Similarities between Uncle Nelson and Sylvie

Earlier we discussed how Uncle Nelson in Sag Harbor has a similar personality to Sylvie in Houskeeping. Both live differently from most others--including the other adults in their respective families--and have relatively laid-back personalities. I think it is fair to say that both Uncle Nelson and Sylvie behave like children (or at least much younger than their actual ages) at times, with Sylvie needing her nieces to remind her to wear boots in the snow and Uncle Nelson sitting at the kids' dinner table and driving around with his nephews, buying them beer.

I would also argue that Uncle Nelson and Sylvie are very much alike in the perspective on life they introduce to the adolescent main characters of Sag Harbor and Housekeeping. Before Sylvie came into their lives, Ruth and Lucille always had to obey their grandmother and great-aunts' rules about how to act, and couldn't voice their feelings very much. Similarly, Benji has to follow his father's strict orders in Sag Harbor or else face tough physical and emotional consequences.

When Sylvie becomes Ruth and Lucille's guardian, her free-spirited attitude and lack of experience with raising children allows her nieces to do and say what they want and therefore express or discern their own ideas. Uncle Nelson's interactions with Benji are similar in that Uncle Nelson seems to put Benji at ease. Benji enjoys when Uncle Nelson is around and I think finds it comforting that Uncle Nelson is an adult but hasn't lost all the fun that comes with being a kid (in contrast to Benji's dad, who is much more uptight).

Uncle Nelson and Sylvie represent ways of life that clearly oppose the ways in which Benji and Ruth were raised before, drawing the adolescents to the less rigid lifestyles. I think it is important that in each of these novels, going against the lifestyle they have long been raised with is seen as a positive thing for the adolescent main characters. For Ruth, that means associating with Sylvie's more transient point-of-view as opposed to the traditional routine of her her grandmother, and for Benji, that means taking advantage of his fun times with Uncle Nelson because he doesn't like his father's strict, harsh mentality.

Generation Separation

In class yesterday, we began talking about the relationship between Benji's generation and his parents' generation in Sag Harbor. After thinking about what Colson Whitehead mentions about Benji's parents' lives and how Benji and his friends feel about issues of race, I have a few ideas about some potential connections between the parents' experiences during the Civil Rights Movement and the kids' relatively privileged way of living:

One of the differences between Benji's generation and his parents' that I noticed early on is their respective relationships to the Civil Rights Movement. Benji and his brother Reggie were both born after the peak of the Civil Rights Movement in the 1960s, so they never experienced the more extreme forms of segregation that his parents have endured. Another sign of the disconnect Benji has from the Civil Rights Movement is articulated as early as the first chapter of the novel, when Benji discusses not knowing much about many famous black people. On page 13 of my book (the hardcover version), Whitehead writes,

"One of my uncles would be over and mention Marcus Garvey and I'd ask, 'Who's that?,' as the eyes of all the adults in the room slitted for a sad round of tsk-tsking. 'Who's Toussaint L'Ouverture?' I'd stupidly inquire, and my father would shoot back, 'You don't know who Toussaint L'Ouverture is? What do they teach you at that fancy school I bust my ass to send you to?' Not 'Iconic Figures of Black Nationalism,' that's for sure."

There is an awkward difference between Benji's obliviousness to pivotal figures in Black history and his parents' noticing and possibly even being a part of the Civil Rights Movement and its immediate effects. This passage from the first chapter of Sag Harbor illustrates that it can be uncomfortable for Benji to ask about aspects of the Civil Rights Movement simply because it is so engrained in his parents' lives that they can't believe he isn't more attuned to or knowledgeable of it.

On a related note, I think readers of Sag Harbor could see Benji and his friends' toughness, awareness, or--what some people in class have suggested--oversensitivity when it comes to the role of race in their lives as a reflection of their parents' earlier struggles with how they were treated for being black. The kids have been privileged as far as their socioeconomic status their entire lives, while their parents had to endure growing up in a different, racially-segregated time. This is not to say that Benji and his friends are overreacting when it comes incidents that might involve race, but perhaps they feel like they have to justify their privilege in some way or have something to prove to their parents, whose struggles with race relations have been more extreme. Maybe some of the kids' reactions when they think they are being discriminated against racially (like when Martine pats Benji on the head at work and they read it as a demeaning, racist gesture that they should respond to or possibly get back at Martine for) is their way of trying to apply the same resilience about race that their parents needed during the Civil Rights Movement.

The connection can be interpreted in a few different directions, but I see it as either: 1.) Benji and his friends think they have to justify their relatively privileged lives because of parents' struggles, or 2.) they are accustomed to being sensitive to race relations because of their prior experiences and what they have learned from their parents, and just naturally react strongly to implications of how being black influences their lives. It will be interesting to see how this theme is illustrated throughout the remainder of the novel. Getting more details about Benji's parents and other adults and their ideas about race may help understand Benji's attitude as a result.

The Madame's Message

We had time in class the other day to think about the most important thing Madame Eva van Outryve de Crommelynck tells Jason in the chapter "Solarium" of Black Swan Green. What I immediately thought of was the Madame's emphasis of truthfulness above anything else.

There are a few ways in which the Madame discusses the importance of focusing on the truth, not the least of which is related to Jason's identity. She tells Jason to focus less on hiding his true identity as a poet in fear of what others' impressions might be. What I gathered from this is that she not only thinks Jason is being deceiving (to others and himself) about his personality and identity by writing poetry under another name, but that the Madame also wants to tell Jason that you can never entirely predict how people will react to your actions, so you might as well be upfront about them. I think this advice is something Jason should really internalize because in the end, others' ideas about his poetry will not change the fact that Jason is a good writer. It is also evident throughout the novel that hiding the fact that he writes poetry doesn't make Jason's life perfect in the slightest, so I think the Madame's idea that masking your true identity is deceitful and pointless is something Jason needs to hear.

Another instance when the Madame emphasizes the importance of being true is when she asks Jason about the writers he is familiar with. Though she may come off as slightly harsh when criticizing the type of literature Jason reads, her message about being familiar with authors who write about what is real makes sense. On page 161, after Jason mentions that he likes reading fantasy, sci-fi, and Stephen King books, the Madame replies:

"'Fantasy'? Pffft! Listen to Ronald Reagan's homilies! 'Horror'? What of Vietnam, Afghanistan, South Africa? Idi Amin, Mao Tse-Tung, Pol Pot? Is not enough horror? I mean, who are your masters? Chekhov?"

She makes a pretty clear argument for why she doesn't see much importance in writing about what is untrue, like fantasy. The Madame doesn't think there is a need to make things up when there are already so many unbelievable, exciting, horrific, true things taking place in our world already. I agree with her idea that writing about what is true can often be more compelling than a completely invented story, and can have more of an impact on readers who can relate.

Lastly, the Madame's focus on what is true continues into her discussion of defining beauty. She tells Jason that you can't define a concept like beauty, so don't worry about trying to. Instead, just know that beauty is true and that it exists, and that's what's important. Similar to her point that Jason should accept his identity as a poet and stop hiding himself, the Madame's idea that simply knowing that something is true--without trying to define or change it--can be enough. Like the way beauty exists but cannot be clearly defined, Jason should know that he is a writer and not try to limit himself by being defined as something he isn't.

Structure of "Bridle Path"

A couple of days ago in class we had time to write about and discuss the structure of the chapter "Bridle Path" in Black Swan Green. We talked about how Jason Taylor's journey to find the end of the path is very episodic; Jason faces many obstacles along the way, like being chased by Dobermans, witnessing the fight between Burch and Wilcox, and ending up on the lawn of the "Little Malvern Loonybin."

I think Jason's way of narrating these scenes is very reflective of his character. A number of people in classed raised the point that the chapter is similar in structure to Tolkien's The Hobbit, which makes sense when considering Jason's age and interests. Throughout Black Swan Green, we have seen Jason's perspective and quirks as a thirteen-year-old boy, including how he finds excitement in everyday things. Jason's "incursion" into his father's office is an obvious example of Jason's vivid imagination and adrenaline. On the second page of the novel, he writes:

"Dad's swivelly chair's a lot like the Millennium Falcon's laser tower. I blasted away at the skyful of Russian MiGs streaming over the Malverns. Soon tens of thousands of people between here and Cardiff owed me their lives. The glebe was littered with mangled fusilages and blackened wings. I'd shoot the Soviet airmen with tranquilizer darts as they pressed their ejector seats. Our marines'll mop them up. I'd refuse all medals. 'Thanks, but no thanks,' I'd tell Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan when Mum invited them in, 'I was just doing my job.'"

He goes on to describe his jump downstairs to answer the door as a "death-defying bound," emphasizing his mentality as a child: like many other kids, Jason at times exaggerates when he is storytelling, and little, unique things like jumping downstairs excite him. In addition to his imaginative language, Jason mentions the map of Middle-earth he has in his bedroom at the beginning of the chapter "Bridle Path." His interest in Tolkien's work and active imagination seem to influence how he narrates his own life, so to me it isn't very surprising that "Bridle Path" has elements of episodic, fantasy-style writing.

Another part of the structure of "Bridle Path" that stood out to me when I was reading it is that the various events that take place really flow together, without distinct transitions. Jason doesn't clearly explain exactly how much time has passed or how he gets from one place to another. For example, on page 77, after the scene of the fight, Jason moves on to being at the Christmas-tree plantation. After Dean says, "C'mon, Jason, better be off now," there is no description of what happens immediately after that. The next line of the novel just describes being at the Christmas-tree plantation.

These weak transitions made the chapter slightly confusing to me as a reader. I found myself wondering how much time passed between such scenes and what could have possibly transpired between them. These unclear parts of the chapter might reflect Jason's own perspective as a narrator too. Not only is he in an imaginative frame of mind, but he might also be confused about how the things took place. (The scene with the Dobermans and the time at the "Loonybin" are both very surreal, and made me wonder whether they actually took place.) In this way, the structure of "Bridle Path" is definitely a reflection of Jason's mindset and own potential confusion about the strange events of the day.

Sylvie as the Catalyst

There is a considerable shift in the lives of Ruth and Lucille once Sylvie arrives in Housekeeping. Sylvie is an interesting character for a number of reasons: she goes against the ordinary day-to-day life carried out by her mother, provides Ruth and Lucille with the ability to act freely as individuals, and tells Lucille and Ruth about their mother. Sylvie inspires a lot of change around the house, not the least of which is Lucille's decision to leave and ultimately never see her sister or aunt again.

It is immediately clear that Sylvie is unlike Lily and Nona when she enters the novel. In addition to her unusual way of dressing--wearing a gigantic, old coat over a much nicer dress, and not wearing gloves or boots in the extreme cold--Sylvie's attitude sets her apart from pretty much everyone else in Fingerbone. Not only does she disregard routines like taking care of the house or even eating regular meals, but she also seems to think very little about what is the best for the family. One example of this is when Ruth and Lucille skip school and see Sylvie walking out onto the bridge. It doesn't cross Sylvie's mind that she could fall from the bridge, and she doesn't think about the impact it would have on her nieces' lives if she did.

Sylvie's carefree, lenient attitude is what allows Ruth and Lucille to first be distinguished as individuals. Early in the book, Ruth and Lucille don't have much control over their situation and are forced to obey the rules set out by their grandmother and Lily and Nona. But when Sylvie becomes their guardian, they are put in a position where they can skip school if they want too, and Lucille especially isn't afraid to question Sylvie's authority. This change in their guardianship, along with their growing independence as adolescents, means that Ruth and Lucille have the liberty to express their differing beliefs more than they could before. While Ruth is often aligned with Sylvie's point of view and doesn't necessarily see Sylvie's quirkiness as a problem, Lucille's outgoing nature and desire to fit in with others in Fingerbone clashes with Sylvie's unorthodox personality. In this way, Sylvie's arrival in Housekeeping definitely sparks the distinction between Ruth and Lucille. It is hard to say whether or not Ruth and Lucille would end up going their separate ways if Sylvie hadn't come into their lives, but when she does, it is inevitable for them to continue acting as a single person.

Split Halfway

One of the most striking aspects of The Bell Jar for me is how quickly Esther's paranoid behavior escalates. As I read through Chapter 9 of the novel, I thought of Esther as a character troubled by her circumstances and others' misogynist views, not as someone who would repeatedly attempt suicide and never fully be a part of society again. But the transition from Chapter 9 to Chapter 10 is a significant change of tone. Esther not only emphasizes the ideas of death and depression more, but her behavior rapidly shifts from relatively normal (as a successful college student who hangs out with friends) to very isolated, unhealthy, and dangerous.

Part of what makes Esther's spiral into mental illness seem so fast is the language Plath uses at the beginning of Chapter 10. Esther says on page 113, "A summer calm laid its soothing hand over everything, like death," she feels she "had nothing to look forward to" on page 117, and she references the idea of not recognizing herself a few times throughout Chapter 10, including on page 120 when she decides she would create a disguise for herself named Elaine. Though Esther often has negative views on things in Chapters 1-9, much of her discomfort is related to her environment. While she criticizes Buddy Willard's behavior and describes the awkwardness of being wth Lenny and Doreen near the beginning of The Bell Jar, I think Chapter 10 marks a point in the novel when Esther directs her concerns, hatred, and discomfort more toward herself. Her escalation into serious mental illness comes from how she can no longer deal with problems she sees around her, and begins to see any criticism she has with others as a flaw with herself. The first nine chapters of the book act as a way to build up some of the qualms Esther has with her surroundings--from her first view of the rough sexuality between Doreen and Lenny, to the scene when Marco acts as a "woman-hater"--and the rest of the book is how Esther internalizes such issues.

An example of how Esther can no longer cope with problems later in the book is the fact that she stops bathing. In Chapter 2, Esther says, "There must be quite a few things a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them." She uses baths as a way to both physically and mentally cleanse herself of any disgusting, uncomfortable situation she has just been in. Yet several chapters later, Esther hasn't bathed in weeks, separated from what she saw as the universal way to contemplate problems and feel better. I think this is one reason why the second half of the book felt very disjointed from the first half to me, and possibly why many people in our class find it harder to relate to Esther by the end of the book than at the beginning: instead of simply seeing problems with things on a large scale (e.g., how American women were often treated in the 1950s), Esther feels that she is unusual for noticing such issues and abuses herself for them.

Power Struggles in The Bell Jar

During a class discussion about The Bell Jar the other day, we talked about what could be wrong with Esther Greenwood and why she feels negatively about a lot of things. I think much of what Esther dislikes about Buddy Willard is the idea that women don't have much power in marriage or medicine. Esther is bothered by Buddy's comment in Chapter 5 that Esther's poems are nothing but pieces of dust that won't matter in the long run. She gets the sense that Buddy doesn't care about what she has to say and that she won't be able to do what she loves--writing poetry--if they get married.

Another section of the novel that contributes to Esther's feelings that women have very little power or control over their lives is when she and Buddy witness a child birth. Mrs. Tomolillo, the woman having the baby, is very passive throughout the scene. She is put in the hands of a male medical student who has never delivered a baby before and fears he will drop the baby. Esther's description of this event associates doctors and medical students, who have never had babies themselves, with incompetence and apathy toward patients. On page 66, Plath writes:

"I thought it sounded just like the sort of drug a man would invent. Here was a woman in terrible pain, obviously feeling every bit of it or she wouldn't groan like that, and she would go straight home and start another baby, because the drug would make her forget how bad the pain had been, when all the time, in some secret part of her, that long, blind, doorless and windowless corridor of pain was waiting to open up and shut her in again."

Esther is uncomfortable with how the baby is delivered because the doctors seem to treat Mrs. Tomolillo in a way that limits her choices as a patient so that they don't have to more thoroughly interact with her. An interesting parallel to this scene is to Esther's other observations about men and sexuality. From both her own experiences and what she has seen occur with Doreen and Lenny, Esther is under the impression that women are entirely under the control of men. Toward the beginning of Chapter 2, Doreen says she wants Esther to stay with her at Lenny's apartment, alluding to the fact that Doreen would be pretty helpless if Lenny tried anything on her.

Similarly in Chapter 9, Esther's date with Marco bolsters her feeling that women are relatively powerless when interacting with men, and she is deeply bothered by that. She says Marco is an "invulnerable woman-hater," and the language she uses to describe the scene ("I didn't know where I was," and "the ground soared and struck me with a soft shock") add to the idea that Esther is powerless against Marco's manipulating physical strength.

These parts of The Bell Jar make me think that one of Esther's primary issues with others is that women lack control when it comes to both sex and child birth. She has witnessed numerous men who abuse and take advantage of women sexually, and her presence at the hospital during Mrs. Tomolillo's child birth rounds out the sense that women don't have much say in anything sex-/pregnancy-related. It will be interesting to see more examples of this in the upcoming chapters of the book and how Esther is affected by them; it already looks like these feelings have played a role in Esther's disgust with Buddy and their relationship, so there are a number of ways this theme could influence Esther's decisions later on in the novel.