Bobbie Ann Mason’s “Shiloh” is a story not only about the dissolution of a marriage, but also about the evolution of two people. Leroy and Norma Jean, the main characters, have to maneuver through new territory to redefine their relationship after Leroy’s trucking accident. With their traditional roles upset, “he has the feeling that they are waking up out of a dream together – that they must create a new marriage” (9). As Leroy is now unable to pursue his former job and therefore maintain their status quo, the couple must reevaluate their bond and their goals and come to the conclusion that they are no longer compatible.
As Terry Thomspon noted, much of Leo’s characterization centers on his obsession with log cabins. His wish to build one for Norma Jean manifests in a very infantile way. His first log cabin is built from “notched Popsicle sticks” (6). From these humble beginnings, Leroy moves on to the slightly more sophisticated Lincoln Log cabins. Finally, his coveted blueprints arrive for the house that will never be built. Both Norma Jean and her mother react negatively to these attempts: Norma Jean reminds Leroy that a log cabin would not be allowed in a subdivision; Mabel easily and derisively takes the roof off of his model cabin and sets her coffee cup on his blueprints. When he and Norma Jean finally drive by a real and really unattractive log cabin in Shiloh, Leroy feels the need to explain “apologetically” that this is not the kind of house he meant (126). To Leroy, the cabins represent a home, a place where his marriage can be fixed. At the very least, the cabins are associated with the past (ie, the historic cabin at Shiloh), and Leroy would like to return to the couple’s state when they were first married. Leroy’s plans for a cabin are a dream, a child-like fantasy manifested in a rather appropriately immature way.
Interestingly, only one of the main characters truly changes throughout the course of the story. Leroy stays pretty much the same: incompetent and unsure how to best put his life back together. It is Norma Jean and her new interests that move the story along. Although through several reminisces we learn that once Leroy and Norma Jean were content, the same does not appear to be true now. Norma Jean undergoes a gradual sophistication as Leroy goes through a corresponding descent into apathy. This transformation, finally leading to Norma Jean leaving Leroy to go out in the world on her own two feet, is exemplified through her musical acumen (as shown by Blythe and Sweet). When Leroy first gives her the piano, she can barely pick out “Chopsticks.” Later, she moves on to rock music and even Latin interpretations of modern songs, showing a change and growth that Leroy does not echo. Eventually she moves beyond playing music altogether and instead focuses on her new passion: writing. This step, too, represents Norma Jean’s ascent into intellectual thought and her steps away from Leroy.
Leroy sees these changes in Norma Jean; he notes inspiredly that “something is happening” (86). However, he feels paralyzed; having been physically crippled by his accident, he is now emotionally crippled by his wife’s intellectual mobility. In fact, as several critics have noted, it is also possible to notice a distinct reversal of male/female roles as the story progresses and the rift between the couple grows wider and wider. As he becomes more and more home-bound, Leroy clings more and more to his plans for a log cabin, as if their staid tradition will keep everything the way it should be. Instead, everything is topsy-turvy: Norma Jean lifts weight, while Leroy is physically incapacitated; Norma Jean attempts to ameliorate her marketable abilities, such as writing, while Leroy pursues such traditionally female pastimes as needlepoint; Norma Jean goes out for most of the day, while Leroy stays at home. These changes help lead up to the final breaking point; when it finally comes, Leroy is not surprised, as he has known the whole time that she will leave him and has merely been “waiting for time to pass” (94).
The final acknowledgement of the dissolution of the now hopeless marriage occurs, appropriately, in a graveyard. Norma Jean rather blatantly tells Leroy that she doesn’t want to be with him anymore. In addition to the factors mentioned above, there are other reasons that Leroy and Norma Jean could not stay together. Most important of these was the death of their baby, Randy, which left a deep scar on their emotional bonds. Furthermore, Leroy and Norma Jean simply have nothing in common anymore. Neither Leroy nor the reader is surprised when Norma Jean confirms their separation; instead, the overwhelming feeling at the end of the tale is that of sadness and regret for the time spent in the wrong relationship.
(813)
Articles I read to spark inspiration:
Mason's Shiloh
Terry Thompson, The Explicator(Washington) , Fall 1995, Vol. 54, Iss. 1, pg. 54
Mason's Shiloh
Hal Blythe, Charlie Sweet, The Explicator(Washington) , Fall 2001, Vol. 60, Iss. 1, pg. 52
Questions for Discussion:
How does the paragraph about Norma Jean’s personality as recently discovered by Leroy help us understand their separation?
How do you feel about Leroy’s passive attitude – ie, how he knows that Norma Jean will leave him but does nothing? Why do you think he is not more proactive?
To what extent did the death of their baby hurt their relationship? Should they have tried again? Look closely at the hospital passage – does Leroy’s inability to recognize Norma Jean count as foreshadowing?
What role does Mabel play?
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Sunday, September 21, 2008
A Good Man? Try a Good Pair of Jeans.
The larger portion of “A Good Man is Hard to Find” showcases a day-to-day snapshot of a rather annoying family (Bailey, the children, the wife, and the grandmother), exploring just how manipulative and secretive the grandmother can be to get her way. Most of the story is peopled with these unlikeable, rather one-dimensional characters – that is, until the disconcerting and troubled Misfit saunters in and brings the action to a close. In the same way, religion does not seem to play a large role in the majority of the story until the very (upsetting) end. However, it is this discussion of religion that occurs between the bewildered and in shock grandmother as she argues for her life and the skewed, irrational logic of the Misfit that I wished to explore further.
The Misfit seems to have at least a rudimentary knowledge of liturgy, in keeping with his strange appearance as a bespectacled, scholarly killer. He reveals his unhealthy and distorted state of mind when he lays out his black-and-white thinking: he claims that either the stories of Jesus are true, in which case one should devote one’s entire life to him, or the stories are completely not true. Although the reasoning thus far does not seem out of the ordinary, it is the next conclusion that the Misfit draws that illustrates so clearly how sick he is: he says, “it’s nothing for you to do but enjoy the few minutes you got left the best way you can by killing somebody” (135). He becomes more and more agitated, striking the ground and letting his voice spiral higher with his emotions. The grandmother, destroyed by the off-screen death of her entire family, is so muddled that she does not even know anymore what she thinks. Finally, the grandmother and the Misfit’s tortured conversation comes to a close as she is finally pushed over the edge and sees the Misfit in a whole new light. In a gesture reminiscent of a forgiving God reaching towards Adam with a divine touch on Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel, she reaches towards the Misfit. Calling him “one of [her] babies…one of [her] own children!” she touches him on the shoulder, trying to forge a bridge of humanity and last hope between her and the tortured madman (137). Just as many in the Christian faith believe in the laying on of hands as a path to health, the grandmother attempts to save the man she finally recognizes as a lost soul, not just an evil madman. The Misfit, however, cannot bear to be faced with this reaching out; he reacts as if instead of making a very human and almost divine act, the grandmother had been a “snake” trying to harm him – he shoots her dead and attempts to carry on his life with as it nothing had changed (137).
The Misfit’s skewed view of the world makes up some of the most confusing paragraphs of the story; while the earlier parts of the family’s journey had been narrated by plot, this section seems to be a sickening whirlwind of rather one-sided dialogue and illogical rhetoric. However, these portions are an important insight into the Misfit, the most significant character (besides the grandmother) in the whole story. While the discussion of religion draws out the deaths of the family and the sickness of the Misfit into a wider significance (Is there a meaning beyond the ugly reality of death? Is the Misfit all evil or just misunderstood?), it also serves to make the reader feel uncomfortable and wanting to cringe away. That final moment, when the grandmother becomes something more, is one of the most significant of the story. There is something dirty about the way the Misfit talks about Jesus, and it is this inherent wrongness that leaves the reader with a lasting impression after the story has been finished with no good man to be found.
(652)
The Misfit seems to have at least a rudimentary knowledge of liturgy, in keeping with his strange appearance as a bespectacled, scholarly killer. He reveals his unhealthy and distorted state of mind when he lays out his black-and-white thinking: he claims that either the stories of Jesus are true, in which case one should devote one’s entire life to him, or the stories are completely not true. Although the reasoning thus far does not seem out of the ordinary, it is the next conclusion that the Misfit draws that illustrates so clearly how sick he is: he says, “it’s nothing for you to do but enjoy the few minutes you got left the best way you can by killing somebody” (135). He becomes more and more agitated, striking the ground and letting his voice spiral higher with his emotions. The grandmother, destroyed by the off-screen death of her entire family, is so muddled that she does not even know anymore what she thinks. Finally, the grandmother and the Misfit’s tortured conversation comes to a close as she is finally pushed over the edge and sees the Misfit in a whole new light. In a gesture reminiscent of a forgiving God reaching towards Adam with a divine touch on Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel, she reaches towards the Misfit. Calling him “one of [her] babies…one of [her] own children!” she touches him on the shoulder, trying to forge a bridge of humanity and last hope between her and the tortured madman (137). Just as many in the Christian faith believe in the laying on of hands as a path to health, the grandmother attempts to save the man she finally recognizes as a lost soul, not just an evil madman. The Misfit, however, cannot bear to be faced with this reaching out; he reacts as if instead of making a very human and almost divine act, the grandmother had been a “snake” trying to harm him – he shoots her dead and attempts to carry on his life with as it nothing had changed (137).
The Misfit’s skewed view of the world makes up some of the most confusing paragraphs of the story; while the earlier parts of the family’s journey had been narrated by plot, this section seems to be a sickening whirlwind of rather one-sided dialogue and illogical rhetoric. However, these portions are an important insight into the Misfit, the most significant character (besides the grandmother) in the whole story. While the discussion of religion draws out the deaths of the family and the sickness of the Misfit into a wider significance (Is there a meaning beyond the ugly reality of death? Is the Misfit all evil or just misunderstood?), it also serves to make the reader feel uncomfortable and wanting to cringe away. That final moment, when the grandmother becomes something more, is one of the most significant of the story. There is something dirty about the way the Misfit talks about Jesus, and it is this inherent wrongness that leaves the reader with a lasting impression after the story has been finished with no good man to be found.
(652)
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Sicknesses and Saviors
Jhumpa Lahiri’s “Interpreter of Maladies” presents two families that, although they are from different cultures and countries, share a lack of center. The Das family, which we are introduced to as characters, is crude, immature, and hides a dark secret. Mr. Kapiri’s family, which we learn about through Mr. Kapiri’s inner thoughts, is sad and based on a sense of obligation and tradition, rather than truth or love. The families have in common a spouse dissatisfied with a counterpart, regardless of whether the marriage came to be through a parent’s direct arrangement (Mr. Kapiri) or a parent’s gentle expectation (the Das family). However, the characters differing viewpoints on how to deal with their similarly disappointing situations, based on inherent differences in upbringing, are most interesting to me.
To Mr. Kapiri, the Das family looks Indian but “dresse[s] as foreigners [do]” (2). Mrs. Das’s has tried to solve the problem of not loving her husband by being unfaithful and searching for an outside vitality, which she attempts to excuse through her unhappiness. Mr. Kapasi, on the other hand, has spent his entire life finding different jobs and “the countless other ways he tried to console his wife,” working hard to appease his sense of duty (77). Mrs. Das is imaginative and creative, seeing “a big responsibility” in what Mr. Kapasi had always thought of as “a thankless occupation” (74, 76). Mrs. Das confesses her dark secrets to Mr. Kapasi because she thinks of his job on a higher level; instead of a literal interpreter of patient’s words, he is a metaphorical instructor, a guru-translator that can find her a spiritual “remedy” for all her moral ills (160). Mr. Kapasi, the solid, hard-working, straightforward man, is confused by her beliefs. Although he is flattered at first by her attention, he eventually realizes that she is crude, selfish, and almost repulsive, as evidenced by her blatant disregard of his instructions not to let the monkeys have food that leads to Bobby’s near dismemberment.
In contrast to Mrs. Das, whom he at first admires and is dazzled by, Mr. Kapasi has traditional values and a straightforward mindset. He does his job and he does it well; he is of the old country whereas Mrs. Das is of the selfish new generation. Mr. Kapasi’s sadness is based off of a sense of unfulfilled potential; when he was young, he reminisces, he knew nine languages and an intense intellectual curiosity. Over the years, due to familial stresses and the day-to-day grind, his knowledge has disintegrated to “only a handful of European phrases” (77). Mrs. Das, on the other hand, has never really worked for intellectual advancement; she spent all her time in college with Mr. Das, to the point of having little to no friends. She is incurious and not intellectual. Eventually, Mr. Kapasi realizes that he has merely been hoping for Mrs. Das to be the different type of woman he needs; the one with whom he can exchange letters and have an affair of the mind. Finally, however, when the slip of paper with Mr. Kapasi’s address “flutter[s] away in the wind,” he does not protest because he has recognized his complete incompatibility with Mrs. Das (179). In the end, “Interpreter of Maladies” is a story about two lost souls, ailing in similar ways but needing different cures.
(554)
To Mr. Kapiri, the Das family looks Indian but “dresse[s] as foreigners [do]” (2). Mrs. Das’s has tried to solve the problem of not loving her husband by being unfaithful and searching for an outside vitality, which she attempts to excuse through her unhappiness. Mr. Kapasi, on the other hand, has spent his entire life finding different jobs and “the countless other ways he tried to console his wife,” working hard to appease his sense of duty (77). Mrs. Das is imaginative and creative, seeing “a big responsibility” in what Mr. Kapasi had always thought of as “a thankless occupation” (74, 76). Mrs. Das confesses her dark secrets to Mr. Kapasi because she thinks of his job on a higher level; instead of a literal interpreter of patient’s words, he is a metaphorical instructor, a guru-translator that can find her a spiritual “remedy” for all her moral ills (160). Mr. Kapasi, the solid, hard-working, straightforward man, is confused by her beliefs. Although he is flattered at first by her attention, he eventually realizes that she is crude, selfish, and almost repulsive, as evidenced by her blatant disregard of his instructions not to let the monkeys have food that leads to Bobby’s near dismemberment.
In contrast to Mrs. Das, whom he at first admires and is dazzled by, Mr. Kapasi has traditional values and a straightforward mindset. He does his job and he does it well; he is of the old country whereas Mrs. Das is of the selfish new generation. Mr. Kapasi’s sadness is based off of a sense of unfulfilled potential; when he was young, he reminisces, he knew nine languages and an intense intellectual curiosity. Over the years, due to familial stresses and the day-to-day grind, his knowledge has disintegrated to “only a handful of European phrases” (77). Mrs. Das, on the other hand, has never really worked for intellectual advancement; she spent all her time in college with Mr. Das, to the point of having little to no friends. She is incurious and not intellectual. Eventually, Mr. Kapasi realizes that he has merely been hoping for Mrs. Das to be the different type of woman he needs; the one with whom he can exchange letters and have an affair of the mind. Finally, however, when the slip of paper with Mr. Kapasi’s address “flutter[s] away in the wind,” he does not protest because he has recognized his complete incompatibility with Mrs. Das (179). In the end, “Interpreter of Maladies” is a story about two lost souls, ailing in similar ways but needing different cures.
(554)
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