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.
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?
"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.
Monday, December 1, 2008
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?
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.
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.
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?
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.
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?
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?
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?
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.)
"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?
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?
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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