Saturday, October 31, 2015

Final Thoughts on "Self-Help"

I thoroughly enjoyed Self-Help as it was a refreshing break from the conventional third person as well as the male-dominated perspective that we've experienced in the first three books we've read. Here are some of my thoughts on the book as a whole and as individual stories. 

Like many people in our class, I really enjoyed the second-person narrative. It was something that I hadn't experienced much before and I thought Moore used it very well. Though a lot of people said they often didn't notice the use of it, I was very aware of it. Unlike the traditional "choose your own adventure" type of story, Moore puts you in the bodies of her characters as if you're just along for the ride. I guess this makes the narrative voice less noticeable but for some reason it was unmissable to me. 

The level of detail in each story was striking. There's so much of it that Moore must be writing from personal experience. Another indication of this is the reoccurring premises of dysfunctional romantic and maternal relationships. It's safe to assume she's dealt with these issues herself.

"How to Become a Writer" is probably my favorite story from Self-Help for two reasons: it's hilarious and it's the only story not about inattentive partners or ailing mothers. One of the funniest parts of the story was the way Francie always randomly killed off her characters in every story. No matter what direction she got from her peers or teacher, she could not resist writing bizarre death stories. 
Write a short story about an elderly man and woman who accidentally shoot each other in the head, the result of an inexplicable malfunction of a shotgun which appears mysteriously in their living room one night.
Turn in a story [...] about two old people who are accidentally electrocuted when they go to turn on a badly wired desk lamp.
Write another story about a man and a woman who, in the very first paragraph, have their lower torsos accidentally blitzed away by dynamite. 
"To Fill" was my second favorite story. Though it involves both a dysfunctional marriage and mother-daughter relationship, the plot wasn't the stereotypical husband cheats & wife puts up with it cliche. You can really feel Riva's growing anxiety/insanity in the narrative voice and the theme of control/possession is incorporated very well. There's great humor in this one too. 
And then the prince took Sleeping Beauty in his arms and said: Let us be married, fair lady, and we shall live happily ever after or until the AFC championship games, whichever comes first. 
Do I grow slinky? I think of carrot sticks and ice and follow Jeffrey's lead. I am snapping my fingers, wiggling, bumping, grinding. Mom, giggles Jeffrey. That's too kinky. And later, alone, the night outside grows inky, like my thoughts, my thoughts. I am dying for a Twinkie.  
Well, Tom, Sergeant, babydollbaby. Do I get into a prone position? A provolone position? I lumber into bed like a mammoth cheese. 

Thursday, October 15, 2015

The Man Child: Jamie or Eric?

Who is the man child in "The Man Child"? We have two candidates: Jamie and Eric. Jamie fits the traditional definition of an adult male that acts and thinks immaturely while Eric is a child whose awareness of the world (or at least his world) is well beyond his age. There can only be one man child, otherwise Baldwin would've titled the story "The Man Children," right? Okay, maybe he didn't because that sounds kind of awkward. Nevertheless, there are two distinct scenes in the book where each candidate makes a strong claim as the title character.
"Ah, the lord, the master of this house arrives! And bears on his shoulders the prince, the son, and heir! My lords! Behold your humble, most properly chastised servant, desirous of your compassion, your love, and your forgiveness!" 
This is the snippet from the birthday scene where Jamie's built-up resentment toward Eric's father is painted very clearly. Eric's father has everything Jamie doesn't--land, a wife, and a child. As Eric's father's best friend, Jamie is not only constantly reminded of this but also the debt he owes Eric's father. Jamie was given money for his poor land and pretty much lives as part of Eric's family. Both Eric's father and mother push Jamie to start a life of his own (move away, remarry, etc.) yet he shrugs off the necessity like a college kid refusing to stop living off his parents. Despite owing Eric's father from becoming homeless, Jamie displays no gratitude other than empty words. Instead using this second chance at life to work at getting what Eric's father has, Jamie spends most of his time drunk and resenting him for having it.  
"Why do you hate my father?"
"I love your father."

"Jamie, you can have the land. You can have all the land." 

"I don't want the land."

"If you kill my father I can be your little boy and we can have it all!" 

"This land will belong to no one."
This is the back-and-forth between Eric and Jamie during the strangulation scene that serves as the jarring ending to the story. Eric's awareness in this situation is very striking. Not only does he immediately try to leave--sensing the danger as Jamie closes the barn door--he doesn't reduce to crying like most other 8-year-olds would. Though he's understandably panicking as Jamie's hands tighten around his throat, he doesn't give up on his life. On the surface, you could see these statements as desperation attempts to stay alive but it's really evidence that Eric knows Jamie's motives. 

I like the idea that the title can refer to both Jamie and Eric but I can't shake the sense that Baldwin purposely left it singular to allude to only one of them. What do you think? 

Sunday, October 4, 2015

Lee and Joanie's Relationship

After our discussion of "Pretty Mouth and Green My Eyes," I realized there was a lot Salinger left open to interpretation. He relies almost entirely on dialogue to give us insights on the characters so we're left to fill in ambiguities like how close Lee and Arthur are or what exactly Joanie and Lee are doing. Here's my analysis of Lee and Joanie's relationship. 

The general consensus in class seemed to be that they were having an affair. Someone suggested that Joanie could be with Lee just to escape from Arthur's drunkenness but from the opening scene we know that she and Lee are in some sort of intimate position. That combined with Lee lying to Arthur about Joanie's whereabouts makes it pretty obvious they're sleeping together and not just hanging out.

One of the big unknowns is the extent of their affair. It's hard to tell if it's deeper than just sex since Salinger includes very little interaction between them. We essentially only see them smoking cigarettes and sharing feelings of relief after successfully deceiving Lee. The only evidence that suggests that they're emotionally attached to each other is when Joanie calls Lee "darling." It's just one word yet it's a term of endearment which I think would be weird to use in a strictly sexual relationship. Still, it's not enough of an indicator that their relationship is more than a casual affair.

As for guessing how long it's been going on, there again isn't much to go off of. Arthur's depiction of Joanie as a lustful "animal" suggests that she has a history of infidelities so it wouldn't be a reach to say her affair with Lee has been going on for a while. However, his characterization of his wife is given through a series of alcohol-induced rants so it wouldn't be fair to judge Joanie solely off of Arthur's words. Salinger doesn't include Joanie's perspective so we really don't know if Arthur is just overly paranoid in his drunken state or if Joanie really is all he makes her up to be. Lee calmly handling Arthur while Joanie stays silent seems like a routine for them so it's safe to assume it's not their first time together.

The only thing I can say with certainty is that Lee and Joanie's relationship is far from black and white.