back to some loose threads that were bothering me during class.
The car is associated with Death in two instances: First, the old woman says he'll have to sleep in the car and he replies, "the monks of old slept in their coffins" (which they did, in order to remind them constantly of their mortality, and the importance of continuing obedience to God.) Secondly, when Shiftlet fixes the car--bringing together missing parts to make the car whole--he has "an expression of serious modesty on his face as if he had just raised the dead. The car needed new parts, so Shiftlet gathered them together to make his repairs--unfortunately, he can't get a replacement part for his arm. This notion of a car made up of parts comes up again when Shiftlet delivers a little Marxist speech about making a car as a whole, with a personal investment by the labourer, rather than a car made of alienated parts by infinite numbers of alienated labourers. The notion of missing and separate parts connects Shiftlet's body with the car itself. However, Shiftlet complicates that connection when he insists that "the spirit...is like a automobile, always on the move" (if, that is, it has the right parts). From this can we consider the possibility that Shiftlet's spirit, like his body, is not fully functional because it has been truncated in some way? It would /could be a perfectly good spirit (carrying out good intentions, etc.), if only in could overcome the diaspora of certain alienated spiritual elements--the gaps between Shiftlet's intentions and his actions could be closed with a tune-up if someone would take the trouble to gather the parts.
Showing posts with label The Life You Save May Be Your Own. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Life You Save May Be Your Own. Show all posts
Friday, December 5, 2008
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Life You Save
When re-reading this story, I was more concerned with the relationship between Lucynell and her mother. I thought that the fact that her mother was so determined to keep her daughter to herself, but she treats her daughter as an item that she can sell and bargain with. She eventually markets her daughter for a car and gives Shiftlet some more money for a "honeymoon". I just found it odd that she states how her daughter is such a good woman and she needs her but then she gives up all these beliefs and is offended when Shiftlet does not buy into her original offer. I find the whole trading her daughter off offensive, rather than allowing Lucynell to figure out her own situation she feel as if it is her motherly duty to find her someone to take care of her and give her the sense of a husband.
I also found the betrayl by the end of the story odd Shiftlet just ups and leaves her in the diner after she is described as being angelic by the buss boy. He also leaves her while she is sleeping which I find condemns him more he does not give her the chance to realize what he is doing before he vanishes. I just find the character of Shiftlet very shady and obuses the trust of the two women within this story. I think that may be a topic that O'Conner is portraying the fact of trusting someone and them betraying you and whether or not to trust them and who you can trust.
Which leds into what may be the purpose of Shiftlet and the hitchhiker and their conversation about mothers. Shiftlet first words to the boy are about his mother and how great she is but I find that really odd at first I was under the impression that he was talking about mothers because the boy is young and I thought that it was a way for Shiftlet to preach to the boy about being a hitchhiker. However, after reading it again I think that Shiftlet feels guilty about his betrayl of Lucynell not for her sake but for her mother's sake. Her mother had intursted him with her daughter and he discarded her like trash in the diner. I think that his remorse comes from something that occured between him and his mother and I think that is also the reason he agreed to take Lucynell in the first place.
I also found the betrayl by the end of the story odd Shiftlet just ups and leaves her in the diner after she is described as being angelic by the buss boy. He also leaves her while she is sleeping which I find condemns him more he does not give her the chance to realize what he is doing before he vanishes. I just find the character of Shiftlet very shady and obuses the trust of the two women within this story. I think that may be a topic that O'Conner is portraying the fact of trusting someone and them betraying you and whether or not to trust them and who you can trust.
Which leds into what may be the purpose of Shiftlet and the hitchhiker and their conversation about mothers. Shiftlet first words to the boy are about his mother and how great she is but I find that really odd at first I was under the impression that he was talking about mothers because the boy is young and I thought that it was a way for Shiftlet to preach to the boy about being a hitchhiker. However, after reading it again I think that Shiftlet feels guilty about his betrayl of Lucynell not for her sake but for her mother's sake. Her mother had intursted him with her daughter and he discarded her like trash in the diner. I think that his remorse comes from something that occured between him and his mother and I think that is also the reason he agreed to take Lucynell in the first place.
Shiftlet Saves Everyone's Lives
First I'd like to say that I think Shiftlet's betrayel of Lucynell in the Life You Save Could Be Your Own was deplorable. However, I think that one way of reading this story is that he saved their family from its own tragic stasis. When I re-read this story what I noticed much was that their house and their family seemed to be stuck in time. The ages of Lucynell and the old woman are not given, and it seems as though their existence could not be properly measured in years because they have been stuck in one place for an indefinite amount of time. When Shiftlet shows up he builds and creates in a place that is barren and ruinous. By improving their living conditions he saves them from themselves. Whether or not things go smoothly for Lucynell after he leaves her in the diner is up for interpretation, but personally I think she's better off out in the wide world than wasting her life in the middle of the woods. The old woman certainly must be satisfied with the assurance that Lucynell finally went off on her own. And Shiftlet obviously has the freedom he wanted all along. All in all I think everyone was better off after Shiftlet's intervened to help them out.
The Live You Save...Discussion
So for today's discussion I'd like to touch upon the ideas that Brad and Austin both posted on...
Like Brad, during the first read I focused on Shiftlet's betrayal of Lucynell...and this time around the waiter really creeped me out. However...he spoke the truth when he described her as "an angel of gawd." She was wearing a white dress, and if you picture her laying there with her eyes closed...and, for me, that paints a picture of a stereotypical angel (without the wings of course.)
I wouldn't give Shiftlet so much credit, though...even though he got her some food and paid for it, he LEFT her there...with the inability to communicate, and worse, to find her way home. Before they run off on their honeymoon, Shiftlet expresses being upset "by the word 'milk'" (pg. 180.) BUT he does milk her in a sense...yes, he fixed up the car, and yes, he marries her daughter, but he takes the car and leaves his wife. I think he gives himself too much credit because of how much he did for them; he fixed up their house/yard and got the car to start running again.
The last 2 1/2 pages drive me nuts. Up until the hitchhiker gets into the car with Shiftlet, O'Connor gives us a story with a flow that makes perfect sense to the reader. Honestly, every time I read this, I have to reread the last 2 1/2 pages over and over again...Austin pointed out that his "mother" - "an angel of gawd" represents both Lucynells. But this last segment, where he argues with the hitchhiker, and basically commands rain to wash away the slime of the earth, makes me think that he's either psychotic or a religious figure...so which is it?
Like Brad, during the first read I focused on Shiftlet's betrayal of Lucynell...and this time around the waiter really creeped me out. However...he spoke the truth when he described her as "an angel of gawd." She was wearing a white dress, and if you picture her laying there with her eyes closed...and, for me, that paints a picture of a stereotypical angel (without the wings of course.)
I wouldn't give Shiftlet so much credit, though...even though he got her some food and paid for it, he LEFT her there...with the inability to communicate, and worse, to find her way home. Before they run off on their honeymoon, Shiftlet expresses being upset "by the word 'milk'" (pg. 180.) BUT he does milk her in a sense...yes, he fixed up the car, and yes, he marries her daughter, but he takes the car and leaves his wife. I think he gives himself too much credit because of how much he did for them; he fixed up their house/yard and got the car to start running again.
The last 2 1/2 pages drive me nuts. Up until the hitchhiker gets into the car with Shiftlet, O'Connor gives us a story with a flow that makes perfect sense to the reader. Honestly, every time I read this, I have to reread the last 2 1/2 pages over and over again...Austin pointed out that his "mother" - "an angel of gawd" represents both Lucynells. But this last segment, where he argues with the hitchhiker, and basically commands rain to wash away the slime of the earth, makes me think that he's either psychotic or a religious figure...so which is it?
The Life you Save... Take two
For the first read, toward the end of the story I concentrated on Mr. Shiftlet's abandonment of Lucynell. Upon re-reading, I am now thinking it is someone else who trumps his deviat behavior: the bus boy at the restaurant. As she is sleeping, he "[bends] over again and very carefully touched his finger to a strand of the golden hair..." on page 182, right after being struck by her angelic innocence. This gives me the shivers. I am reminded of the rapist that picks up young Tarwater in his car in The Violent...
As always, O'Connor is crafting very perplexing characters. Sure, Shiftlet does abandon her, but he does give some of the money to pay for her to be fed. He could have pocketed all that money. As I have said, for me upon second reading, this is greatly overshadowed by any sexual violation that may later occur at the hand of the restaurant boy. Of course, it is Shiftlet that does leave her, to be they prey of anyone from the open road.
This also complicates things when taking the title into account. The title implies agency. The mother Lucynell and Mr. Shiftlet are both able to take action to bring about their desired results. The daughter Lucynell on the other hand is the only character that cannot do anything to save herself. Sure, being abandoned is horrible, but she also is at the mercy of this creep in the restaurant. She cannot save her life or anybody else's.
As always, O'Connor is crafting very perplexing characters. Sure, Shiftlet does abandon her, but he does give some of the money to pay for her to be fed. He could have pocketed all that money. As I have said, for me upon second reading, this is greatly overshadowed by any sexual violation that may later occur at the hand of the restaurant boy. Of course, it is Shiftlet that does leave her, to be they prey of anyone from the open road.
This also complicates things when taking the title into account. The title implies agency. The mother Lucynell and Mr. Shiftlet are both able to take action to bring about their desired results. The daughter Lucynell on the other hand is the only character that cannot do anything to save herself. Sure, being abandoned is horrible, but she also is at the mercy of this creep in the restaurant. She cannot save her life or anybody else's.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
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?
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?
Sunday, November 30, 2008
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.)
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.)
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
"Good Country People" vs. "The Life You Save May Be Your Own"
Or rather, Tom T. Shiftlet versus Manley Pointer. These two characters both appear to women living without men, though the impressions of men remain. As Michelle pointed out, "The two women in this story were referred to as Mrs. the whole way through, even though we do not see their husbands in this story. Because they are referred to as Mrs. they become identified by their marriage and by their husbands instead of by their own identities and their first names." Further, Glynese has suitors, and Carramae, "only fifteen but already married and pregnant," has a husband and father somewhere, though just where is left to the reader's imagination (264). Compare this to "The Life You Save," where the two Lucynells live with the phantom of their husband/father in the spectre of the car. The elder Lucynell shares, "That car ain't run in fifteen year . . . The day my husband died, it quit running." (173)
As the only male characters in the story, a lot can be interpreted about Pointer and Shiftlet's roles in these women's lives. Shiftlet's repair of the car is a feat of manliness: "With a volley of blasts it emerged from the shed . . . Mr. Shiftlet was in the driver's seat, sitting very erect." (178) It's a moment of male potency, both in the field of autorepair (traditionally masculine) and Shiftlet's posture. His role as husband to Lucynell the younger after their marriage is thereby conflated with his role as father to her, and husband to Lucynell the elder, the repair of the car being rather Elektric.
Pointer's role to the Hopewells seems far less Greek. To Mrs. Hopewell, he is an annoyance. She says, "'[H]e bored me to death but he was so sincere and genuine I couldn't be rude to him.'" (274) But to the younger Hopewell, Hulga/Joy, he is some kind of romantic hope. So excited for their picnic, she "didn't take anything to eat," and spruces herself up by putting "some Vapex on the collar of [her shirt] since she did not own any perfume" (276-77). Pointer's role as a romantic interest to Hulga/Joy seems to be more than similar with the misguided pairing of Shiftlet and the Lucynells, each female party seeing in this new male an opportunity and being terribly mistaken.
Because Pointer's theft of Hulga/Joy's leg puzzles me, I'd like at this time to continue in an analysis of Shiftlet - specifically as a kind of perversion of the Christ figure. Lucynell the elder's insistence on Shiftlet's marriage to her daughter purports him to be, in her eyes, some kind of savior - and who could blame her for thinking so? He is, after all and in his own words, a carpenter (175), famously the vocation of Jesus. And, before even introducing himself, Shiftlet turns to face the sunset: "He swung both his whole and his short arm up slowly so that they indicated an expanse of sky and his figure formed a crooked cross." (173) Shiftlet is put on the cross before word one to Lucynell! That notion of the cross being crooked is a masterwork of foreshadowing, as Lucynell puts all her egg's in Shiftlet's basket only to have her salvation ruined beyond recognition. Shiftlet as the crooked Christ figure becomes complete when he perverts Luke 23:34. "Then said Jesus, Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." Compare this to Shiftlet's line at the end of the story, "'Oh Lord! . . . Break forth and wash the slime from this earth!'" (183) Shiftlet's prayer is antithetical to Jesus' plea, one requesting the forgiveness of sinners, and the other the purging of them. The irony, of course, lies in it beginning to rain on Shiftlet. Water is a cleansing force, and Shiftlet, perhaps realizing that the slime that needs washing may be himself, "race[s] the galloping shower into Mobile." (183)
Yet, Shiftlet as the crooked Christ figure does not necessitate Pointer as all that. Where one could draw a comparison between Jesus healing the sick and Pointer robbing the maimed, calling the Bible salesman any kind of Jesus is probably giving him too much credit. Certainly Hulga/Joy sees him as some kind of salvation, but not in a Christian sense. After all, she sees herself as already saved - "'We are all damned,' she said, 'but some of us have taken off our blindfolds and see that there's nothing to see. It's a kind of salvation.'" (280) Instead of pat Christian saving, Hulga/Joy sees Pointer as a kind of avenue to intimacy, to experiencing what about life is enjoyable before her prophesied premature death. In imagining her seduction of Pointer, she fantasizes "that she took his remorse in hand and changed it into a deeper understanding of life," (276) the irony here lying in Hulga/Joy's own virginity - "[s]he had never been kissed before and she was pleased to discover that it was an unexceptional experience" (278) - and so this foray into sexuality could lead to a deeper understanding of life for her.
It is too bad that Pointer is no full-blown Christ figure, because Hulga/Joy makes no secret of her atheism (278). (Neither does her mother, 270.) It could have lessened the ache of being forsaken in that hayloft, cut off and alone. But in my mind, still, Pointer and Shiftlet are two very like peas - both are strange men with ulterior motives who crash a girls-only party. What is O'Connor saying about men in a world of women? On one level she says that they can't be trusted, that they are deceptive and ultimately no good. Are these stories an advocation of nunnery - of cloistering yourself from that foul sex - or, in fact, the opposite? Of exposing yourself to men, and becoming the better for it? Of course we have no way of knowing if Hulga/Joy makes the best of this situation, if she learns from it. She can be awfully dense for a genius.
And, a tad off-topic, I think O'Connor's choice to have Mr. Paradise fail to save Bevel and, one page later, title a story "The Life You Save May Be Your Own" just excellent.
As the only male characters in the story, a lot can be interpreted about Pointer and Shiftlet's roles in these women's lives. Shiftlet's repair of the car is a feat of manliness: "With a volley of blasts it emerged from the shed . . . Mr. Shiftlet was in the driver's seat, sitting very erect." (178) It's a moment of male potency, both in the field of autorepair (traditionally masculine) and Shiftlet's posture. His role as husband to Lucynell the younger after their marriage is thereby conflated with his role as father to her, and husband to Lucynell the elder, the repair of the car being rather Elektric.
Pointer's role to the Hopewells seems far less Greek. To Mrs. Hopewell, he is an annoyance. She says, "'[H]e bored me to death but he was so sincere and genuine I couldn't be rude to him.'" (274) But to the younger Hopewell, Hulga/Joy, he is some kind of romantic hope. So excited for their picnic, she "didn't take anything to eat," and spruces herself up by putting "some Vapex on the collar of [her shirt] since she did not own any perfume" (276-77). Pointer's role as a romantic interest to Hulga/Joy seems to be more than similar with the misguided pairing of Shiftlet and the Lucynells, each female party seeing in this new male an opportunity and being terribly mistaken.
Because Pointer's theft of Hulga/Joy's leg puzzles me, I'd like at this time to continue in an analysis of Shiftlet - specifically as a kind of perversion of the Christ figure. Lucynell the elder's insistence on Shiftlet's marriage to her daughter purports him to be, in her eyes, some kind of savior - and who could blame her for thinking so? He is, after all and in his own words, a carpenter (175), famously the vocation of Jesus. And, before even introducing himself, Shiftlet turns to face the sunset: "He swung both his whole and his short arm up slowly so that they indicated an expanse of sky and his figure formed a crooked cross." (173) Shiftlet is put on the cross before word one to Lucynell! That notion of the cross being crooked is a masterwork of foreshadowing, as Lucynell puts all her egg's in Shiftlet's basket only to have her salvation ruined beyond recognition. Shiftlet as the crooked Christ figure becomes complete when he perverts Luke 23:34. "Then said Jesus, Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." Compare this to Shiftlet's line at the end of the story, "'Oh Lord! . . . Break forth and wash the slime from this earth!'" (183) Shiftlet's prayer is antithetical to Jesus' plea, one requesting the forgiveness of sinners, and the other the purging of them. The irony, of course, lies in it beginning to rain on Shiftlet. Water is a cleansing force, and Shiftlet, perhaps realizing that the slime that needs washing may be himself, "race[s] the galloping shower into Mobile." (183)
Yet, Shiftlet as the crooked Christ figure does not necessitate Pointer as all that. Where one could draw a comparison between Jesus healing the sick and Pointer robbing the maimed, calling the Bible salesman any kind of Jesus is probably giving him too much credit. Certainly Hulga/Joy sees him as some kind of salvation, but not in a Christian sense. After all, she sees herself as already saved - "'We are all damned,' she said, 'but some of us have taken off our blindfolds and see that there's nothing to see. It's a kind of salvation.'" (280) Instead of pat Christian saving, Hulga/Joy sees Pointer as a kind of avenue to intimacy, to experiencing what about life is enjoyable before her prophesied premature death. In imagining her seduction of Pointer, she fantasizes "that she took his remorse in hand and changed it into a deeper understanding of life," (276) the irony here lying in Hulga/Joy's own virginity - "[s]he had never been kissed before and she was pleased to discover that it was an unexceptional experience" (278) - and so this foray into sexuality could lead to a deeper understanding of life for her.
It is too bad that Pointer is no full-blown Christ figure, because Hulga/Joy makes no secret of her atheism (278). (Neither does her mother, 270.) It could have lessened the ache of being forsaken in that hayloft, cut off and alone. But in my mind, still, Pointer and Shiftlet are two very like peas - both are strange men with ulterior motives who crash a girls-only party. What is O'Connor saying about men in a world of women? On one level she says that they can't be trusted, that they are deceptive and ultimately no good. Are these stories an advocation of nunnery - of cloistering yourself from that foul sex - or, in fact, the opposite? Of exposing yourself to men, and becoming the better for it? Of course we have no way of knowing if Hulga/Joy makes the best of this situation, if she learns from it. She can be awfully dense for a genius.
And, a tad off-topic, I think O'Connor's choice to have Mr. Paradise fail to save Bevel and, one page later, title a story "The Life You Save May Be Your Own" just excellent.
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