In a collection of short stories in which each one is characterized by some absurd plot line or ridiculous string of advertisements, a seemingly ordinary, mundane story like "Christmas" from George Saunders' In Persuasion Nation surprisingly stands out. While the story itself is fairly straightforward, with a fairly basic plot and familiar setting when compared to other stories of the collection, and would most likely be taken for granted if placed in any other collection of stories, the fact that it is regarded with such normality immediately calls a sharp contrast to the rest of the stories of the collection, which could be described as anything but "normal". The story starts off with an unnamed narrator claiming that he is broke, living in his aunt's basement at twenty-six, and forced to rely on his uncle to provide him with a mediocre roofing job, which he is fittingly mediocre at. As we read on, our narrator settles into a more observatory/bystander role in the story, and the focus quickly shifts away from him to John, an older coworker of his. All throughout the story we see the other roofers heckle and ridicule John due to his lackluster roofing abilities and claims that he is some "master roofer" worthy of more than hauling tar. The narrator sits and watches as John, father of fourteen kids, easily gets cheated out of his money by one of their coworkers, attempting to intervene but ultimately unsuccessful. In the end, John goes home broke, but it is the narrator who is dejected due to his inability to help out a friend. While the plot of the Christmas party and John squandering away all his money is the framework for the story, through his reactions to the entire situation the narrator reflects on the story in a way that tells us a lot about he himself as a sympathetic, caring character.
It is true that the narrator doesn't completely neglect himself at the beginning of the story, as he takes time to mention his poor financial situation and struggle to find a job, but most of this doesn't appear as an attempt to garner any sympathy from the reader, but rather as a transition to speak about his coworkers and the way they constantly disparage John. The narrator acknowledges that his situation is his own fault and doesn't try to make up any excuses for it, stating that the reason he's losing his girlfriend is because of his "pathetically dwindling prospects" (89). Even when he gets the job as a result of a favor called in by his uncle, he is very truthful about his skill level, stating that "once everyone had seen me work, I became The Great White Dope" (89). Instead of seeking to impress the reader through false claims of excellence at his job and looking for reasons to blame his poverty and failure on, the narrator accepts his situation and goes on about his life, establishing him as a reliable and sensible character. John's reliability, on the other hand, is immediately called into question when the other roofers call him out on his claims of dexterity:
"You are so full of shit," said Rick. "If you were so fast then, why are you so shitty now?"
"You roof like my mother," said Terry, the owner's brother.
"Maybe your mother roofs good," John mumbled.
"She don't," said Terry. "But still she's faster than you" (90).
When John claims that he should be allowed to do the real roofing work, rather than just lug around tar all day, he is met with harsh discouragement from his coworkers, who say that he lies and is in actuality a terrible roofer, We can already observe the type of environment that the roofers work in, and the negativity directed towards John by several of the roofers in this environment. The narrator importantly doesn't join in on the jeering, and later we will see only steps in to help when alone with John, as he knows any attempts to aid John in the presence of Rick, the supervisor will simply get shut down.
A few weeks later is the Christmas party itself, which the narrator describes as characterized by a lot of gambling. While John heedlessly jumps into the gambling, the narrator steers clear of it all: "Finally, in terms of money, I got it: money forestalled disgrace. I though of my aunt, who workers three jobs and whom I had not yet paid a dime for food, thought of my girlfriend, who now paid whenever we went out, which was never, because my five shirts were too stained with tar" (94). The narrator shows his shame with his whole situation in these lines. He is twenty-six and living with his aunt for free, and he understands that this is incredibly altruistic of her and that he ought to at least make some kind of attempt to compensate her. We observe a similar feeling towards his girlfriend. These lines really show the type of character the narrator is. Even though he is essentially at rock bottom, he appreciates when people like his aunt and girlfriend help him out and understands how invaluable their help is at this point in his life. This is why the narrator, unlike John and so many of the other roofers, restrains from gambling; he knows how hard he has worked and how much people have helped him along the way, and is thankful enough to not risk losing all of his hard earned pay check, if only to someday repay those who have been so generous to him. We will see the extent of his generosity later during the Christmas party. When the gambling begins, Rick uses his history of belittling John to his advantage, forcing everyone else out of the game until it is just him and John, and then egging on John to lose all his money. When John finally loses all of his money: the narrator thinks: "A light went on in my head, and has stayed on ever since: It was all about capital. Rick could lose and lose and never really lose. Once John dipped below four hundred, he was dead. He was dead now" (95). The narrator understands how exploitative Rick, a man of higher status in that he is their supervisor, is being to someone like John. John, carrying the burden to support a whopping fourteen kids can't afford to be risking his money gambling, and the narrator understands that if John loses his money, which he does, all of it, "he was dead now." No one else seems to really care about Rick's exploitation of John, as the other roofers, such as Terry, are too occupied either egging Rick on or simply minding their business, guarding their own pay checks. Later, when John attempts to cash in his bonus check for more gambling money, the narrator attempts to stop him:
"You're doing right," I said. "Go on home."
"Ain't going home, John said, and numb-footed across Prairie Island again.
"No no no," I mumbled, vividly drunk, suddenly alive (96).
Here, the narrator recognizes John's attempt to cash in his bonus check, only to inevitably lose more money, and attempts to stop him. We can observe that the narrator genuinely cares for John, as he is the only one actively outside with him, trying to prevent him from burning his bonus paycheck along with the 400 dollars he already lost to Rick. Despite the narrator's best efforts though, John persists and eventually loses it all. Later, when the narrator has quit roofing and started anew, he reflects on what would've happened if he had lucked out and gotten a job as the Assistant Curator, hypothetically sitting at a restaurant with his aunt and girlfriend, and thinks about how pathetic he was that he couldn't even help out one man getting cheated out of his money: "After dinner, the three of us sit there, laughing, laughing at the fact that I, an Assistant Curator at the famous Field Museum, was once a joke of a roofer, a joke of a roofer so beat down he once stood by watching as a nice man got cheated out of his Christmas" (99).
Tuesday, May 17, 2016
Friday, May 6, 2016
Mrs. Sen and the Refusal to Adjust
Several of the stories that take place in America in Jhumpa Lahiri's "Interpreter of Maladies" feature main characters who experience a great deal of nostalgia for their homeland of India. Some characters spend their time constantly reminiscing about their life before immigration in India, while others express desire to return in a more reserved manner, such as Mr. Pirzada. The character with the worst case of homesickness in all of Lahiri's stories, however, is Mrs. Sen. Mrs. Sen follows the former of these two ways of expressing her nostalgia, in that not a moment passes without Mrs. Sen mentioning something about her earlier life or childhood in India. Her life is very different America, as she is no longer surrounded by this sense of community that we have come to admire in all of Lahiri's stories that take place in India, but is instead left cooped up and isolated in her apartment while her husband goes out to work. This drastic change of cultures away from something she has been used to her entire life is in itself enough to cause Mrs. Sen to spend an excessive amount of time rekindling fond memories, along with the fact that in her solitary apartment, the only type of social interaction she gets on a daily basis is after school when she babysits Eliot. Not just her thoughts, but her actions as well, particularly her attitudes towards driving and fish, exemplify this notion of Mrs. Sen's nostalgia and ultimately, the underlying refusal to adjust that exists in her subconscious.
We first observe Mrs. Sen's lingering connection to her past in India from the description of the apartment that we receive in the third-person point of view, from Eliot's perspective: "Yet it was his mother, Eliot had though, in her cuffed, beige shorts and her rope-soled shoes, who looked odd" (112-113). Immediately after his mother steps into the room, Eliot comments on how her appearance clashes with that of the rest of the room. This is confusing at first, because Eliot describes his mother as wearing fairly typical American clothing. From this, we can deduce that the reason for this contrast is because the apartment itself resembles and represents India and its culture, likely designed this way by none other than Mrs. Sen. We can already see the persisting ties that Mrs. Sen has with India from her desire to rearrange her belongings in an attempt to make them resemble India. Instead of adjusting and familiarizing herself with the new life that is ahead of her in America, she feels the need to stick to her roots and instead opts to continue living in her past, so much so that it makes Eliot's mother, dressed in a common American outfit, look like an outsider. This idea is further grounded in Mrs. Sen's subtleties and tendencies in her interactions with Eliot. The major habit that Mrs. Sen expresses which leads us to believe she still heavily misses India is the consistency and casualness with which she refers to India as her home. In response to Mrs. Sen's use of the word home, Eliot observes: "The mention of the word seemed to release something in her. She neatened the border of her sari where it rose diagonally across her chest. She, too, looked around the room, as if she noticed in the lampshades, in the teapot, in the shadows frozen on the carpet, something the rest of them could not" (113). It important to note here not just that she refers to India as her home, but also that she doesn't associate her apartment in America with the word "home" at all, giving us the sense that she feels out of place here in America, and therefore still considers her childhood origin of India as her current "home". She does this several times throughout the story and each time expresses the same kind of nonchalance that any other person would use to refer to their home. The difference is that in actuality Mrs. Sen is using the word "home" not to refer to her current and future in America, but instead to the ever-present image of India that she still holds so dearly. Therefore, a normally taken-for-granted habit is alarming in Mrs. Sen's case, as the fact that she uses the term incorrectly in a technical sense shows her inability and lack of desire to adjust in a more emotional, psychological sense.
In conjunction with Mrs. Sen's constant thoughts and absentminded habits of reminiscing and referencing her previous home of India, there are the actions and wants of Mrs. Sen. The best examples of this are what the narrator describes, through Eliot's perspective, as the two things that make Mrs. Sen happy. The first of these is receiving a letter from her family back in India. Lahiri describes the process by which Mrs. Sen does this: "It was her custom to check the mailbox after driving practice. She would unlock the box, but she would ask Eliot to reach inside, telling him what to look for, and then she would shit her eyes and shield them with her hands while he shuffled through the bills and magazines that came in Mrs. Sen's name" (121). Mrs. Sen obviously heavily enjoys conversing with her family back in India through writing letters, as can be observed by the fervor with which she checks the mailbox after every single driving practice. Once she actually gets to the mailbox and unlocks it, instead of simply grabbing what's inside and looking through to see if a letter is there or not, she makes a small game out of it. She covers her eyes like that of a child when playing peek-a-boo and tells Eliot to search through the mail. The determination to check the mailbox everyday, along with her joviality before even seeing if a letter has arrives or not, both reinforce the idea that she is still very much attached to India, as besides this (and fish), not much else brings Mrs. Sen joy. In addition to a letter from her relatives, Lahiri states that the other thing that bring Mrs. Sen joy is fish from the seaside, which seems fairly inconspicuous at first, until we discover the reason why she loves fish so much: "She added that in Calcutta people are fish first thing in the morning, last thing before bed, as a snack after school if they were lucky. They ate the tail, the eggs, even the head" (123-124). Again, we see Mrs. Sen's desire to reconnect with her past, this time through a favorite food of fish. This in itself seems acceptable, but later we see just how attached Mrs. Sen still is to her fresh fish eating rituals in India when she refuses to buy fish from the supermarket, claiming that she doesn't like a single fish there. Finally, Mrs. Sen's refusal to adjust to America culminates with her learning to drive throughout the course of the story. Lahiri narrates that Mrs. Sen is really very awful at driving and she certainly doesn't enjoy it, always more apprehensive than eager to practice. At one point she drops her head on the wheel in defeat, claiming that she hates driving. It's as if Mrs. Sen's lack of motivation to learn how to drive stems from the hope, and maybe even belief, that her and her husband's stay in America is temporary, and therefore there is no real use in learning how to drive. Her refusal to learn how to drive serves as a perfect analogy to her refusal to adjust to America as a whole. Whether she does it on purpose or not, her lack of desire and enthusiasm to adjust to driving, and overall America, show her ever lasting attachment to India and lasting desire to return.
We first observe Mrs. Sen's lingering connection to her past in India from the description of the apartment that we receive in the third-person point of view, from Eliot's perspective: "Yet it was his mother, Eliot had though, in her cuffed, beige shorts and her rope-soled shoes, who looked odd" (112-113). Immediately after his mother steps into the room, Eliot comments on how her appearance clashes with that of the rest of the room. This is confusing at first, because Eliot describes his mother as wearing fairly typical American clothing. From this, we can deduce that the reason for this contrast is because the apartment itself resembles and represents India and its culture, likely designed this way by none other than Mrs. Sen. We can already see the persisting ties that Mrs. Sen has with India from her desire to rearrange her belongings in an attempt to make them resemble India. Instead of adjusting and familiarizing herself with the new life that is ahead of her in America, she feels the need to stick to her roots and instead opts to continue living in her past, so much so that it makes Eliot's mother, dressed in a common American outfit, look like an outsider. This idea is further grounded in Mrs. Sen's subtleties and tendencies in her interactions with Eliot. The major habit that Mrs. Sen expresses which leads us to believe she still heavily misses India is the consistency and casualness with which she refers to India as her home. In response to Mrs. Sen's use of the word home, Eliot observes: "The mention of the word seemed to release something in her. She neatened the border of her sari where it rose diagonally across her chest. She, too, looked around the room, as if she noticed in the lampshades, in the teapot, in the shadows frozen on the carpet, something the rest of them could not" (113). It important to note here not just that she refers to India as her home, but also that she doesn't associate her apartment in America with the word "home" at all, giving us the sense that she feels out of place here in America, and therefore still considers her childhood origin of India as her current "home". She does this several times throughout the story and each time expresses the same kind of nonchalance that any other person would use to refer to their home. The difference is that in actuality Mrs. Sen is using the word "home" not to refer to her current and future in America, but instead to the ever-present image of India that she still holds so dearly. Therefore, a normally taken-for-granted habit is alarming in Mrs. Sen's case, as the fact that she uses the term incorrectly in a technical sense shows her inability and lack of desire to adjust in a more emotional, psychological sense.
In conjunction with Mrs. Sen's constant thoughts and absentminded habits of reminiscing and referencing her previous home of India, there are the actions and wants of Mrs. Sen. The best examples of this are what the narrator describes, through Eliot's perspective, as the two things that make Mrs. Sen happy. The first of these is receiving a letter from her family back in India. Lahiri describes the process by which Mrs. Sen does this: "It was her custom to check the mailbox after driving practice. She would unlock the box, but she would ask Eliot to reach inside, telling him what to look for, and then she would shit her eyes and shield them with her hands while he shuffled through the bills and magazines that came in Mrs. Sen's name" (121). Mrs. Sen obviously heavily enjoys conversing with her family back in India through writing letters, as can be observed by the fervor with which she checks the mailbox after every single driving practice. Once she actually gets to the mailbox and unlocks it, instead of simply grabbing what's inside and looking through to see if a letter is there or not, she makes a small game out of it. She covers her eyes like that of a child when playing peek-a-boo and tells Eliot to search through the mail. The determination to check the mailbox everyday, along with her joviality before even seeing if a letter has arrives or not, both reinforce the idea that she is still very much attached to India, as besides this (and fish), not much else brings Mrs. Sen joy. In addition to a letter from her relatives, Lahiri states that the other thing that bring Mrs. Sen joy is fish from the seaside, which seems fairly inconspicuous at first, until we discover the reason why she loves fish so much: "She added that in Calcutta people are fish first thing in the morning, last thing before bed, as a snack after school if they were lucky. They ate the tail, the eggs, even the head" (123-124). Again, we see Mrs. Sen's desire to reconnect with her past, this time through a favorite food of fish. This in itself seems acceptable, but later we see just how attached Mrs. Sen still is to her fresh fish eating rituals in India when she refuses to buy fish from the supermarket, claiming that she doesn't like a single fish there. Finally, Mrs. Sen's refusal to adjust to America culminates with her learning to drive throughout the course of the story. Lahiri narrates that Mrs. Sen is really very awful at driving and she certainly doesn't enjoy it, always more apprehensive than eager to practice. At one point she drops her head on the wheel in defeat, claiming that she hates driving. It's as if Mrs. Sen's lack of motivation to learn how to drive stems from the hope, and maybe even belief, that her and her husband's stay in America is temporary, and therefore there is no real use in learning how to drive. Her refusal to learn how to drive serves as a perfect analogy to her refusal to adjust to America as a whole. Whether she does it on purpose or not, her lack of desire and enthusiasm to adjust to driving, and overall America, show her ever lasting attachment to India and lasting desire to return.
Thursday, April 21, 2016
Yunior's Insecurities Regarding His Image
Narrative style plays a huge role in the story "How to Date a Browngirl, Blackgirl, Whitegirl, or Halfie" from Junot Diaz's Drown. The distinguishing feature that makes this story so different from the others in the collection is that it is written in the second person, constantly using the imperative mood throughout. Our narrator is once again Yunior, and the story progresses as he discloses to the reader his step-by-step process on what to do when on a date with a girl, based off 2 main things: her race and her location. Yunior proceeds to explain to the reader the different scenarios that might occur with each permutation of race and location, starting when his family leaves all the way to later in the night, when the girl finally leaves, and tells the reader, using imperative, and how to handle each of them to ensure the optimal outcome of the date. Yunior is very methodical and critical about this process, but his vast knowledge doesn't appear to be very natural in the story. Instead it appears rehearsed, almost as if Yunior had sat down and memorized what to do in each and every situation so that when the time came for another date, he would be fully prepared and not have to worry over a lapse of mind. Ironically, it is this vast knowledge of dating that results in the notion that Yunior is actually overall insecure about himself while dating. While Yunior appears to put on this facade of confidence while dating, his obsessive habit of planning out what to do in every situation, depending on a girl's race and location, show that Yunior is above else worried about his image and that he will mess up. By memorizing all these different scenarios and through the use of second person, Yunior is able to minimize mistakes and hide these worries while dating, which only proves to accentuate his insecurities overall.
We can observe Yunior's insecurities about his image by observing his obsessive and perfectionist behavior on the very first page of the story. Yunior waits to have girls over until his entire family is gone and he has the house to himself, already establishing that he feels too insecure and embarrassed to have the girls he brings over meet his family. Quickly after his mom leaves, Yunior rushes to rearrange the house: "Clear the government cheese from the refrigerator. If the girl's from the Terrace stack the boxes behind the milk. If she's from the Park or Society Hill hide the cheese in the cabinet above the oven, way up where she'll never see" (143). Yunior has a unique scenario on what to do with the cheese in his refrigerator depending on where the girl is from. Already we see Yunior putting to use his expertise on women based on location, as he knows exactly where to move the cheese depending on where the girl is from. The fact that Yunior is bothering with moving something as trivial as cheese from the refrigerator in the first place, even if it is from the government, in itself shows how obsessive he is about protecting his image. He thinks that a girl seeing that he is living on welfare must be prevented at all costs, as it could soil his reputation early into the date, even if that means moving the government cheese out of sight of the refrigerator. The fact that he memorized exactly where to move it based on the girl's location simply shows the extent to which Yunior will go to preserve his image. A similar notion of Yunior's obsession for perfection appears when he is waiting for his date to arrive: "The directions were in your best handwriting, so her parents won't think you're an idiot. Get up from the couch and check the parking lot [...] Wait and after an hour go out to your corner" (144). Yunior again is primarily concerned about his image to the parents at the beginning of this scene, as he is depicted writing as best as he can to impress them. When his date doesn't show up on time he checks several times and is clearly concerned, but when she finally shows up later in that scene, he quickly tries to put up facade of coolness by unsuccessfully running his hand through his hair.
Interestingly, even though the story is written in the second person, and it appears that Yunior is simply throwing the reader into a date and providing he or she with several different scenarios, it almost has the opposite effect of making Yunior himself look even more insecure. We can draw an important connection here between this story and several stories of Lorrie Moore's characteristic second person narration style. The difference with this story is that the word "you" seems to appear a lot less than it does in any Lorrie Moore story. Instead, it is replaced with a multitude of imperatives that on the surface are simply telling the reader what he or she is doing in the story. At first, this simply seems like a nuanced form of the second person writing style, but upon further inspection we can observe that this is not the case. The specific imperatives that Yunior uses include short, two-word phrases such as "be prepared," "stay alert," and "don't panic". While these imperatives do appear in a second person context, several of them take the form of reassuring phrases. The lack of prevalence of the word "you" and instead increased frequency of these short imperative commands give a feeling that the reason Yunior doesn't use "you" as much as Moore is because a lot of the advice he is offering through these imperative commands he is actually speaking to himself. It's as if Yunior is giving himself a pep-talk to reassure himself to "be prepared" and "don't panic" during different times of the date. We already observed how obsessive Yunior is when it comes to memorizing and playing out all the different scenarios depending on the race of a girl or her location, and keeping in mind something like this it isn't unreasonable to assume that Yunior isn't just speaking his directions and advice to the reader, but also to himself. This notion that Yunior uses the second person and knowledge of every scenario to cover up his insecurities culminates well with what he narrates with the whitegirl where we finally see the full extent of Yunior's insecurities about his image: "Tell her that you love her hair, that you love her skin, her lips, because, in truth, you love them more than you love your own" (147).
We can observe Yunior's insecurities about his image by observing his obsessive and perfectionist behavior on the very first page of the story. Yunior waits to have girls over until his entire family is gone and he has the house to himself, already establishing that he feels too insecure and embarrassed to have the girls he brings over meet his family. Quickly after his mom leaves, Yunior rushes to rearrange the house: "Clear the government cheese from the refrigerator. If the girl's from the Terrace stack the boxes behind the milk. If she's from the Park or Society Hill hide the cheese in the cabinet above the oven, way up where she'll never see" (143). Yunior has a unique scenario on what to do with the cheese in his refrigerator depending on where the girl is from. Already we see Yunior putting to use his expertise on women based on location, as he knows exactly where to move the cheese depending on where the girl is from. The fact that Yunior is bothering with moving something as trivial as cheese from the refrigerator in the first place, even if it is from the government, in itself shows how obsessive he is about protecting his image. He thinks that a girl seeing that he is living on welfare must be prevented at all costs, as it could soil his reputation early into the date, even if that means moving the government cheese out of sight of the refrigerator. The fact that he memorized exactly where to move it based on the girl's location simply shows the extent to which Yunior will go to preserve his image. A similar notion of Yunior's obsession for perfection appears when he is waiting for his date to arrive: "The directions were in your best handwriting, so her parents won't think you're an idiot. Get up from the couch and check the parking lot [...] Wait and after an hour go out to your corner" (144). Yunior again is primarily concerned about his image to the parents at the beginning of this scene, as he is depicted writing as best as he can to impress them. When his date doesn't show up on time he checks several times and is clearly concerned, but when she finally shows up later in that scene, he quickly tries to put up facade of coolness by unsuccessfully running his hand through his hair.
Interestingly, even though the story is written in the second person, and it appears that Yunior is simply throwing the reader into a date and providing he or she with several different scenarios, it almost has the opposite effect of making Yunior himself look even more insecure. We can draw an important connection here between this story and several stories of Lorrie Moore's characteristic second person narration style. The difference with this story is that the word "you" seems to appear a lot less than it does in any Lorrie Moore story. Instead, it is replaced with a multitude of imperatives that on the surface are simply telling the reader what he or she is doing in the story. At first, this simply seems like a nuanced form of the second person writing style, but upon further inspection we can observe that this is not the case. The specific imperatives that Yunior uses include short, two-word phrases such as "be prepared," "stay alert," and "don't panic". While these imperatives do appear in a second person context, several of them take the form of reassuring phrases. The lack of prevalence of the word "you" and instead increased frequency of these short imperative commands give a feeling that the reason Yunior doesn't use "you" as much as Moore is because a lot of the advice he is offering through these imperative commands he is actually speaking to himself. It's as if Yunior is giving himself a pep-talk to reassure himself to "be prepared" and "don't panic" during different times of the date. We already observed how obsessive Yunior is when it comes to memorizing and playing out all the different scenarios depending on the race of a girl or her location, and keeping in mind something like this it isn't unreasonable to assume that Yunior isn't just speaking his directions and advice to the reader, but also to himself. This notion that Yunior uses the second person and knowledge of every scenario to cover up his insecurities culminates well with what he narrates with the whitegirl where we finally see the full extent of Yunior's insecurities about his image: "Tell her that you love her hair, that you love her skin, her lips, because, in truth, you love them more than you love your own" (147).
Friday, April 1, 2016
Trudy's Paranoia
In the story "Amahl and the Night Visitors: A Guide to the Tenor of Love" from Lorrie Moore's Self Help, we are prompted to decide for ourselves whether or not Moss, the boyfriend of the main character in the story, Trudy, is cheating on his girlfriend. Trudy has suspicions that Moss is lying about staying out and coming home late due to his constant rehearsals, but that instead he is having an affair with another woman. As the story progresses and more and more evidence is uncovered that points towards the notion that Moss is in fact having an affair with another woman, Trudy gets more and more paranoid and obsessive about the situation as a whole. This creates an unhealthy cycle in which Trudy's suspicions initially cause no drastic changes in the relationship, but simply badger and wear Moss out over time, as he slowly grows annoyed with Trudy's behavior. One possible angle in looking at it is that Moss simply stays out late not to have an affair, but to avoid his constantly paranoid girlfriend who won't even let the cat out of the house, which in turn causes Trudy to grow even more paranoid as Moss is out more and for longer time periods. This entire dynamic and lack of communication between the two characters results in a deteriorating relationship which neither of them address or attempt to improve. In reality, whether Moss is cheating on Trudy or not doesn't matter in itself, but instead it is the obsessively paranoid behavior of Trudy that acts as the catalyst for this gradual deterioration and eventual end of the relationship.
Starting from the second of Trudy's "diary entries" in the story, Trudy already expresses her beliefs that Moss may be cheating on her. She is met with a slightly sarcastic response and ends the entry right there, but her suspicion is still present and has grown since that night, as we can see in the scene where Moss and Trudy invite the principals to dinner the before the rehearsal. Sonia asks about the strange noise that the cat is making by rolling around a marble in the bathtub, and Moss replies: "It's the beast," says Moss. "We should put her outside, Trudy. He pours Sonia more wine, and she murmurs, "Thanks" (103). By making this comment, Moss essentially aligns himself with Sonia in this scene, and more importantly detaches himself from Trudy. He knows that Trudy absolutely adores the cat, and by ruthlessly calling it a "beast", he is calling Trudy out on something she refuses to do: take the cat outside. Normally this wouldn't be too big a deal, as Moss complains about the cat often, but what's important to observe is how he follows up his comment. Moss follows his comment by simply pouring Sonia more wine, but what's important is Trudy's reaction to this, when she immediately jumps up to go and get the marble from the cat. Trudy is so paranoid from Moss' previous comment when he connected with Sonia that she feels threatened by this simple act of pouring wine. It's as though she is made so uncomfortable by the thought of Moss cheating on her with Sonia that she feels the need to physically jump up out of her chair, using the excuse of the marble as a way to excuse and recompose herself.
This whole scene gains a lot more meaning when Trudy questions Moss about whether or not he is seeing Sonia later in the book. The fact that even eleven days after the dinner, Trudy believes Moss is involved with Sonia shows how paranoid she is, as she is connecting this entire theory to Sonia almost solely based on the simple interactions that occurred between her and Moss at the dinner. Moss is evidently annoyed by this though: "Stop," says Moss. "You're being my wife. Things are repeating themselves. [...] "Trudy You've got to stop this. [...] "I'm going out to get a hamburger. Do you want anything?" (108). Moss is tired of the paranoid Trudy's constant fretting that he is cheating on him, and repeatedly tells her to stop doing what she's doing; he's getting fed up with her. After hearing Trudy say the same things again, Moss states that he is leaving to go get a hamburger twice. Here Trudy's apprehensions about the relationship are actually driving Moss away, as he simply feels annoyed by her and thus feels the need to go and get a hamburger to get away from her. The fact that he must say it twice only reinforces this notion and exacerbates the fact that Trudy's obsession is tearing the relationship apart.
Trudy's paranoia, in particular her lack of knowledge of her own obsessive nature, culminates with the final scene outside of Sammy's bar. Trudy sees Moss walking with Bob out of the bar and states: "Well, Moss. Here all along I thought it was Sonia, and it's really Bob" (110). This shows the extent to which Trudy will take her obsession over the relationship. Even if she is slightly joking in this scene, the fact that she would even go to the point of making a statement like that depicts the desire she has to know anything and everything that's going on with Moss. For Moss, however, this is the last straw, as he tells Trudy to "Fuck off" and charges towards the exit. Trudy desperately runs after him not even knowing what she was doing wrong, showing just how oblivious she is to her behavior and absolute disregard of personal space/time in the relationship. Whether or not Moss is having a separate affair or not, he draws the line as this scene, yelling at Trudy that the reason he is so angry is that she "just won't let people be" (111). Moss essentially sums up the situation with this sentence, implying that the reason he has been away from her so often is that he simply can't handle her constant nagging anymore. Ever obsessive, Trudy makes one last desperate attempt to restore the relationship, which ends up simply angering Moss even more as she's essentially doing the exact things Moss told her he hated. Moss leaves, once again stating that he's going to get a hamburger, effectively showing that Trudy's paranoia and obsessive nature about the relationship and Moss in general plays a major role in the separation of the characters.
Starting from the second of Trudy's "diary entries" in the story, Trudy already expresses her beliefs that Moss may be cheating on her. She is met with a slightly sarcastic response and ends the entry right there, but her suspicion is still present and has grown since that night, as we can see in the scene where Moss and Trudy invite the principals to dinner the before the rehearsal. Sonia asks about the strange noise that the cat is making by rolling around a marble in the bathtub, and Moss replies: "It's the beast," says Moss. "We should put her outside, Trudy. He pours Sonia more wine, and she murmurs, "Thanks" (103). By making this comment, Moss essentially aligns himself with Sonia in this scene, and more importantly detaches himself from Trudy. He knows that Trudy absolutely adores the cat, and by ruthlessly calling it a "beast", he is calling Trudy out on something she refuses to do: take the cat outside. Normally this wouldn't be too big a deal, as Moss complains about the cat often, but what's important to observe is how he follows up his comment. Moss follows his comment by simply pouring Sonia more wine, but what's important is Trudy's reaction to this, when she immediately jumps up to go and get the marble from the cat. Trudy is so paranoid from Moss' previous comment when he connected with Sonia that she feels threatened by this simple act of pouring wine. It's as though she is made so uncomfortable by the thought of Moss cheating on her with Sonia that she feels the need to physically jump up out of her chair, using the excuse of the marble as a way to excuse and recompose herself.
This whole scene gains a lot more meaning when Trudy questions Moss about whether or not he is seeing Sonia later in the book. The fact that even eleven days after the dinner, Trudy believes Moss is involved with Sonia shows how paranoid she is, as she is connecting this entire theory to Sonia almost solely based on the simple interactions that occurred between her and Moss at the dinner. Moss is evidently annoyed by this though: "Stop," says Moss. "You're being my wife. Things are repeating themselves. [...] "Trudy You've got to stop this. [...] "I'm going out to get a hamburger. Do you want anything?" (108). Moss is tired of the paranoid Trudy's constant fretting that he is cheating on him, and repeatedly tells her to stop doing what she's doing; he's getting fed up with her. After hearing Trudy say the same things again, Moss states that he is leaving to go get a hamburger twice. Here Trudy's apprehensions about the relationship are actually driving Moss away, as he simply feels annoyed by her and thus feels the need to go and get a hamburger to get away from her. The fact that he must say it twice only reinforces this notion and exacerbates the fact that Trudy's obsession is tearing the relationship apart.
Trudy's paranoia, in particular her lack of knowledge of her own obsessive nature, culminates with the final scene outside of Sammy's bar. Trudy sees Moss walking with Bob out of the bar and states: "Well, Moss. Here all along I thought it was Sonia, and it's really Bob" (110). This shows the extent to which Trudy will take her obsession over the relationship. Even if she is slightly joking in this scene, the fact that she would even go to the point of making a statement like that depicts the desire she has to know anything and everything that's going on with Moss. For Moss, however, this is the last straw, as he tells Trudy to "Fuck off" and charges towards the exit. Trudy desperately runs after him not even knowing what she was doing wrong, showing just how oblivious she is to her behavior and absolute disregard of personal space/time in the relationship. Whether or not Moss is having a separate affair or not, he draws the line as this scene, yelling at Trudy that the reason he is so angry is that she "just won't let people be" (111). Moss essentially sums up the situation with this sentence, implying that the reason he has been away from her so often is that he simply can't handle her constant nagging anymore. Ever obsessive, Trudy makes one last desperate attempt to restore the relationship, which ends up simply angering Moss even more as she's essentially doing the exact things Moss told her he hated. Moss leaves, once again stating that he's going to get a hamburger, effectively showing that Trudy's paranoia and obsessive nature about the relationship and Moss in general plays a major role in the separation of the characters.
Friday, March 11, 2016
A Difference in Paternal Relationships
A key aspect of the "The Rockpile," the first short story of Baldwin's Going to Meet the Man, lies in the drastic difference in respect and sympathy with which the boys' father, Gabriel, treats each of his sons. Early on in the story we learn that the boys, John and Roy, are strictly prohibited from playing on the neighborhood phenomenon known as "the rockpile." Instead of going out and playing and enjoying themselves with the other kids who play on the rockpile everyday, John and Roy are confined to watch from their house's fire escape. While this doesn't seem to bother John, as he doesn't find the idea of playing with the other boys on the rockpile particularly appealing, the fact that it is so prohibited that they must watch it from their fire escape above only fuels Roy's desire to ignore his mother's admonitions and play on the rockpile. However, when Roy finally does sneak out to the rockpile and gets injured shortly thereafter, leading to the entire family fearing Roy's confrontation with his father, Gabriel ends up being merciful towards him. Though Roy's own heedless, rebellious nature is what get him in trouble in the first place, Gabriel consoles him and instead turns to harshly reprimand and threaten John, the bystander during the entire incident.
Almost immediately as we enter this story, the rockpile is described as this almost mythical, legendary natural phenomenon that has graced the young boys of the neighborhood. It is for this reason that Roy expresses such a strong wish to play there with the other boys; he "felt it to be his right, not to say his duty, to play there" (15). It's bad enough that the boys are prohibited from playing on the rockpile, which in itself is enough to strengthen Roy's resolve to one day actually reach it and play on it, but what's worse is that to cope with this, the boys sit up on the fire escape every Saturday morning to observe the ongoing actions in the "forbidden street below" (15). It's almost as if Roy believes that if he can't have the pleasure of physically engaging in action on the rockpile, he can at least have the next best thing and observe the other kids play on it, when in reality, it only increases his desire to play on the rockpile. However, though the rockpile has such as strong, magnetic effect on Roy, John seems for the most part unphased by it. He sits and observes the rockpile with his brother, but instead of sitting idly, constantly desiring to play on the rockpile, John engages in other distracting activities such as reading and doing his homework. We can observe this difference in temperament in the boys' disparate reactions to their mother routinely warning them to stay away from the rockpile: "Roy shifted impatiently, and continued to stare at the street, as though in this gazing he might somehow acquire wings. John said nothing. He had not really been spoken to: he was afraid of the rockpile and of the boys who played there" (15). When his mother tells him to not go and play on the rockpile, Roy reacts by physically squirming to try and suppress his constant longing to go against his mother. Even though Roy knows that his mother is really only speaking to him, Roy tries to push this out of his mind and ignore his mothers thoughts by once again shifting his attention to the rockpile. The fact that he goes as far as to wish that he would "acquire wings" to reach the rockpile expresses this extreme desire, and in turn highlights his overly rebellious nature, ignorant of this mother's concerns. John, on the other hand, expresses no such desire.
It's clear that the boys' father, Gabriel, has complete control over the household and rules it with an iron fist. When describing how the boys sit on the fire escape to watch the rockpile, Baldwin narrates: "But until he came to end their freedom, they sat, watching and longing above the street" (16). The "he" here obviously refers to Gabriel. The phrase "end their freedom" to describe the return of the father is very revealing about the power dynamics in the house. It's as if the boys can have their fun and "freedom" while their father is gone, but once he returns, that sense is gone, implying that Gabriel is very strict and doesn't tolerate misbehavior. Ironically, the confinement and longing that Roy feels sitting on the fire escape quickly turns into a privilege when the father comes home, accentuating this notion that once the father comes home, he rules, and everyone must obey him. This is why the entire family, not just Roy who misbehaved, begins to dread the arrival of Gabriel. Despite the persistent suggestions by the rest of the family that Roy was the one who broke the rules and John told him that he would get in trouble, Gabriel appears fairly placid when confronting Roy about what happened: "You don't want to cry. You's Daddy's little man. Tell your Daddy what happened" (22). Gabriel, the domineering father that the whole household dreads the arrival of, surprisingly shows kindness towards Roy in this scene. He calls him his "little man" and simply inquires about what happened, rather than reprimanding or abusing his son. Gabriel expresses his true anger towards his stepson John. Even though John did in fact warn Roy to not play on the rockpile, and reminded him of the consequences if he got caught, Gabriel disregards this and turns furious, saying things like "Boy, you hear me? You want me to take a strap to you?" (24). All of this anger and dominance towards John culminates with the final scene of the story, when Gabriel gets up to pick up the lunchbox, "bending his dark head near the toe of his father's heavy shoe" (25).
Almost immediately as we enter this story, the rockpile is described as this almost mythical, legendary natural phenomenon that has graced the young boys of the neighborhood. It is for this reason that Roy expresses such a strong wish to play there with the other boys; he "felt it to be his right, not to say his duty, to play there" (15). It's bad enough that the boys are prohibited from playing on the rockpile, which in itself is enough to strengthen Roy's resolve to one day actually reach it and play on it, but what's worse is that to cope with this, the boys sit up on the fire escape every Saturday morning to observe the ongoing actions in the "forbidden street below" (15). It's almost as if Roy believes that if he can't have the pleasure of physically engaging in action on the rockpile, he can at least have the next best thing and observe the other kids play on it, when in reality, it only increases his desire to play on the rockpile. However, though the rockpile has such as strong, magnetic effect on Roy, John seems for the most part unphased by it. He sits and observes the rockpile with his brother, but instead of sitting idly, constantly desiring to play on the rockpile, John engages in other distracting activities such as reading and doing his homework. We can observe this difference in temperament in the boys' disparate reactions to their mother routinely warning them to stay away from the rockpile: "Roy shifted impatiently, and continued to stare at the street, as though in this gazing he might somehow acquire wings. John said nothing. He had not really been spoken to: he was afraid of the rockpile and of the boys who played there" (15). When his mother tells him to not go and play on the rockpile, Roy reacts by physically squirming to try and suppress his constant longing to go against his mother. Even though Roy knows that his mother is really only speaking to him, Roy tries to push this out of his mind and ignore his mothers thoughts by once again shifting his attention to the rockpile. The fact that he goes as far as to wish that he would "acquire wings" to reach the rockpile expresses this extreme desire, and in turn highlights his overly rebellious nature, ignorant of this mother's concerns. John, on the other hand, expresses no such desire.
It's clear that the boys' father, Gabriel, has complete control over the household and rules it with an iron fist. When describing how the boys sit on the fire escape to watch the rockpile, Baldwin narrates: "But until he came to end their freedom, they sat, watching and longing above the street" (16). The "he" here obviously refers to Gabriel. The phrase "end their freedom" to describe the return of the father is very revealing about the power dynamics in the house. It's as if the boys can have their fun and "freedom" while their father is gone, but once he returns, that sense is gone, implying that Gabriel is very strict and doesn't tolerate misbehavior. Ironically, the confinement and longing that Roy feels sitting on the fire escape quickly turns into a privilege when the father comes home, accentuating this notion that once the father comes home, he rules, and everyone must obey him. This is why the entire family, not just Roy who misbehaved, begins to dread the arrival of Gabriel. Despite the persistent suggestions by the rest of the family that Roy was the one who broke the rules and John told him that he would get in trouble, Gabriel appears fairly placid when confronting Roy about what happened: "You don't want to cry. You's Daddy's little man. Tell your Daddy what happened" (22). Gabriel, the domineering father that the whole household dreads the arrival of, surprisingly shows kindness towards Roy in this scene. He calls him his "little man" and simply inquires about what happened, rather than reprimanding or abusing his son. Gabriel expresses his true anger towards his stepson John. Even though John did in fact warn Roy to not play on the rockpile, and reminded him of the consequences if he got caught, Gabriel disregards this and turns furious, saying things like "Boy, you hear me? You want me to take a strap to you?" (24). All of this anger and dominance towards John culminates with the final scene of the story, when Gabriel gets up to pick up the lunchbox, "bending his dark head near the toe of his father's heavy shoe" (25).
Sunday, February 28, 2016
Secrets, Lies, and Guilt
At the start of the story "Pretty Mouth and Green My Eyes," from J.D. Salinger's Nine Stories, we are thrown into a phone conversation between two coworkers: Lee and Arthur. A worried Arthur is calling Lee to inquire if Lee has recently seen his wife Joanie, as she has apparently left without notifying Arthur about her destination. We learn that while this phone call is occurring, there is a girl sitting in Lee's room intently observing Lee as speaks to Arthur over the phone. At first, the dynamic of the conversation simply appears to be one of a supportive friend, Lee, consoling his concerned coworker Arthur, assuring him that he has nothing to worry about and saying that wherever Joanie is, she will surely return to him soon. As we continue to follow the conversation, however, we get more and more clues that point to the fact that the woman inside Lee's room is actually Joanie, and that everything Lee is saying is not a genuine attempt to aid his friend, but simply a form a deception to get himself out of and future trouble. This notion becomes particularly unsettling when we consider Arthur's attitude in the conversation. Several times he states that he doesn't want to burden Lee with his problems or keep Lee up. Assuming the girl in Lee's room is indeed Joanie, Lee is the one entirely in the wrong here, but it is Arthur who feels like he is bothering his friend. Just as it seems like we have figured it all out, that Joanie is the one in the room, Arthur makes a puzzling second phone call to Lee, telling him that Joanie has returned home and that everything is under control. Through Lee's subtle interactions with the girl during his phone call with Arthur, we can deduce that the girl in his room is actually Joanie, and conclude that Arthur lied to Lee about Joanie's return, because he felt guilty for pitting his troubles and sorrow on his friend.
Right after picking up the phone, and several times throughout the rest of the first phone conversation, Lee's actions are very suspicious, indicating that there is more going on under the surface of this phone conversation. The main way in which Lee expresses this are through his numerous subtle glances towards the girl in his room. After he hears a mere one sentence from Arthur over the phone, Lee "glance[s] briefly left, at the girl" (116). Immediately after hearing his voice, Lee knows that it is Arthur at the other end of the line and looks at the girl. The fact that after hearing Arthur's voice, before even hearing his predicament, Lee's first instinct is to look at the girl indicates that there is a good chance the girl is Joanie. Upon realizing that it is Arthur on the other end of the line, Lee understands the situation realizes how much trouble he is in, and guiltily glances at Joanie as a result of this. This is the only plausible explanation that would prompt such a response from Lee. While we might forgive Lee and pass this off as a coincidence if it only happened once, it is the fact that Lee constantly makes these guilty glances towards the girl that further support the motion that his friend's wife is currently in his room. The second time Lee looks at the girl, he tries to be more covert about it, looking "left again, but high this time, away from the girl, who was now watching him..." (116). In the time span of what has to be only a few seconds, Lee looks at the girl twice. The second time, however, Lee doesn't look directly at Joanie, but looks above her, while still turning in her direction, making it appear as though he doesn't want Joanie to realize that he's looking at her. When Lee looks at the girl for the fourth time, he tries to appear as inconspicuous as possible: "The gray-haired man turned his head again toward the girl, perhaps to show her how forbearing, even stoic, his countenance was. But the girl missed seeing it" (122). This time, when Lee looks at Joanie, he tries to dupe her into thinking that nothing is wrong, by putting on a blank, unemotional face. He knows that if he appears worried, Joanie will realize what's going on and tries hard to prevent this through his stoic facial expression. Lee's constant glances heavily imply that the girl in his room is indeed Joanie.
So, if the girl with Lee is Joanie, why does Arthur call Lee for the second time, this time claiming that Joanie has just returned home and thanking Lee for his help? At first, when Arthur makes this call to Lee, the very belief that the girl is Joanie is once again thrown into question, but further analysis reveals that the notion still stands, and that it is Arthur who has lied to his friend in an attempt to relieve the perceived burden he has placed on Lee's shoulders, while cleansing his own guilt that he feels. Arthur speaks: "Yeah. She just barged in. [...] I just thought I'd give you a ring while she's in the john" (128) Arthur's tone of voice appears drastically different from the previous conversation. This would be understandable if Joanie had actually come home and Arthur's tone turned more relived and relaxed, but instead, Arthur speaks very casually, using language such as "give you a ring," and "in the john." Arthur's tone is so casual that his words almost seem forced during this scene, as if he is trying as hard as he cant to get Lee to believe his lies. The reason Arthur goes to such an extreme measure is because he has no knowledge that Lee is with Joanie. As a result, he simply thinks that his friend Lee is taking time out of his day to help him. This explains why Arthur constantly asks if he is "waking" Lee, and ultimately why he lies to him by telling him that Joanie has come home. He feels terribly guilty for imposing all of his problems onto Lee, and finally decides that he has burdened Lee enough, proclaiming that his wife has come home and that Lee can forget about it, even if this means Arthur must figure out his dilemma alone. Lee, who knows for a fact that Arthur is lying, because Joanie is still in his room, reacts accordingly, by "bridg[ing] his left hand over his eyes" and "leaving his fingers bridged over his eyes" (128). He knows that Arthur is lying and it pains him to see his friend have to lie to him because he guilty that he is taking up his time. As a result, Lee covers his face with his hand in frustration, agony, and guilt, knowing that it is he who is causing his friend all this pain, to the point where Arthur feels like he has to lie, but that he can't tell Arthur anything without jeopardizing himself.
Right after picking up the phone, and several times throughout the rest of the first phone conversation, Lee's actions are very suspicious, indicating that there is more going on under the surface of this phone conversation. The main way in which Lee expresses this are through his numerous subtle glances towards the girl in his room. After he hears a mere one sentence from Arthur over the phone, Lee "glance[s] briefly left, at the girl" (116). Immediately after hearing his voice, Lee knows that it is Arthur at the other end of the line and looks at the girl. The fact that after hearing Arthur's voice, before even hearing his predicament, Lee's first instinct is to look at the girl indicates that there is a good chance the girl is Joanie. Upon realizing that it is Arthur on the other end of the line, Lee understands the situation realizes how much trouble he is in, and guiltily glances at Joanie as a result of this. This is the only plausible explanation that would prompt such a response from Lee. While we might forgive Lee and pass this off as a coincidence if it only happened once, it is the fact that Lee constantly makes these guilty glances towards the girl that further support the motion that his friend's wife is currently in his room. The second time Lee looks at the girl, he tries to be more covert about it, looking "left again, but high this time, away from the girl, who was now watching him..." (116). In the time span of what has to be only a few seconds, Lee looks at the girl twice. The second time, however, Lee doesn't look directly at Joanie, but looks above her, while still turning in her direction, making it appear as though he doesn't want Joanie to realize that he's looking at her. When Lee looks at the girl for the fourth time, he tries to appear as inconspicuous as possible: "The gray-haired man turned his head again toward the girl, perhaps to show her how forbearing, even stoic, his countenance was. But the girl missed seeing it" (122). This time, when Lee looks at Joanie, he tries to dupe her into thinking that nothing is wrong, by putting on a blank, unemotional face. He knows that if he appears worried, Joanie will realize what's going on and tries hard to prevent this through his stoic facial expression. Lee's constant glances heavily imply that the girl in his room is indeed Joanie.
So, if the girl with Lee is Joanie, why does Arthur call Lee for the second time, this time claiming that Joanie has just returned home and thanking Lee for his help? At first, when Arthur makes this call to Lee, the very belief that the girl is Joanie is once again thrown into question, but further analysis reveals that the notion still stands, and that it is Arthur who has lied to his friend in an attempt to relieve the perceived burden he has placed on Lee's shoulders, while cleansing his own guilt that he feels. Arthur speaks: "Yeah. She just barged in. [...] I just thought I'd give you a ring while she's in the john" (128) Arthur's tone of voice appears drastically different from the previous conversation. This would be understandable if Joanie had actually come home and Arthur's tone turned more relived and relaxed, but instead, Arthur speaks very casually, using language such as "give you a ring," and "in the john." Arthur's tone is so casual that his words almost seem forced during this scene, as if he is trying as hard as he cant to get Lee to believe his lies. The reason Arthur goes to such an extreme measure is because he has no knowledge that Lee is with Joanie. As a result, he simply thinks that his friend Lee is taking time out of his day to help him. This explains why Arthur constantly asks if he is "waking" Lee, and ultimately why he lies to him by telling him that Joanie has come home. He feels terribly guilty for imposing all of his problems onto Lee, and finally decides that he has burdened Lee enough, proclaiming that his wife has come home and that Lee can forget about it, even if this means Arthur must figure out his dilemma alone. Lee, who knows for a fact that Arthur is lying, because Joanie is still in his room, reacts accordingly, by "bridg[ing] his left hand over his eyes" and "leaving his fingers bridged over his eyes" (128). He knows that Arthur is lying and it pains him to see his friend have to lie to him because he guilty that he is taking up his time. As a result, Lee covers his face with his hand in frustration, agony, and guilt, knowing that it is he who is causing his friend all this pain, to the point where Arthur feels like he has to lie, but that he can't tell Arthur anything without jeopardizing himself.
Thursday, February 4, 2016
An Interfamilial Relationship
Right off the bat in the story "A Perfect Day for Bananafish," in Salinger's Nine Stories, we are introduced to Muriel, a daughter on vacation with her war-veteran husband Seymour. Not long thereafter we are introduced through the phone to Muriel's mother, who wastes no time in interrogating Muriel about whether she is safe or not and bringing up Seymour and his mental instability. Her mother clearly does not trust Seymour, as she constantly feels insecure about his peculiarities and behaviors in context of his mental state. The entire dynamic of the conversation itself shows the difference in interests between the two parties. At first, Muriel is not nearly as invested in the conversation as her mother is, and only later begins to speak more substantially in order to calm her mother down. Muriel's mother, on the other hand, evidently cares about Muriel's safety, but her constant interruptions and excessive questioning of Muriel give us the sense that she is just an overprotective mother and Muriel is the young, calmer kid in this relationship. Interestingly, after reading the last lines, we learn that it is the extensively overprotective mother who was closer to the truth after all.
On the first page of the story, we already get a sense of Muriel's disinterested nature with respect to the phone call: "She was a girl who for a ringing phone dropped exactly nothing. She looked as if her phone had been ringing continually ever since she had reached puberty" (3). Although Muriel is the one who originally dialed in the call to her mother, even after the long two and a half hour wait she is less that eager to pick up the phone. She specifically knows that it is her mother on the other end of the line, but immediately appears aloof and uninterested, as she takes her sweet time to pick up the phone, waiting until "it was the fifth or sixth ring" (4) to pick it up. This, in stark contrast to Muriel's mother's fast-paced bombardment of questions, lead us to see Muriel as the cool, confident daughter who is constantly fending off her overprotective mother's far fetched worries in this classic mother-daughter relationship. A mere seconds after confirming that it is indeed Muriel on the other side of the line, the mother cuts off Muriel's explanation of why she took so long to call to simply ask "Are you all right, Muriel" (4). This abrupt interruption on the part of Muriel's mother, not even taking into account what Muriel was saying, insinuate towards Muriel's true worry in the conversation: Seymour. Her constant repetition of the question "Are you all right?" as well as her manner of rapidly asking things such as "when did you get there?" and "who drove" (5) portray her as a stereotypical, overprotective mother. While Muriel does interrupt her mother herself at times, it is mainly to calm her mother down. Her responses are reasonable and coherent, and it is because of this that the mother's constant fretting about Seymour appears unwarranted and futile; it seems that Muriel is safe has everything under control, as she constantly seeks to reassure her mother that everything is in order every time her mother interrupts with worry.
In addition to the dynamic of the conversation itself, it is important to note that the setting of this scene of the story itself takes place in the hotel at which Muriel and Seymour are staying, and not, conversely, at Muriel's' mother's home. Because we see this phone conversation through the eyes of Muriel, we can observe the little subtleties in the way she talks to her mother that sway us, as readers, towards her side of the argument. The first instance of one of these subtleties is the moment when Muriel "turned the receiver slightly away from her ear" (4) after having exchanged a mere two sentences with her mother. This implies that the mother is borderline shouting her overzealous worries into the phone, to the point where Muriel has to literally increase the distance between the receiver and her ear in order to prevent damage to her eardrum. The fact that she has to repeat this action and "increase[] the angle between the receiver and her ear" (4), accentuates this notion. In conjunction with this action of moving the receiver away from her ear, Muriel's actions of smoking in this scene speak to her attitude towards the conversation. Interrupting her mother, Salinger narrates after Muriel speaks: "Just a second, mother," the girl said. She went over to the window seat for her cigarettes, lit one, and returned to the seat on her bed. "Mother?" she said, exhaling smoke" (6). We can observe from this scene how Muriel feels about her mother's claims and the conversation as a whole. She interrupts her mother's recounting of last nights events just to go outside and light a cigarette. It's almost as if Muriel knows that she is in for a long, tiresome conversation, and decides to smoke a cigarette to try and alleviate some of this frustration that results from fending off her mother's worries. The exhaling of smoke act as a sort of a mental preparation to continue the conversation with her mother. The whole procedure of interrupting her mother to light and smoke a cigarette implies that Muriel is confident in herself, and truly believes that everything is fine and that her mother shouldn't worry. She supposedly knows what the situation is better than her mother, and it is now just a matter of convincing her mother that there is no need to worry, taking a quick smoke to relieve herself and prepare her for the rest of the conversation. Ironically, as we are built up to lean towards Muriel, and this notion holds up for all but the last page of the story, it in this last page, when Seymour kills himself for no apparent reason, that forces us to look back and realize that maybe Muriel's mother's worrying wasn't so unwarranted after all.
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