As you read The Violent Bear It Away, you will undoubtedly mark some passages and annotate the text as you read. For this post, offer your comments on an interesting passage: type the passage (1-5 sentences) here and then offer a response. Your response may be a series of questions about the passage or a description of what you find confusing or strange about it. This post is here so that you can read other people's comments and, perhaps, get some ideas for your essay. (Don't forget to review the CES and Elements of Style.)
Posts
“[…] It was a lavender and cream-colored car. The boy scrambled in without looking at the driver and closed the door and they drove on.
ReplyDelete“Then he turned and looked at the man and an unpleasant sensation that he could not place came over him. The person who had picked him up was a pale, lean, old-looking young man with deep hollows under his cheekbones. He had on a lavender shirt and a thin black suit and a panama hat. His lips were as white as the cigaret that hung limply from one side of his mouth. His eyes were the same color as his shirt and were ringed with heavy black lashes. A lock of yellow hair fell across his forehead from under his pushed-back hat. He was silent and Tarwater was silent. He drove at a leisurely rate and presently he turned in the seat and gave the boy a long personal look. ‘Live around here?’ he asked” (227).
I didn’t write my essay about this passage, or anything related to it, but it jumped into my mind as soon as I read the prompt because I found it an extremely strange, not to mention disturbing, description.
Some thoughts and questions:
I started to feel uneasy upon reading that the car was lavender and cream-colored, but told myself sternly to give O’Connor a little more credit. Then I got to the limp cigarette and knew nothing good could come of the characterization, and sure enough, the lavender-loving man ends up being a homosexual child-assaulting rapist. I suppose my question is what to make of this? The description of the rapist reads like a collection of clichés and stereotypes, clustered together for maximum prurience. Why might O’Connor have included it? Alternatively—if she was going to include it (and she evidently was) why not go all the way and have the man reading some Oscar Wilde as he drove, and lisping? What, really, is the point of this episode? I am unable to fathom it, perhaps because my hippie sensibilities are blinding me to its artistic worth. Though I suppose it is an effective passage in that it is one of the ones I remember most strongly.
- Kate
Frank Tarwater repeats one assertion throughout much of the novel, "There are them that can act." And he is one that can act. At some point, it becomes his mantra for life.
ReplyDeleteI bring up this line because on multiple occasions I felt incapable of action--drawn into O'Connor's story as a helpless bystander. I "knew" Tarwater was going to drown Bishop, and I "knew" Tarwater was going to baptize Bishop. But in each instance I was just as appalled by the event. I felt somewhat hopeless and vulnerable to O'Connor.
I also wondered if Tarwater was really taking action. Did he "act" under his own will? He actually ended up doing what BOTH of his uncles requested. I'm only through chapter 11, so maybe something else happens; but, as of right now, Frank seems to be the executor of his uncles' wills, not his own.
-M. Daniele
All he would be was an observer. He waited with serenity. Life had never been good enough to him for him to wince at its destruction. He told himself that he was indifferent even to his own dissolution. It seemed to him that this indifference was the most that human dignity could achieve, and for the moment forgetting his lapses, forgetting even his narrow escape of the afternoon, he felt he had achieved it. To feel nothing was peace. (200)
ReplyDeleteThis passage, which happens as Rayber wakes up from the nap he took while the boys were on the lake, may be Rayber's moment of grace. O'Connor has, at this point, shown us that Rayber has been trying cope with the cruelness of the world through intellectualism. This is his first recognition that his way of trying to understand the world has failed him, and the alternative he discovers - indifference - shows us how powerless he feels. The grace, then, is that Rayber is relieved of his compulsion to understand the world - he no longer has to worship understanding.
My big question is, why does Rayber receive the capacity for indifference when he could also be set free by the capacity for sustained love? Is it possible for Rayber to wake up from a nap and realized he could find happiness in loving Bishop and Francis? Or is the method of Rayber's salvation supposed to show us something about how he finds his salvation - that this wasn't grace at all, this was desperation out of cowardice, confusion, and spiritual weakness. The reader is really set up to root for Rayber getting the kind of salvation that Mr. Head got. Instead, it seems like indifference will make Rayber whither away as a person. Does O'Connor need to shatter his character here, so that the book can proceed without him?
Pat H.
This passage, for me, ties in with Kate's passage (rather the two characters mentioned in them to me tie together somehow... in a way I'm still trying to work out)
ReplyDelete"Meeks was telling him about the value of work. He said that it had been his personal experience that if you wanted to get ahead, you had to work. He said this was the law of life and it was no way to get around it because it was inscribed on the human heart like love they neighbor. He said these two laws were the team that worked together to make the world go round and that any individual who wanted to be a success and win the pursuit of happiness, that was all he needed to know" (56)
Meeks's time in the novel is very short and the impression he makes on Tarwater is very insignificant. Tarwater does not pay attention to any of the 'words of wisdom' that he tries to offer. As noted in the passage by loving thy neighbor and working hard you can be a success, according to the book of Meeks. These seem to be the most honest virtues out of anyone in the entire novel and it seems ironic that Tarwater would not pay any attention to them.
I suppose my question would be: is there supposed to be some kind of contrasting connection between Meeks and the lavender clad pedophile toward the end of the novel? Tarwater pays little attention to Meeks but he pays more attention to the rapist with his drugs and alcohol, (so I believe). Is that supposed to be suggestive of the path which Tarwater has traveled down since his experience? I dont mean tthe fact that he was raped to be part of "his path" but the idea that he would be more willing to accept alcohol than words of advice. (Or something like that...)
- Shannon M.
"I know everything but machines," Tarwater said, sitting back again. "My great-uncle learnt me everything but first I have to find out much of it is true."
ReplyDeleteThis passage is from page 79, right after Tarwater is picked up by Meeks, the salesman. I found it interesting because his education and industry come up multiple times throughout the novel, and I'm not sure what to make of it.
I get the sense that O'Connor included this to accentuate the limited knowledge of the boy even though he's already 14 years old. I found my self asking, if he doesn't know machines, and we're in the south in probably the early 1950s, what does he know? It seems like he doesn't really know much at this point, except that he's doubting a lot of what his great-uncle taught him.
So in retrospect a lot of other details of the novel seem to gain importance, particularly the corkscrew/bottle opener Rayber gives him as a gift--the closest he gets to "teaching him a machine." There's also Rayber's hearing aid, that Tarwater never really understands.
All in all I only have a vague sense of where this is going... but I do think that O'Connor chooses technology/machinery as a trope to make a clearer distinction between the world Tarwater is a part of and the world Rayber tends to bring him to.
Whoever wrote the previous comment about machines should email me: I can't give credit without knowing the author. Thanks.
ReplyDelete"you'll be better off in these woods by yourself with just as much light as the sun wants to let in than you'll be in the city with him" (24).
ReplyDelete"The sun had slipped over the blue line of trees and circled by a haze of yellow was moving slowly across the sky" (25).
"the sun which drifted pale in a pale sky, too far away to ignite anything" (28).
When reading the book, I annotated many of the passages about the sun because it seems as though the sun is a metaphor for God in some way. I don't know if it's supposed to God's eye watching, or a symbol of God's power, or just the presence of the heavens hanging over all of the characters.
In the first line mentioned, the sun stands for pure light, in contrast to the light that comes from the city. The uncle is commenting that any light Tarwater gets will come directly from the heavens and will be controlled by God, not man-made and created the way light is in the city.
In the second line is a little twinge of religious imagery, because the sun is surrounded by a kind of 'halo' in this passage.
In the third, Tarwater and his uncle are witnessing the sun from their within the city. When Tarwater looks at the sun from his place at the lawyer's window, it is "too far away to ignite anything". I don't think this means that God's wrath can't reach the city. I took it to mean that being in the city is akin to being far from God.
Toward the end of the book, Tarwater describes how he tried as a child to control the sun, which of course was impossible. At that point in the book, the conflict within him is building to its strongest point, and he resents the sun and "would have liked for it to get out of the sky altogether" (221). The sun's constant presence feels like pressure at this point.
Though I'm staying away from the sun thing altogether in my essay, I do think it's a significant symbol, and that it definitely represents God.
-Laura So
This line occurs when Rayber is peering through the tabernacle window and listening to Lucette, the child prophet, preach the word of God:
ReplyDelete“To Rayber she was like one of those birds blinded to make it sing more sweetly. Her voice had the tone of a glass bell. His pity encompassed all exploited children—himself when he was a child, Tarwater exploited by the old man, this child exploited by parents, Bishop exploited by the very fact he was alive” (131).
The first line directly relates to the discussion of acute senses. The bird’s blindness causes a compensatory singing talent. I’m not sure what the significance of her tone of voice sounding like a glass bell is, but I am guessing it shows how high-pitched her childlike voice is, stressing the tragedy of her exploitation. Lucette’s exploitation is a source of family income and mobility; they travel the world as God fearing missionaries living off of the contribution basket. This passage is also one of the first times we see a confession from Rayber addressing personal damage from the old man, and he shows sympathy towards children who share a similar experience. The most powerful line from this quote deals with Bishop’s exploitation. If he is a victim by merely by living life, did Tarwater do him a favor and free him from the shackles of life by drowning/baptizing him?
-Michelle Peterson
On page 240:
ReplyDeleteBuford said, "It's owing to me he's resting there. I buried him while you were laid out drunk. It's owing to me his corn has been plowed. It's owing to me the sign of his Saviour is over his head."
When I read this I found myself asking, "Why would Buford do that?" It was certainly a kind gesture, but what prompted it? Is Buford meant to show a contrast between simple "good" people who live their faith through actions and those Tarwater-esque prophets who are insistent and proud? Or, was having the body buried and the fields in order meant solely as another slap-in-the-face confirmation to Francis, proving that his destiny is to follow in the footsteps of his great uncle and become a prophet? Buford plays a strange role in this novel - he is a very minor character, yet he makes everything sort of click in together at the end. This is fairly strange, and almost seems unreal at first, much like Francis's vision of the well before he reached the house. Overall, I suppose the issue I am raising here is what Buford's symbolic purpose in the novel is.
-Daniel R. Ball
“The boy looked up into his friend's eyes, bent upon him, and was startled to see that in the peculiar darkness, they were violet-colored, very close and intense, and fixed on him with a peculiar look of hunger and attraction. He turned his head away, unsettled by their attention” (214-215).
ReplyDeleteWhen I first read over this passage, there didn't seem to be too much meaning to it. From the onset, the “friend” had caused Tarwater to doubt his religious upbringing and to try and forsake it. If not an incarnation of the devil, the “friend” is certainly still something evil. The passage, then, seemed to serve little more than a confirmation that the “friend” is not out to benefit Tarwater.
However, the rapist later is characterized by lavender. The use of another shade of purple could simply have been a cue that something evil was to happen to Tarwater again. However, as reflected in Kate's post, a random use of lavender, along with the other descriptions and behavior of the rapist, seems hardly befitting of O'Connor's writing. Why, then, did O'Connor decide to use purple for the incarnations of evil?
A quick search of purple's use in religion brought up Advent and Lent. Advent leads up to the birth of Christ, while Lent leads up to the rebirth of Christ. Perhaps purple goes beyond being a color for evil but also represents Tarwater's preparation phase before his rebirth as a prophet. Purple does seem to only be used after Tarwater drowns Bishop.
Of course, a color could just be a color.
-James F.
“Jesus or the devil, the boy said.
ReplyDeleteNo no no, the stranger said, there ain’t no such thing as a devil. I can tell you that from my own self-experience. I know that for a fact. It ain’t Jesus or the devil. It’s Jesus or you.” (39)
This is one scenario where the “stranger” is tempting Tarwater into leading his own life and not follow in the footsteps of his great-uncle. James mentioned above that the stranger or friend is either the devil or something evil. He is definitely right, however, Tarwater’s “stranger” is also a part of him. This stranger is the teenage need for Tarwater to do whatever he wants because he can. An interesting aspect of this is the progression of Tarwater’s imaginary friend.
This character starts out as a “stranger”. A stranger is someone you may listen to, but you probably won’t buy into what they have to say. You are polite, but don’t take them too seriously. Tarwater never really experienced these doubts before. He may have secretly felt this way about his great-uncle, but he never gave a lot of thought to them.
Later, the character becomes a “friend”. A friend is someone you listen more closely too. You may not necessarily hold the same beliefs, but you definitely consider them. For Tarwater this means that he is beginning to buy into the doubt his friend is feeding him.
Finally, the character is called his “mentor”. Mentors are to be modeled and emulated. Every word they say is gold. When Tarwater sees his friend as a mentor, we know that he believes everything he says.
Tarwater needs to go down this path. He needs to doubt God and maybe even be raped in order to see the burning bush and get his message from God. No one gets a message or a sign by just waiting for it. Tarwater said himself that he needed to act.
~Tina N.
“I say suppose nothing don’t happen?” Meeks repeated. The boy looked at him darkly remembering the silence after his great uncle’s death. “Well?” Meeks said. “Then I’ll make it happen,” he said, “I can act.”
ReplyDeleteBefore the death of his great uncle, the actions of Francis are heavily altered if not completely controlled by his great uncle. Although at points Francis has flashes of rebellion, ultimately everything he does before his great uncle dies is a result of what his great uncle taught him. After his death, a void was created inside Francis and there was no longer a person to tell him what to do – “the silence after his great uncle’s death”. Francis believes that he has the ability, after his great uncle’s death, to make his own decisions, however as the story continues we only learn that his actions are still controlled by his great uncle even after his death. Like we explored the concept of individuality in Auster, and the kind of gray area that surrounds it, I get a sense of the same uneasiness associated with individuality. Francis is so molded by his great uncle that at times it seems as if he is completely replaced by his great uncle.
Alex B.
"Only every now and then it sounded like a stranger's voice to him. He began to feel that he was only just now meeting himself, as if as long as his uncle had lived, he had been deprived of his own acquaintance."
ReplyDeleteThings got confusing once the "stranger" came into play in the novel as it appeared as soon as the old man died, at times sounding like a stream of conscious and at times sounding like an altogether different person. This question plagued me until the very end of the novel as it is never completely clear to me whether or not this is Tarwater wrestling with his own thoughts of resentment towards the old man and the life he carved out for him or whether this "stranger" is supposed to represent the devil or some dark force talking Tarwater out of doing God's work like the snake in the garden of Eden.
By saying that the appearence of this voice felt to Tarwater like he was only just meeting himself, it is either implying that he had never before had the opportunity to think freely and contradict his great uncle's wishes (which seems highly unlikely given his defiant attitude even in flashbacks) or suggests that he is confronting all of those feelings that contradicted him and finally taking them seriously. Snuffing the voice out at the end of the novel really didn't help me come to a conclusion on either end but that's probobly what O'Connor wanted.
-Leticia C.
"Rayber cringed. Simply by the sight of her he could tell that she was not a fraud, that she was only exploited" (129).
ReplyDeleteThis is one of many places in the text where the authenticity of a person's spirituality is questioned, but here, the issue is abstracted from the two Tarwater's, and we are made to focus on this little girl. Of course, later on in the novel, when young Tarwater seems to have a real spiritual awakening, as he goes off to "warn the children of God of the terrible speed of mercy" (242), the question is blown up to epic proportions: Tarwater is really setting out on a prophetic quest, to redeem the souls of the city residents. But that moment should then bring us back to this one, when we see one of these prophets in action: a little girl, who is not a fraud, but who is clearly being exploited. Are we to think, then, that Tarwater’s redemption is authentic, or simply that he has fooled himself? that there is the potential he will be taken advantage of in the same way? that he is a fake but doesn't know it?
These are issues that are left unresolved despite the language of redemption used in the closing pages of the book, simply because it is not clearly whether this redemption exists only in Tarwater's head, or in the realm of God as well. God is never directly present in O'Connor's works, so her works, while certainly produced by, and pointing towards, a spiritual world, remain ambiguous, and this ambiguity is amplified by the actions and stories of other characters, like this little girl. It is difficult to read the final pages without wondering whether or not Tarwater has been hood-winked by his own misfortune, whether he has succumbed finally to the influence of his uncle.
Chris M
"Rayber saw himself fleeing with the child to some enclosed garden where he would teach her the truth, where he would gather all the exploited children of the world and let the sunshine flood their minds" (133).
ReplyDeleteOn first glance, the passage seems typical of Rayber’s philosophy. Upset about the child preaching, whom he believes is being exploited by her parents, Rayber reflects on the value of secularism. In much the same way that he deals with Tarwater, Rayber envisions himself teaching her the truth as he sees it, not as religion does.
The most crucial aspect of the passage, however, raises questions about his commitment to secularism: he sees himself fleeing to an “enclosed garden” with the child. I am certainly not suggesting that Rayber’s vision as depicted here is one of piety or religious fervor, but in a novel so heavily laden with religious symbolism, the reference to the garden is impossible to ignore. Why would O’Connor make someone so deeply irreligious envision a flight to a utopic garden? It could be that he is, in a sense, rewriting religious history. More convincing than that, I think, is that the passage allows his (subtle, but certainly present) religious ambivalence to surface.
-B. Long
"The woman looked in front of her for some time as if she were seeing her own thoughts before her like unintelligible handwriting on the wall. Then she looked down at the card on the counter and turned it over. 'Francis Marion Tarwater,' he had written. 'Powderhead, Tennessee. NOT HIS SON.'"
ReplyDeleteI find this passage significant to the entire story. During the course of the story, Tarwater seems to refuse his uncle's ideas of him being a prophet. He says that he will do what he wants and that he didn't ask for any of these burdens, such as burying his uncle or making the cross for him. He says that it is a "trifle." Yet, he cannot separate himself from his great uncle.
It is obvious that the boy is religious and on a spiritual journey to find himself. He wavers from accepting his fate as a prophet to accepting that his great uncle was crazy and that he is no prophet. Before this scene however, I thought he would not baptize the Bishop and made up his mind. However, as soon as he signs his name with "NOT HIS SON", it seems that he has the opposite intention and WILL accept his fate as a prophet-though the results cause him to waver yet again. It is not until the end that he makes up his mind after a lot of destruction(the man in lavender)to accept his fate.
-Nancy Nguyen
Good job -- post closed.
ReplyDelete