Torrey’s Boy employs
a second person, stream of consciousness piece that immediately begins with a
list of condescending commands, “Grab a chain out back of the old Ford…make
sure you attach the chain right” (120). The list reads as the narrator’s ideas
of “how to be man” complete with tenets of masculinity such as work, domestic
tasks (taking out the garbage), and what car to get (not a car a truck). For
the first half of the piece, I was extremely turned off by its “how to be a man
list,” thinking that the second person is a difficult perspective for an author
to master without seeming commanding and condescending to the reader. This
individualist perspective has a limited view and reveals the unreliability of
the narrator.
I found the piece more engaging when I considered who the
possible intended audiences could be, the self, a father figure, a son? Maybe
it could even be read as all three. As the piece continues it devolves into a
more manic list. Its insistent reminders, “don’t forget to take out the trash,
the paper said the garbage pick-up date has changed, don’t forget” (120),
reveal the narrators insecurities about his ability to perform the laundry list
of masculine roles. Such a short piece, similar to Hill’s Glory Days is difficult to contextualize. The somewhat out of place
italics, “what if I don’t want to be a
mechanic, but a violinist” (121) suggest that the narrator’s thought
process is attempting to reconcile what his father/society expects of him, and
in turn what he expects from himself, and what he actually desires.
The narrator in Baker’s Losing
Shawn, Losing Me, similarly to Boy,
grapples with what she is supposed to want (adoption) and what she actually
wants (to keep Shawn). The setting of 1967 is ripe with negative ideas of what
“bad girls” do, the need to hide because “Nice girls didn’t get pregnant” (82).
Although the narrator is 18, the voice feels immature and as though she does
not have any agency as a character, that she is being pushed along by her
parents, their gendered expectations and shame. Despite the immature voice
there are moments in the piece where she breaks through, or at least it becomes
obvious she is aware of her lack of agency, “I am in a state of suspended
animation” (86).
Similar to Torrey, Baker employs italics to express the
intricacies within the narrator. Baker’s italics offer the caseworker’s
perspective of Deborah. As a reader, being wary of Deborah’s immature voice,
another perspective helps build trust. The italics clearly represent the
tension between her own desires and what she is supposed to do, “She seems to have a good deal of feeling
about the baby, while making it clear that she would rather abort it” (79).
The gender role that unfolds in the story is disturbing: unmarried pregnant
women are sent to a jail-like maternity home to hide their bodies, as
representations of something “bad” from public view while they took classes in
domestic training, “I was going to have to go back in the world as good
marriageable material, and the classes would help us become good wives” (86).
The maternity home and adoption process silence Deborah’s countercultural and
maternal experiences. And in Torrey, the Boy’s toughness tries to silence his “sissy”
tendencies.
-Andrea
Whatever period of time (in history) or society, the reconciling of expectations is a mess in the growing up narrative. I appreciate that you identified ways in which you saw these authors handling that tension through the use of pronouns, pov, and italics.good observations.
ReplyDeleteI like how you drew connections between the italics in each piece. I think your observations are excellent in that the italics are the actual desires of the narrators. It is interesting too that in Baker's piece the narrator says she feels comfortable around the psychologist. She feels comfortable enough to share her desires that she cannot share with anyone else. The narrator in Boy, however, is not comfortable sharing his desires with anyone but himself and then he is hardly comfortable (the italics being very short).
ReplyDeleteHello Andrea,
ReplyDeleteYou have some excellent observations here. You made me rethink my reading of "Boy," because I approached the piece assuming it was a son talking about what his father/father figure is telling him. The idea that the narrator could be giving a list of commands to the male readers is intriguing, and definitely off putting. And I think you are correct about the tone becoming manic. I felt the mania when reading the piece, and I think the mania really helps to solidify the confusion/horror of the list. The mania created tension between me and the piece.