Final Presentation Script

Throughout the summer, I have conducted a thorough survey of the southern gothic movement in an attempt to chart the oppression of minorities through these progressive works. As I previously mentioned during my last presentation, many writers commonly associated with the genre: William Faulkner, Erskine Caldwell, Tennessee Williams, Carson McCullers, Flannery O’Connor, and Eudora Welty are publishing the majority of these works from the late 1920’s to the mid 1950’s—well before many substantial civil rights movements. Whether intentional or not, these works represent the first time that a group of predominately white authors are exposing the extreme injustices that many minority groups—such as women, African Americans, and homosexuals—experienced in the south. To say that they were all writing to illuminate the backwards attitudes towards oppressed people would be a grave mistake on my part; however, collectively they were extremely progressive with their gritty, stark, and brutally honest portrayals of marginalized groups.

I would like to reiterate some of the defining characteristics of the southern gothic movement that I mentioned last time. Many times, when the term southern gothic is used, it evokes a variety of different misconceptions. However, at its core, southern gothic literature depicts the crumbling landscape of the post bellum south; it illustrates the horrifying realities of its inhabitants who have lost their way of life and are quickly subjected to change. Borrowing from its Gothic predecessor, the southern gothic movement is also characterized by a heightened sense of reality, grotesque characters, religious hypocrisy, gratuitous violence, and disturbed personalities. However, the southern gothic movement differs immensely from its predecessor in that it does not portray supernatural occurrences; instead, it utilizes the veiled Gothic tradition to explore different social issues that plagued the American South. The movement also represents an evolution in southern literature: southern gothic works did not perpetuate antebellum stereotypes like the “contented slave” or “demure southern belle”; instead they portrayed the truthful realities of minorities in the south.

Last time, I talked about the works of Erskine Caldwell, Richard Wright, and Tennessee Williams in regards to their portrayals of women, African Americans, and homosexuals, respectively. This time, I would like to talk about two female writers who are normally associated with the latter phase of the movement: Carson McCullers and Flannery O’Connor.

Carson McCullers’ fiction is extremely important to my research because throughout each of her works she provides an array of marginalized figures. Most notably, her first published novel, The Heart is a Lonely Hunter, portrays not only oppressed women, African Americans, and homosexuals, but also expands the definition of “the oppressed” to include the disabled, poor whites, and anti-capitalists. Throughout all of McCullers' works, she investigates characters who are deemed freakish and grotesque; these characters do not belong to a larger social group because they are unconventional in their appearances, behaviors, and desires. Two of her most memorable female characters, Mick Kelly and Frankie Adams, represent young androgynous girls who exhibit atypical feminine mannerisms, an affinity for the camaraderie of males, and a strong sense of independence. In relation to other young southern girls, they are completely ostracized because of their unique attributes. Both of these characters are largely autobiographical of Carson McCullers, who, although married, was widely alleged to be bisexual. It is easier to argue that McCullers is writing to expose this oppression because, for her, it is highly personal. Evidence for this lies in her “we of me” theory. Due to her character’s internalized homophobia, they believe that society will never permit, nor allow, any openly expressed homoerotic feelings; therefore, they enter into platonic relationships with others, experiencing a highly spiritual love with these other characters, although the other they might not reciprocate the love. This concept also applies to all of the silenced characters in The Heart is a Lonely Hunter who find solace in the character of John Singer. It’s also important to note that McCullers was very liberal and open-minded; she embraced those who resided in margins, and would argue that grotesque appearances are merely superficial. On the other hand, she would also say that everyone is grotesque; “normal people” harbor their freakishness inwardly and illustrate it through their actions.

Flannery O’Connor’s represents another author who, through her fiction, draws attention to marginalized groups; however, O’Connor, as a conservative Catholic, possesses a completely different viewpoint than McCullers and most of the other writers of the southern gothic movement. Largely prevalent in O’Connor’s fiction is not only the oppression of women, but also the oppression of Christians or the morally upright. The abandoned female is an archetype that O’Connor most notably uses in the characters of Mrs. McIntyre in the short story “The Displaced Person” and Mrs. Cope in “A Circle in the Fire.” Also, the entrance of men into her plots often results in a disastrous and cataclysmic outcome; this is evident in the characters of Manly Pointer in “Good Country People” and Mr. Shiftlet in “The Life You Save May Be Your Own.” Throughout the short stories in the collection A Good Man is Hard to Find, O’Connor argues that men have certain options in their life that women simply do not. Women are left to be resilient in the face of adversity; whereas, men possess the mobility to escape. However, O’Connor sees modernity as the greatest problem facing the south. To her, modernization spells the downfall of a culture of god-fearing and morally decent people. O’Connor believes that progressive changes will lead people to follow secular pursuits. Her outlook is bleak and somewhat apocalyptic; however, it is also important to cite O’Connor’s devotion to Catholicism and her conservative roots. She identifies herself first and foremost as a Catholic, and modernity, to her, is the biggest threat to the future of religion.

Oppressive forces can range from the more naturalistic forces such as gender, sexual orientation, race, disability, and financial disposition to other realistic forces such as religious affiliation, political ideology, and even self-oppression. In southern gothic literature, I would maintain the argument that African Americans receive the most oppression as a minority group because of their legacy as marginalized people and because of their easily recognizable identity. Throughout the works, the white male majority maintains power and legitimacy by creating a distinct out-group. In regards to women and homosexuals, while their options in life are limited, they are not frequently targeted and subjected to the abuse that African Americans experienced. As long as they could endure the status quo, they were rarely subjected to extreme physical abuse. However, punishment and penalty for African Americans usually resulted in death, and their options were far slimmer compared to those of women and homosexuals. However, many of the later southern gothic writers also depicted the oppression of Jewish and European immigrants in the south, as illustrated in O’Connor’s “The Displaced Person." This minority group threatened white male control because they were educated, hardworking, and had the ability to pass: appear white. However, because of this , they fall into the same category as women and homosexuals because of their ability to assimilate and blend, compared with African Americans.

The latter part of the southern gothic movement expanded the definition of oppressed minorities, and exposed many startling realities that these groups experienced through the widely published and circulated novels.

Light in August

Throughout Light in August, Faulkner examines many themes pertinent to my research: the heavy burdens of the past, characters with confused identities, and racism. Many of the main characters—Lena, Joe Christmas, and Hightower—are also, in different ways, isolated from society. Joe’s ambiguous identity torments him, and also robs him of finding any true meaning in his life. Lena remains steadfast in her determination to find the father of her child, despite her naivety and idealistic intentions. Furthermore, Hightower hides from the past by virtually becoming a recluse; he desires something completely different than Joe Christmas.

The past also continually haunts the characters throughout the novel. Joe Christmas’ confusion surrounding his race prevents him from identifying with any group. He seems to be perpetually on the run, moving from white societies that cannot empathize with those of the African American race. Although Christmas is assumed to be black, he has no information confirming that he belongs to that racial group. Likewise, Joanna and Hightower represent two characters whose past continues to define their present status in society. Hightower is not only forever in the shadow of his heroic grandfather, but also continues to dote over his wife’s death. On the other hand, Joanna’s abolitionist past earns her the reputation of an African American sympathizer, which is a trait that Hightower also shares.

Light in August also exposes the oppression of key minorities that I am looking at this summer. Although it is not certain that Joe Christmas is black, he appears different in the eyes of society, and that is enough to subject him to racially motivated abuse. The “one drop” rule seems to be a common theme throughout the works that I have read this summer, and it certainly proves true in this case, also. If a person appeared to be any part black, then they were immediately labeled as African American. The character of Lena also represents the quintessential innocent woman, who is taken advantage of by a man and quickly abandoned. It is also of interest to note the homoeroticism present in the character of Joe Christmas. His relationships with women are highly atypical. Indeed, he seems to result to violence whenever he is patronized.

Bastard Out of Carolina

Through the eyes of its young narrator, Bone, Bastard Out of Carolina examines the relationship between Bone and her mother, Anney, who is caught between protecting her child, and trusting Glen, her lover. What is interesting about their circumstance is that Glen is not Bone’s biological feather; he is her stepfather. From the moment that Glen enters their lives, Bone is quite uncomfortable around him. This tension intensifies as he begins to physically and sexually abuse her. Although Bone despises Glen for taking advantage of her, she realizes that her mother is deeply in love with him. However, Anney is not oblivious to the abuse; she is always quick to initially come to Bone’s rescue, yet she continually justifies Glen’s actions. Because of this, Bone becomes completely confused. Her mother should assume a role as her protector, but she remains with Glen, setting Bone up for further abuse.

Although Bone has a small nuclear family, her extended family is rather large. Throughout the novel, the extended Boatwright family functions as a support system for one another. Although they all face their own respective problems, the Boatwright sisters are not just aunts; they are more like surrogate mothers to Bone. Glen even feels like an outsider to not only the Boatwright family, but also his own. He tries to move Anney and her daughters away from their close family, but it soon becomes clear that they cannot make it own their own. They cannot function without their relatives, who help one another in a multitude of ways: emotionally and financially. However, Anney and Bone seem to long for a typical family, which continually subjects them to further disappointment. Although the Boatwrights are dysfunctional, they are a tight-knit family that stands by one another, even in the most trying of circumstances. In her work, Allison illustrates that a “normal family” does not really exist. Every family—even if they have money—is flawed in some way.

The theme of sexuality is also important throughout Bastard Out of Carolina. In the novel, children, specifically young girls, become aware of their sexuality at a very young age. In fact, Anney even becomes pregnant with Bone when she is only fourteen. However, Bone does not become aware of sex through curiosity; she is introduced to it by Glen, who sexually abuses her before she enters puberty. Bone intensely fears and hates Glen’s actions, which leads her to equate sex with shame. As she ages, she does not become interested in boys or sex; instead, she views sex as a destructive act that drives a wedge between her relationship with her mother.

Bastard Out of Carolina offers interesting insight into the oppression of poor whites and women. The Boatwright clan lives paycheck-to paycheck; they purchase the bare necessities, nothing more. Bone understands that her mother cannot afford to buy her items that she desires, and soon realizes that she stands out in school. Her schoolmates marginalize her by referring to her as “trash” and even a “white nigger.” Despite the limitations that poverty presents, it also causes the Boatwrights to band together as a family. None of them are wealthy, but they offer one another whatever they can spare, which is usually only time and love. Additionally in the novel, women are oppressed by the repercussions of sex. Many of the Boatwright women are introduced to sex at a young, and, shortly after, become pregnant. In Anney’s case, she cannot even recall the father of Bone. Bastard Out of Carolina portrays men as opposing figures to women. In the novel, they are abusive, sexually domineering, un-trustworthy, and prone to irrational actions. Allison illustrates that women are yoked to their children in ways that men are not. They not only endure pregnancy, but also invest more into rearing the child. A man’s responsibility is to provide guidance, support, and love; however, the novel portrays a crew of male characters who fail to deliver in those departments.

Beloved

How far are you willing to go to protect your loved ones? Would you be able to kill someone who could potentially harm others, or would you be willing to sacrifice your life in order to save someone else? Would you murder your own children to protect them from a brutal life of slavery? In Beloved by Toni Morrison, she illustrates how a mother’s love would lead her to kill her own child, rather than lose her to a life of complete injustice: slavery. It is clear that the murder of Sethe’s daughter was committed as a preventive measure—out of love for her innocent child, but does Sethe love her children too much? Is she too attached to them? To some of the other characters, Baby Suggs and Paul D especially, a slave should never become too close to her children. In their eyes, it simply sets someone up for a life of torment and utter anguish.

Morrison focuses on the power of memory throughout the novel, and how the remembrance of a buried memory, or “rememory”, can be as traumatizing as the actual event. At the beginning of the novel, Sethe has managed to hide her memories of slavery, her escape, the brief period of peace in Cincinnati, and the event that led to her daughter’s death. To her, they are all better off forgotten. However, with the reentrance of Paul D into her life, Sethe’s memory jumps back to the old memories that she had with Paul D, ones that she tried to forget. Sethe learns that she has not escaped her past, and the emergence of the physical manifestation of her dead daughter’s spirit, Beloved, confirms the fact. Despite her actions, Sethe will continually be plagued by her past; it is as much a part of her as the present. Yet, especially at the end of the novel, both the group of women and Paul D try to convince her that she is not defined by it.

The notion of community is also important throughout Beloved. At the beginning of the novel, Sethe and Denver do not share any sense of community with the outside world. The only community that they know is the one that they comprise at 124 with the ghost of Sethe’s dead daughter. Although Sethe is able to manage, Denver is confined to a life of perpetual boredom. The African American community in Cincinnati ostracizes the residents of 124 soon after Sethe murders her daughter; however, in the years thereafter, Sethe remains too proud to accept help from anyone else. This can be attributed, in part, to the community failing to warn Sethe of Schoolteacher's return; however, the community eventually comes together to exorcise the spirit of Beloved, and offer their friendship to Sethe; they are finally willing to concede that she is enduring a memory that they helped to create. Denver accepts help from the community, and experiences catharsis by confiding in them; however, Sethe still struggles to come to terms with the past.

Out of all the novels I have read this summer, Beloved is probably the most Gothic of them all. In fact, I think that its safe to argue that it evolves more in the Gothic tradition, than the southern gothic tradition. Morrison uses supernatural occurrences, like the character of Beloved, to illustrate the power of the past. Beloved is an apparition of Sethe’s murdered daughter, who inhabits a human body, and mysteriously shows up outside of 124. She has intense psychological control over everyone at 124; they are all, in different ways, enslaved to her presence. A ghost assumed to be Beloved, as well, also haunts the house that Sethe and Denver inhabit. Additionally important is the theme of gratuitous violence. After the Garner’s die, Sethe is raped, whipped, and robbed of her milk. Similarly, Paul D endures much abuse on the chain gang, in addition to the labor-intensive tasks that he must complete. Death and murder are also prevalent in the novel: Sixo is lynched and Sethe murders her daughter, and attempts to murder all her children before she is stopped. Slavery also has a dehumanizing effect on the characters that leads to psychological torment, specifically in the character of Halle, who goes mad upon witnessing the abuse of his wife.

Beloved is an insightful look into the traumatizing effects that the institution of slavery had on African Americans. Morrison captures the anguish of her characters who might have physically escaped slavery, yet remain enslaved to the memory of the injustices associated with the institution. It is also important to note that there were no safe havens for slaves. As in Sethe’s case, their former masters would often travel great lengths and offer rewards for their return. Paul D and Halle were worked tirelessly for economic gain; whereas, Sethe was physically taken advantage of because of her gender. Although slavery on the Garner estate was atypical, slavery is slavery, and it forever scars those subjected to it, regardless of the degree.

The Color Purple

It seems that there is always strength in numbers; however, Alice Walker's Pulitzer Prize-winning epistolary novel, The Color Purple, claims that strength is also found in community, and through embracing your own identity. Although the novel portrays some strong female characters, they realize that their fight is not only an individual one; it is collective. Throughout the novel, the female characters band together not only to protect one another, but also to inspire each other to stand up for themselves, even if it means defying conventional ideals. Their methods echo the feminist sentiment that together women are warriors capable of anything. Although Shug and Sofia take their stand from the beginning of the novel, Celie’s evolution in character comes a bit later. Her character’s journey exposes the abuse and neglect that she has put up with for far too long, and, with the help of her female friends, she is able to finally embrace her gender, skin color, and sexuality.

Although the work is set in Georgia during the 1930’s, the issue of sexism, rather than racism, is more pronounced in the work. This is probably attributed to the fact that there are no major Caucasian characters in the novel. The only scene that illustrates race relations is when the Mayor slaps Sofia for telling him “hell no.” Walker does introduce us to the hard field labor that African Americans had to perform; however, The Color Purple pays more attention to the marginalization associated with not only being African American, but also being an African American woman. It is clear that, with the exception of Samuel, all of the other male characters cause great degrees of physical and psychological abuse to the women in the novel. Despite their subordinate status as African Americans in the South, they are not united together; instead, the male characters in novel, feel the need to control their women by force, a tactic that alienates both genders from one another.

Another point that the novel makes is that marginalized figures, like Celie, have no voice in the world. In Celie’s case, she is victimized by a father figure that is suppose to protect her, forced to part with her beloved sister, and given to a man that she does not love. Throughout the novel, Celie is victimized so much that she continues to endure further abuse. Her story parallels that of many African American women who endured injustice, after injustice. However, through the influence of others, Celie does manage to find her own voice.

Walker also portrays characters with nontraditional gender roles. Sofia and Shug represent two atypical African American women: they speak their mind, stand up to male figures, and control their own lives. They serve as foils to Celie, but also as catalysts who illustrate an independence that is within her reach. Shug is also sexually assertive, which leads many in society to label her as a harlot. However, she also influences Celie to embrace her own sexuality, body, and desires. Conversely, Harpo is portrayed as weak and insecure. He tries to make up for it by beating Sofia, but she refuses to put up with abuse, and leaves him.

The Color Purple also possesses an array of Gothic elements. Female directed violence is extremely pronounced throughout the work; it further marginalizes them by creating a scenario void of trust, and full of fear. Additionally, Celie’s presumed father commits incest by raping her multiple times, which results in Celie giving birth to two children. The repression that African Americans felt at the time also seems to also have a psychological effect on the male characters in the novel, who attempt to take out their frustration by further subordinating their female counterparts. However, although Celie believes that her sister, Nettie, is dead throughout most of the novel, she still has an intense connection with the ghost of her sister. Celie, no matter what, always seems to find solace in the memory of Nettie.

A Good Man is Hard to Find

Flannery O’Connor’s collection of short stories, A Good Man is Hard to Find, contains some of the most violent and startling, yet extremely humorous works. Throughout these short stories, O’Connor’s outlook on the future of the south quickly becomes apparent, and it’s pretty bleak—borderline apocalyptic. O’Connor feels that modernization represents the biggest problem facing the South. As a conservative Catholic, she believes that modernity will result in people turning their back on religion in order to follow secular pursuits. Due to the rise of industry, people will also become reliant on modern conveniences, forgetting a way of life that was hard, but kept them grounded. It seems that whenever an outsider from the city enters the plot—such as the Misfit, Mr. Shiftlet, Powell Byrd, and Manly Pointer—disaster is bound to shortly ensue. In the “Artificial Nigger”, Nelson's visit to Atlanta is so cataclysmic that it leads him to state “glad I've went once, but I'll never going back again.” I think O’Connor would probably agree.

The crew of characters in O’Connor’s short stories are both grotesque in their appearance and their actions. O’Connor shows no mercy in her characters: they are vile, shameless, and truly capable of anything. Indeed, O’Connor would say that the majority of her characters are grotesque on the outside, as well as the inside. In “The Life You Save May Be Your Own,” Mr. Shiftlet is armless, a trait that evokes empathy from Lucynell Crater; however, despite her belief that a man without an arm would be extremely grateful for anything, he still manages to do the unthinkable: abandon her mildly retarded daughter in a sketchy bar.

Another point that struck me is that in other southern gothic works, those who cling to religion are often exposed as extremely hypocritical. However, O’Connor argues that, despite our flawed nature, we all desire mercy and redemption from a higher authority. Although her characters commit some truly heinous transgressions, they are still deserving of the same salvation available to the morally upright. In “A Good Man Is Hard to Find”, the Misfit commits the cold-blooded murder of the Grandmother, yet she offers him grace in the face of death. Likewise, in “A Temple of the Holy Ghost”, the child finds redemption from her cynicism in church, realizing that the supernatural and reality are intertwined.

Throughout her short stories, there are also a few other Gothic themes. Death is certainly no stranger to O’Connor’s short stories. Indeed, she juxtaposes violent murders next to naturalistic causes throughout her collection in order to remind us of the unpredictability of life. Violence also heavily factors into her short stories, and usually it is at the hands of transient men: the Misfit, Mr. Shiftlet, Powell Byrd, and Manly Pointer. Also, in “The Life You Save May Be Your Own”, “The Displaced Person”, and “A Circle in the Fire”, O’Connor portrays crumbling farms that have become a vestige of their former prime.

Strong female characters also seem to pervade O’Connor’s work; she portrays women that have endured a lot of strife, yet have not given up. The characters of Mrs. Cope, Lucynell Crater, and Mrs. McIntyre represent a group of abandoned women that are left to run estates. Through these characters O’Connor points out that men have a greater mobility in life than women. Women have very few options outside of running the home, and O’Connor captures a feminine endurance in her characters, while drawing attention to the host of options that men possess. In “A Stroke of Good Fortune”, Ruby Hill is also of importance because she represents a “new southern women.” She views pregnancy as entrapment, which is pretty unconventional for a young southern woman. However, she does run into the moral dilemma: when do you stop living your own life, and devote your life to something greater than yourself. Also extremely pertinent to my research is the short story “The Displace Person.” It is important not only because of its portrayal of blacks, but also of immigrants. The concept of racial subordination is something that the family of immigrants cannot understand, which is evident when interracial marriage is discussed, much to the chagrin of Mrs. McIntyre. However, the family of immigrants soon become an economic threat to Mrs. McIntyre, and, since they are foreigners, she does not think it is acceptable for them to have more money. “The Displaced Person” provides a good look into race relations, and seems to argue that people are willing to go only so far to help out others.

A Curtain of Green

Eudora Welty’s collection of short stories, A Curtain of Green, examines her home state, Mississippi, through the eyes of its own people. Welty crafts her short stories to portray both the stark realities of Mississippi, and the comedy that pervades the ordinary lives of its citizens. However, Welty also infuses elements of horror into these works that are quite reminiscent of Poe; madness and violence are two common themes found throughout the collection. Additionally, she examines the state of race relations, sexual repression, and the slowly changing social roles of women in the South. Despite some of the shortcomings of her region, Welty seems to view Mississippi as a mystical and somewhat magical place, where the most mundane of tasks can turn into a fascinating experience.

Throughout most of the short stories, Welty uses dark, foreboding settings to create a mood that has frightening undercurrents. She not only uses the quintessential dilapidated house, but also utilizes barren fields and unchartered roads as the setting for her works. In “Death of A Traveling Salesman” the unknown road reinforces the theme of loneliness; whereas the landscape of “A Worn Path” presents Phoenix Jackson with a terrifying array of obstacles that she most overcome in order to get medicine for her grandson. In my mind, Welty is a master at establishing the mood through the distinct idiosyncrasies of her settings.

Welty’s short stories also capture the oppressive forces that marginalize minorities, especially women, throughout the South. “The Petrified Man” captures the sexual tension of women, which undoubtedly takes its toll on its female characters who have no outlet to express their frustration. “A Curtain of Green” and “Clytie” also represent two short stories that portray an overwhelming sense of madness that overtakes women left to manage a household; their fear and lack of companionship manifests in derangement. However, “A Worn Path” captures the frustration of Phoenix Jackson, an older African American woman, who embarks on a tumultuous journey out of the deep love that she feels for her grandson. A dog, heavy brush, a man with a gun, and her old age all deter her from her goal; however, she endures these hardships out of the devotion that she has for her loved one. In the same vein as O’Connor, Welty portrays women characters who have experienced much strife, yet still manage to keep going.

The Member of the Wedding

McCullers’ novella, Member of the Wedding, follows Frankie Addams through a series of events that initiate her into adolescence. Frankie is quite imaginative, and thinks that she is also very independent; however, McCullers, once again, captures the anguish and loneliness that marginalized figures endure. Rough, gangly, and bossy are all words that accurately describe the character of Frankie; she is different or, in the words of McCullers, quite “queer.” She receives male influence from her father, Jarvis, and John Henry, but, with the exception of Berenice, her life is void of any female guidance. In fact, she is chastised by the other girls because of her boyish appearance, and is forced to play with her cousin, John Henry. Frankie does not belong to any “group” like all of the other girls her age do.

Frankie’s need to belong to something else leads her to announce that she will be joining her brother, Jarvis, and his wife, Janice, as the third member of their wedding. Throughout the novella, McCullers toys with the “we of me” notion through the character of Frankie. When Frankie hears the other girls say “we” they are referring to their social group, or whenever the housekeeper, Berenice, says “we” she could be talking about the people at her church, Honey, or even African Americans as a whole. Frankie does not belong to any social group, nor does she identify with anyone based solely on her gender or skin color. She does, however, deeply love her brother, and quickly comes to admire Janice simply because her brother does. Therefore, Frankie constructs a world where she belongs to an actual group, but because of her age, she fails to realize what marriage entails: Jarvis is startling his own family—without Frankie.

Throughout McCullers’ work, Frankie fights boredom by conjuring up elaborate stories to keep her occupied. She not only pretends to give blood to help the troops, but she also pretends to join the army in order to fight the Nazis in WWII. Despite the chimerical scenarios that she comes up with, she also experiences treatment from men that help her to realize her own transformation from a girl to a young adult. In one scene a solider invites her to dance, but, later that night, attempts to rape her. Frankie, never the one to meet a stranger, agrees to go dancing with the solider because she delights in having someone take interest in her; however, that notion quickly dissolves when she realizes his deeper sexual motives. Another important scene is when Frankie’s father hurts her feelings by referring to her long legs, and asking her why she still wants to sleep in the same bed as him? Frankie is no longer the little innocent girl she used to be; she is growing up, and being pushed out of her comfort zone.

Frankie’s manner of speech and fanciful scenarios strike me as Gothic. She seems fascinated by blood, suffering, and war, and is also quick to threaten anyone by saying she will murder them if they don’t do whatever she says. Additionally, throughout the work, death claims the lives of three people in Frankie’s community: John Henry, Frankie’s uncle, and an unidentified African American man. The deaths remind Frankie of life’s fragility and also contribute to the evolution in her maturity by the end of the work.

Frankie’s inability to identify with any one group during her early adolescence has led many critics to argue that The Member of the Wedding is a lesbian coming-of-age story. I believe that this line of reasoning is viable; I do not, however, agree with those who try to apply the same theory to the character of Mick Kelly from The Heart is a Lonely Hunter. Whereas Mick is tomboyish and misunderstood, Frankie is utterly confused. If Frankie does harbor any homosexual feelings, she has no outlet or means to express them. Many examples can be listed to argue that Frankie is homosexual: her aversion to sexually promiscuous behavior with the strange solider, her references to a sexual encounter she had with a boy as a vile act, and her close associations with girls who offer their friendship to her. On the other hand, Frankie can be interpreted as a girl without any female influence, who is simply emulating the behavior of her father and brother: the two people she absolutely venerates. Although Frankie’s sexual orientation and gender can be viewed as forces that oppress her, Berenice manages to accurately describe her situation by stating “we all of us somehow caught.”

Reflections in a Golden Eye

Although Reflections in a Golden Eye, McCullers’ second novel, did not receive the acclaim that accompanied The Heart is a Lonely Hunter, it remains, in my eyes, one of her most daring works, and also perhaps her most Gothic. Both of McCullers' first two works contain some of the most simple, yet poetic-like phrasing that I have ever come across. However, it’s fascinating to note that both of these works were written in her early twenties. Her style can undoubtedly be attributed to her age, but not in a detrimental sense. McCullers’ writing style in two of her later novels, The Member of the Wedding and The Ballad of the Sad Café, is more mature—even more verbose compared with her earlier two works. However, her youthful insight of the world is absent, which, to me, is when McCullers is at her best.

Throughout the majority of Reflections in a Golden Eye, the novel focuses on the effects that love triangles have on people, especially the single member of the triad left out. However, the two people left out in this case, Captain Penderton and Allison Langdon, experience great revelations during this time of desertion that help them come to terms with their own identities. It almost seems that Captain Penderton and Allison are involved in a strange love square, since their spouses are having an affair with one another. However, without the annoyance of their respective mate, they are able to acknowledge the disgust of their own suffocating realities. The hushed nature of Robert’s affair leads Allison to understand that she can never trust the man she thought was her husband; whereas, Captain Penderton embraces the homosexual feelings he has towards a private he fixates upon, after a spiritual awakening he experiences during a near death encounter. But, most importantly, they both learn that they can be defined by something other than their spouse and what society dictates as normal, a revelation that in both cases comes too late.

Comparatively speaking, Reflections in a Golden Eye remains the most Gothic of McCullers’ works. McCullers not only uses two large officer houses as the primary setting for the novel, but also employs an adjacent forest, which provides the setting for Captain Penderton’s transformative horseback ride, as well as the cover for Private Williams to vicariously live through the two couples. Additionally, Private Williams is a voyeur who becomes enamored with Lenora Penderton’s body; he has never been in love, nor seen a woman’s naked body before Lenora. Every night, his actual presence in the forest creates a looming and suspenseful mood that spooks Allison and Captain Penderton: Allison peers out her window and thinks that Private Williams is an ghost or a figment of her imagination, and Captain Penderton continually experiences the sense of being watched. Allison Langdon is also plagued by madness due to her husbands betrayal, the death of her newborn daughter, her poor health, and her extreme hatred for everyone on the base, except Anacleto. Her derangement even leads her to cut off her breasts with gardening sheers. Although not all of the characters are grotesque in the physical sense, they are each repulsive in their actions and behavior. Furthermore, the theme of death also pervades the last section of the novel. Allison’s anxiety and frustration leads her to suffer a major heart attack, which eventually claims her life. Also, Private Williams’ deviant obsession leads him to break into the Penderton’s home and view Lenora in her room, an action that costs him his life at the hands of the man who holds deep-seated feelings of love for him, Captain Penderton.

McCullers portrays Allison Langdon and Captain Penderton as two characters that are oppressed mainly by sexual politics. The physical side of their relationships is not important to them—their spouses satisfy their sexual desires by entering into affairs with others—yet they rely on the sense of stability and normality that marriage possesses. It is clear to both characters that their mates are involved in an affair, which has been for going on for some time; however, they can neither confront their lover, nor end the marriage for varying reasons. A divorce for Allison is not a viable option because she has no money or skill; whereas, a divorce for Captain Penderton would mean loosing someone who has served as a cover to his repressed homosexuality. McCullers also investigates the oppression of “foreigners” through the character of Anacleto, a young Filipino houseboy. Anacleto endures a litany of verbal abuse at the hands of Major Langdon because of his feminine mannerisms; however, what is most striking is the lack of options that he possesses. As someone who is relatively new to the country, Anacleto relies solely on Allison for guidance. He is versed only in menial housekeeping tasks; everything else remains completely foreign to him.

The Heart is a Lonely Hunter

McCullers’ first novel, The Heart is a Lonely Hunter, represents a work that provides a wealth of insight into the lives of minority figures in the south. Published when McCullers was only twenty-two, her ability to capture the heartache and frustration of growing up “different” in the South is both bold and extremely compelling. The work is not only important because of McCullers’ age, but also because she portrays each minority group within the same humanity and respect as the characters of her own race. McCullers affinity for those who reside in the margins always strikes me when I read her works; it is necessary to note that her emphasis on these characters is largely autobiographical—there was not much average about Carson McCullers.

The novel follows a group of characters who are plagued by loneliness; they each feel cheated without the opportunity for recourse. However, most importantly, they are ostracized, in varying degrees, because of their attitudes, beliefs, and desires. However, each character takes solace in the deaf mute, John Singer, who, in many cases, is the first to offer each of these people any sort of attention. Consequently, John Singer becomes a savior figure for Mick, Jake, Dr. Copeland, and Biff. It is quite ironic that although all of the others constantly confide in Singer, he faces a great crisis of his own: the deteriorating mental state of his friend, Spiros Antanapolis, which is a problem that he cannot express to anyone.

The characters within the novel could not be more different in their circumstances; however, they are linked together by the fact that they have no voice in the world. Mick Kelly, a gangly tomboy, suffers from appearing atypical, coming-of-age, and having to choose between extending her childhood, or working in order to support her family. Dr. Copeland commits his entire life to providing medical care for the African American community, but he cannot seem to motivate his fellow African Americans to better themselves. However, in the eyes of the white community, he is still regarded as just another black. Additionally, Biff Brannon, the perpetual transient, tries, to no avail, to rally anit-capitialistic sentiment among the mill workers who, he believes, are slaves to capitalism. On the other hand, New York Café owner, Biff Brannon, tries to assert his maternal-like instincts, but has to make sure that he does not overstep his place and role in society as a man.

In addition to the elements of psychological repression previously mentioned, there are a variety of other Gothic elements throughout the novel. Mick’s rough manner of speech and quick-witted threats are of note; she shares this characteristic with another one of McCullers’ young female characters, Frankie Addams. Also, the Kelly’s house, which is quickly falling into disrepair, provides the setting for a large portion of the novel. However, violence also factors heavily into McCullers’ work. Bubber, Mick’s brother, freely wields a rifle around the neighborhood, which leads to the accidental shooting of Baby. Additionally, the amputation of Willie’s feet, and the suicide of John Singer represent other examples.

In The Heart is a Lonely Hunter, Carson McCullers portrays a great number of oppressed groups in the south: women, African Americans, homosexuals, poor whites, the disabled, and anti-capitalists. However, in terms of my research, I think that she provides great examples of marginalized African Americans and homosexuals. Although Dr. Copeland has given so much to his community and slowly built his relations with the white community, he is still black in the eyes of society, and no amount of education or refinement can change that. Dr. Copeland’s pride also functions as an oppressive force: he harbors ill feelings towards whites collectively because of the abuse and ridicule that the African American race has suffered over the years. Additionally, the relationship between John Singer and Spiros Antanapolis is hard to define. Although Spiros Antanapolis appears grotesque to many people, John Singer feels a highly platonic connection with him that he has never shared with anyone else. He become not only Antanapolis’ best friend, but also his caretaker. Their relationship is at times homoerotic, but it seems that Singer shares a higher spiritual connection with Antanopolis, regardless of whether Antanapolis possesses the ability to reciprocate.

The Glass Menagerie

The Glass Menagerie is described as a “memory play” by the narrator Tom Wingfield; however, in the case of the play’s vivacious matriarch, Amanda Wingfield, it is a drama about history repeating itself. Indeed, the themes of male imposed abandonment and alcoholism are all too familiar to the resolute Amanda. Yet, she is able to cope with her unfortunate circumstances, and remain optimistic in an extremely grim world. Amanda is surrounded by people who surrender to adversity, although she has tried—maybe, in some cases, a little too much—to prevent it from happening, especially to her own children.

Indeed, the most heart-wrenching moment in the play is when Amanda realizes that her daughter, Laura Wingfield, may not ever be able to rise above her shortcomings and function in the “real world”. Laura has never taken a chance in her life; instead she uses her disease, pleurosis, as an excuse for anything and everything, although she is only mildly affected by it. What is noteworthy, within the play, is that Laura does take a chance on love for the first time in her life. Despite the risk that she takes, not to mention the first kiss she shares with the young gentleman caller, she soon becomes reacquainted with heartbreak once he divulges to her that he’s actually going steady with another girl. It seems that Laura’s one great risk will also be her last; she is as fragile as her ornamental menageries, and, by the end of the play, completely broken, much like her favorite unicorn figurine.

Throughout his works, Tennessee Williams explores the effects that the changing times have on individuals, especially women. However, in The Glass Menagerie, all of the characters fail to understand their proper role in society. This theme becomes more pronounced when the men in the play abandon their family. Amanda is perpetually lost in the ideals of her southern belle adolescence; whereas, Laura does not possess the social aptitude to function beyond the comforts of her own home. Naturalistic factors are also an oppressive factor throughout the play. Laura is grotesque in the sense that she evokes empathy from others; her legs, although manageable to herself, attract unwanted attention. Because of Laura’s handicap, she believes that she will always be regarded as different, which is a line of reasoning that she uses as an excuse for hiding from society and living in her own little world.

A Streetcar Named Desire

Throughout A Streetcar Named Desire, Tennessee Williams toys with many different themes: appearance vs. reality, evolving gender roles, and, most importantly, misunderstanding. Although I have visited A Streetcar Named Desire many times, I came away from this reading with a sense that the conflict centered largely around misunderstanding. Blanche and Stanley come from two entirely different worlds, and they have conflicting expectations of societal norms. Blanche appears to be a demure southern belle; however, her personality is needy and abrasive. She expects to be treated like a lady, but her contrary behavior excites rage in Stanley. Conversely, Stanley is immodest, obnoxious, and domineering. As a second-generation polish immigrant, Stanley knows the value of hard work; a comfortable privileged life is extremely alien to him. Therefore, Blanche and Stanley clash from the beginning of the play.

However, Blanche possesses one of the most disturbed personalities in Southern Gothic literature. As previously mentioned, her appearance is very deceiving. Blanche is both self-centered and neurotic, and she manages to continually critique Stella’s life. However, whenever Blanche is questioned about anything, she not only becomes hysterical, but she is quick to point out that she stayed at Belle Reeve, stomaching the utter heart break of watching her fellow relatives die. The cost of death eventually cost her the estate leaving her alone. It’s at this point that Blanche turns to desire to fill the void of her past life that is forever gone. Blanche comes to be known for her sexual promiscuity with men, especially a certain young boy in her English class, which gets her fired. However, throughout the play, there are sexual undercurrents in her scenes with Stanley, Mitch, and the young delivery boy. Additionally important is her bizarre behavior: she continually contradicts herself, asks Stella to go get her a coke, and always manages to take an inordinate number of baths.

Violence is also quite pronounced throughout the play. Both Tennessee Williams—in the stage directions—and Blanche equate Stanley to a primitive beast. Indeed, Stanley has a tendency to act upon his animalistic reflexives, which is evident when he strikes Stella and later “rapes” Blanche. Stanley also seems most content when he is with the guys playing cards or bowling; he is naturally rough and is at home with those whom he can handle his tough persona. Stanley, to a certain extent, does not how know to behave in the company of women.

Blanche and Stella represent two women who are living in a nation where gender roles are evolving, yet they are still very uncertain of their power and responsibilities. Blanche desires the best of both worlds: she wants all men to act like true southern gentlemen with her; however, she also wants sexual freedom. When men realize that she is sexually permissive, they view her as “used”. Therefore, they feel as if see is simply a sexual object; she is not someone who you would enter into a relationship with. This point is illustrated when Mitch attempts to rape Blanche after he learns of her past. On the other hand, although Stella has made the evolution from privileged southern belle to devoted housewife, she still finds herself trapped in a world controlled by men. Stanley mistreats her, and, apart from sex, does not know how to relate to her. It is true that they have legitimate sexual feelings for one another, but does their relationship have much substance apart from that? Blanche claims that Stella and Stanley’s relationship is based solely on desire, and she argues that it is not a safe foundation for love. For once, I feel that Blanche is speaking the truth; however, it’s necessary to note that Stella realizes that, although flawed, Stanley is a provider and hard-working man, and that is what she needs in the world: a man who can take care of her.

Another important scene in the play is when Blanche describes her only true love. Blanche goes into a lengthy monologue where she recalls finding her young love in bed with another man. As a result of Blanche discovering his homosexuality, the young man commits suicide. The suicide of homosexuals unable to come to terms with their sexuality in an unsympathetic culture is a reoccurring theme in Tennessee Williams plays. Their collective suicides illustrate the suffocating and ostracizing world in which they live.

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

Mendacity, Mendacity, Mendacity. It appears that audacious lies pervade Cat on a Hot Tin Roof from Maggie and Brick's first scene until the final drop of the curtain. The host of characters feel that withholding the truth, at least for a while, is better then blatant, resounding honesty. Yet, they sentence themselves to torment by essentially legitimizing their fabrications, which is committing the biggest transgression of all: lying to yourself.

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof is also quite Gothic in a a number of ways. First of all, the manner in which the characters argue over the inheritance of the estate is extremely morbid and superficial, especially considering the fact that Big Daddy is suffering from terminal stomach cancer. Indeed, the family argues over land and represses Big Daddy's anxiety concerning his death by telling him that he is fine, although they really know that he does not have long to live. Gooper and Mae also have a very cut-throat relationship with Brick and Maggie. Brick's perpetual ambivalence towards everything leaves Maggie to defend their marriage against the psychological abuse accrued at the hands of Gooper and Mae. Also worth noting: the large antebellum plantation house provides the setting for the dark drama that ensues.

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof also provides a stunning example of homosexual repression in the south through the character of Brick. While its certain that Brick and Skipper’s relationship was homoerotic, it is harder to argue that their relationship was sexual. Brick’s love of Skipper could have been merely platonic, or he could have had sexual desires for Skipper that he never acted on because of his internalized homophobia. Regardless of his resistance to talk about his orientation, there is much evidence to suggest that he is homosexual: his inability to impregnate Maggie, Maggie’s revelation that on a double-date it was as if Brick and Skipper were actually on a date with one another, and Brick’s abuse of alcohol after Skipper’s suicide. What is also interesting is that most of the characters in the play know of Brick’s behavior, yet they are willing to look past it. Despite Maggie and Big Daddy voicing their acceptance, Brick still remains stoic and unwilling to talk about his relationship with Skipper; however, there are many reasons for this. He not only lives in the 1950’s, but also in the deep South. During this time, homosexuals had to live their lives behind closed doors; their lifestyle was taboo, and people certainly didn’t live “out” lives. Also, Brick is living in an overtly religious region of the country where homosexuality is viewed as an outlandish sin. Finally, Brick is afraid that society will see him as a degenerate. If he admitted that he had homosexual feelings, he would be marginalized as corrupt and amoral.

Absalom, Absalom!

"The past is not dead. In fact, it's not even past." Although this quote is pulled from one of Faulkner's other novels, it certainly proves true in Absalom, Absalom!. Throughout Absalom, Absalom!,  Faulkner examines memory and perspective by allowing various characters to recall their experiences with the Supten clan. Consequently, distortion, gossip, and speculation ensue making it difficult to parse out the facts, much less the truth. Each different perspective portrays the Sutpens in a new manner, and divulges details about their life, which allows the reader to delve deeper into their back story. Yet, the haunting legacy of the Sutpens still fascinates both the characters that are hearing of them for the first time, and those who have been personally effected.

In Absalom, Absalom!, Thomas Sutpen's allure is derived from not only his odd behavior, but also his mysterious background. He arrives as a foreigner; however, through time, he becomes one of the largest landowners in Mississippi. How? Well, this seems a hard question to answer because a large cloud of uncertainty surrounds him throughout the novel. If his initial appearance with a troupe of wild slaves does not provoke question, then the estate that pops up in two years surely does. Although it appears that Thomas Sutpen is up to some pretty shady business, that, too, is hard to prove. It is clear that Thomas Sutpen is motivated by his childhood; he was born to poor white laborers and saw, first hand, the type of life that awaited him. Where and when he got the plan for his dynasty is nebulous, but, throughout the work, Thomas Sutpen sees his grand design as proof of his own self-worth. He has no emotional concern for his family or human beings; instead, the duties as the architect of his dynasty are always the most important. In this way, it can be argued that Thomas Sutpen is a metaphor for the antebellum south.

In Absalom, Absalom!, there are also a myriad of Gothic elements woven into the story. Quentin becomes obsessed with Thomas Sutpen's past, and the accounts that he hears are akin to ghost stories, which is illustrated in the manner that he relates the tales to Shreve. However the novel is a ghost story without any actual ghosts; the description of the Sutpen's dark past is haunting enough. Additionally, the Sutpen estate goes through a transformation from a remarkable antebellum manor to a mansion that goes into disrepair, eventually becoming engulfed with flames. Gratuitous violence also factors heavily into the plot: slave fighting, the Civil War, Charles's murder, and Sutpen's murder. Also, the theme of madness is also explored through Mr. Coldfield starving himself, and Clytie burning the estate down upon seeing the ambulance on its way to Sutpen's Hundred. 

However, I find the attitudes toward women and African Americans especially interesting throughout the novel. In the case of Thomas Sutpen, he sees women as an accoutrement. He needs a wife in order to both uphold traditional societal standards and polish his image as a southern landowner. A wife and children are essential to his idyllic abstract design; therefore, when he rides into town to seek out Ellen Coldfield its as though he were coming into town just to pick up a part necessary to build his house. He does not take love into consideration at all; instead, their relationship is based on his need for a wife and children, especially a male heir. Thomas Sutpen's limited use for women is also illustrated in his interactions with Rosa Coldfield and Milly Jones. Although Rosa scoffs at Sutpen's sexual advances in order to try for a son, Milly becomes pregnant only to give birth to a girl, which infuriates Sutpen and leads to his own demise. However, in the character of Ellen Coldfield, Faulkner examines both the vulnerable and gullible nature of antebellum women. Although Ellen is terrified of marrying Thomas Sutpen, she slowly becomes enamored with her isolated life, and transforms into the quintessential wife that Thomas Sutpen originally envisioned. She blindly comes to love the life that her husband planned, not one that she originally wanted. 

Faulkner also emphasizes the distinct antebellum race boundaries through the character of Charles Bon. Although Henry Supten manages to look past incest, the revelation that Charles is part black warrants killing him. Charles's ancestry does not factor into the grand plan of Thomas, and Henry can not come to terms with having a brother that is also black. Charles case is interesting because he is only part black: light-skinned enough to "pass". However, as illustrated in the actions of Thomas and Henry Sutpen, the "one drop" rule applies to Charles; he has black blood, and, despite the ratio, he is viewed as an African American in their eyes. Their behavior illustrates that the white majority saw blacks are subordinate, unworthy, and even disposable.   

Sanctuary

Despite Faulkner's remark that Sanctuary was a pot-boiler, I believe that a fascinatingly bizarre crew of characters reside within the pages of the novel. The structure of the novel does not quite strike me as quintessentially Faulknerian; however, the juxtaposition of the privileged and the poor, the idealists with the sadists, and the upstanding with the foul makes for a work that explores two worlds: southern high-society and the prohibition-era criminal underworld. 

Although many of the characters in Sanctuary are grotesque in their appearance, the same also applies to their behavior. The lot of bootleggers at the Old Frenchmen place is comprised of a half-wit, a deaf-mute, a terror-driven cynic , and a congenital syphilis-ridden enigma. Indeed, Popeye emerges as the opposing "black" force throughout the novel; he is, after all, described by Tommy as "the skeeriest durn white man I ever see." However, Popeye is a hard character to understand, and, for that matter, characterize. He is an impotent rapist, a bootlegger who does not drink, and a criminal who still manages to visit mom. This draws attention to his role as the victimizer in Sanctuary. Throughout the novel, it seems that Popeye is not psychologically aware in regards to the magnitude of his actions. He knows that what he has committed warrants fleeing to another town for refuge; however, he does not understand, nor care, about the ripple of repercussions that follow his acts. Although Temple Drake is quickly led down a road of moral degradation, she has her own faults as well. Temple's affinity for excitement stems from her desire to break free of the over-protection that she has experienced her whole life. However, she has drastically misjudged her ability to reside in the company of men who live outside the bounds of polite society. 

The meaning of Sanctuary's title is also pertinent because it begs the question: do the characters within the novel ever truly find sanctuary? From the minute that Temple enters the Old Frenchmen place until the end of the novel, Temple is searching for sanctuary. Although she is portrayed in a French park during the last scene of the novel, the sanctuary is imposed. This is evident in her need to leave the South because--although she is viewed as the victim--her legacy is one of a broken woman, which does not coincide with her status that she previously held. However, there is the question of whether she was, to a certain extent, sexually permissive before she ever came in contact with Popeye. Although the writing in the boys bathroom alludes to this, Temple relishes in appearing experienced; she is "fast" only in her courtship, not her sexual desires. Popeye's entrance into her life marks the end of her feminine virginal sanctuary. Popeye's initial rape of Temple by corncob, her kidnapping, and the vicarious high that he receives by hiring Red to come and have sex with Temple all contribute to an intense evolution in her character.

Violence and terror are two themes that also resonate throughout the work. Sanctuary not only presents the murder of Tommy and the rape of Temple, but it also portrays the brutal lynch-mob death of Lee Goodwin, and the murder of Red. All of the characters within the novel come to fear Popeye and his capabilities, especially Goodwin and Temple. Temple tries to escape from Popeye, but she soon become cognizant that his ties and influence are deep and wide. This leads to her false testimony against Goodwin because she is intensely terrified of even the thought of accusing Popeye of the murder. Goodwin, also, possesses an overwhelming fear that Popeye will find a way to kill him--even in jail--if he brings his name into consideration. His trepidation hinders his defense, yet he maintains that his innocence will be proved without calling Popeye's name into question.

Sanctuary also presents a vivid example of the oppression of women throughout the novel, especially in the characters of Temple Drake and Ruby Lamar. The comparison of the two characters is interesting because they both hail from two entirely different worlds. As the daughter of a judge, Temple comes from a world of privilege. She is wealthy and educated; however, Temple grows tired of the world of decorum, chaperons, and tradition.  She is a character that is envious of male freedom. Temple loves the excitement of pushing the limit and the ability of choice, which leads her to associate with a variety of men her age for short periods of time. However, it seems that she desires men who are cut from the same cloth as her. The company of poor whites is foreign to her, and she succumbs to their rude behavior and indecent acts. Indeed, in this case, she ventures into something that is more than she can handle. Popeye views his relationship with Temple as strictly sexual, which is clearly illustrated in the way that he keeps her locked in a room until he experiences a sexual urge. He views her as a piece of property; she is an item that can provide gratification to him, nothing more. The only non-sexual interaction that Popeye has with women in the novel is with Miss Reba and his mother, who are two older matronly figures. Ruby Lamar suffers oppression in a distinctly different way compared to Temple. Ruby is the victim of her status not only as a woman, but also as a poor white. She has accrued the status of a harlot by many in town; however, with Temple's experience as a testament, the judgmental church women in town--like Narcissa--cannot easily fault Ruby for the life that has, in a sense, chosen her. Ruby is a marked women, and their are no options available to her outside of prostitution; therefore, she makes the most of her life by staying with her common-law husband, Goodwin. In both cases, the women lack the agency to change their situations due to their gender. Men see them for their sexual advantages, which, inevitably, leaves the women with a tarnished name and limited ambitions.  

Native Son

Native Son by Richard Wright is a unique novel--in relation to my research focus--because it weaves a criminal investigation, Depression era race relations, an ode to the Red scare, and Gothic elements together into one work that sheds great light on the psychological rationale of utterly poor African Americans. The first two parts of the novel, specifically, are of most interest to me since they contain a host of rich Gothic elements; the third part digresses into weighty courtroom rhetoric. However, Native Son, as the title suggests, centers on the actions of Bigger Thomas, who lives in the ghetto of Chicago during the thirties. Bigger, as the oldest male of a family without a patriarch, is expected to get a job in order to provide much needed income for his struggling family. However, its clear from the beginning that Bigger has his own plans in mind that usually involve personal gratification, rather than hard work. Bigger is frustrated with his ethnic identity, which leads to some dark behavior, on his part, throughout the novel. However, Bigger's main problem is that he does not know how to communicate with the white community. He knows that he is black; therefore, he thinks that whites will all view him as subordinate. He fails to understand the individuality of whites, especially the genuine kindness of the Daltons.

In terms of oppression, I think that in this novel its a two-way street: naturalistic forces certainly lead Bigger to suffocate Mary Dalton; however, Bigger also invites an excess of outcry from the public through his efforts to manipulate the investigation with the ransom note. Once Bigger realizes that he has been caught in Mary Dalton's bedroom, he knows that nothing good could come from the situation. He is black, and that is all the evidence that prosecutors need to charge him with rape. Therefore, when Mary begins to make noise, Bigger acts out of his own self-interest by smothering her with a pillow. He does not try to explain to Mrs. Dalton--who is blind--what has happened because Bigger knows that blacks and whites do not rationally work things out. However, through his actions, Bigger feels that he finally possesses his own sense of identity. No longer is he simply a young black man, instead he is the young black man that has committed the murder of Mary Dalton. Simply put: society regards him for something other than his race. 

In Native Son, the definition of minorities can also be expanded to included Communists and Jews. Indeed, this novel not only vividly describes the the discrimination that African Americans experience, but it also pays close attention to the negativity directed towards immigrants, who practice different customs and religions. Indeed, its interesting to ponder--especially in this novel-- whether African Americans or the Reds/Jews/Immigrants experience greater oppression from society? Although the Reds/Jews/Immigrants posed a undetectable visible threat to society, they could "pass." Conversely, African Americans were easy targets because of their skin color and detachment from white society.

In addition to the oppressive forces within the novel, there are also a myriad of Gothic symbols and elements that are also worth noting. Much of Bigger's psychological angst manifests in extremely dark behavior that transpires, primarily, in the first part of the work: he plans to rob a store, he masturbates in a theatre, he suffocates and decapitates Mary Dalton, and he mutilates the body of Bessie. Additionally, there are a variety of Gothic symbols throughout the novel as well: the rat that appears in the Thomas's apartment, Mrs. Dalton's white cat, the Dalton's furnace, the water tower that Bigger climbs, and Bigger's ransom note. The man-hunt of Bigger also struck me as particularly Gothic, and immediately reminded me of the man-hunt of the monster in Frankenstein. Indeed, Bigger is portrayed as a monster who satisfied his carnal desires and the disposed of his prey. The society that conditioned him to behave in this manner never took responsibility; however, they were quick to lame blame and sentence the perpetrator.     

Tobacco Road

Tobacco Road by Erskine Caldwell differs from the other novels that I have read so far; it represents the first quintessential Southern Gothic work of the summer. Indeed, with this novel, I have crossed into the nineteenth century, and, specifically, into the era of The Great Depression. First, let me take a second to marvel at Caldwell's writing. His clarity, honesty, and simplicity reminds me a lot of Carson McCullers; however, Caldwell's voice seems more mature; a bit more transportive. He captures the perpetual stagnation and aimless pursuits of poor whites in the south; a region that has yielded to industrialization and left the Lester family in the dust. The only other novel that I have read by Caldwell is Trouble in July, which presents an insightful look at race relations, but doesn't exactly develop in the Gothic tradition. However, Tobacco Road does.

The desolate and barren fields, obsolete tobacco route, and rickety sharecropping shack provides the decaying setting for the novel to unfold. It is interesting to note that the "house" the Lesters share burns down killing both the patriarch and matriarch of the family; an ode to "The Fall of the House of Usher." Additionally, Caldwell introduces physically grotesque characters who, in the same spirit of the bleak environment, represent haunting marginal sights for the audience: Sister Bessie's profound nostrils, Ellie Mae's cleft palate, and the Lester's collective emaciation.

The Lester family, specifically Jeeter Lester, seem to also be a tad insane. Jeeter's attachment to the agrarian lifestyle restrains him from transplanting his family to Augusta in order to find work in the mills. Instead, he clings to the notion that, one day, someone will provide him with the credit to purchase the bare necessities needed to turn a profit on his crop. This notion will never come to fruition because of the harsh economic times and because of the Lester's reputation. As a result of no income, his family is slowly starving to death, although they do receive an occasional cracker, sardine, and turnip. Their starvation causes them to loose control of their mental faculties; they become extremely cut-throat and savagely in their behavior. Thus, violence between the family members erupts in a survival of the fittest challenge where, usually, the women receive the leftover scraps from their male relatives. However, I must admit that the family brawl over the sack of turnips was ridiculously amusing.

Religious fanaticism also adds to the mild mental derangement of the Lesters. Jeeter is able to justify any vile deed—committed against family, friend, or foe— by simply repenting his actions to the Lord. He fears God, but when push comes to shove, he acts in his own best interest, not his family’s, and finds himself going through the motions: acknowledging his actions, repenting, and dreading the repercussions.

Tobacco Road, above all, provides fascinating accounts of oppression in regards to women. Caldwell portrays each of the Lester women as females who are perpetually trapped. They are virtually figure-heads: women who were bequeathed to suitors who desired to find a wife and start a family. This certainly proves true in Ada and Pearl’s case. Ada shows her marital dissatisfaction with Jeeter by refusing to speak to him for years. Jeeter expects her to bore his children, maintain the house, and follow his direction for the family. However, Ada remarks that she wants to go to Augusta, which illustrates her desire to escape the horror of Tobacco Road. It seems that Grandmother Lester shares the same story, and Pearl is destined to suffer the same fate. Jeeter is so broke that he is willing to exchange his thirteen-year-old daughter, Pearl, to Lov Bensey for food. Pearl is a child robbed of her innocence, and she shows her confusion by refusing to talk, acknowledge, or even look at her new husband. It is true that Lov shows more sympathy to Pearl than Jeeter ever did; however, he gradually becomes angered by Pearl’s lack of desire to consummate their marriage. Lov, the tactful problem-solver, eventually proposes tying her the bed in order to relieve his sexual frustration with her. Additionally, Grandmother Jeeter lives in a world in which she is nothing more than a neglected shadow. She is always in the background: living vicariously through her relatives; however, she is rarely acknowledged, and is eventually fatally hit by Sister Bessie’s car. Caldwell uses Grandmother Jeeter to illustrate how society disregards the elderly, although they have much to teach. However, on a broader note, Tobacco Road provides haunting portrayals of neglected women, who are, essentially, born into a stifling bondage, and fail to possess any means of escape.

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain represents a novel that contains a variety of Gothic attributes, although it is not often classified as Southern Gothic. Although Twain seems to be most venerated as the nineteenth century's greatest humorist, I would argue that his ability to weave realism, satire, and local color together classifies him as an author who contributed to the evolution between the Gothic of Poe and the Grotesque of O'Connor.

Although I have read The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn many times, I encountered something different during this subsequent reading. Both the picaresque fashion in which the novel unfolds and the coming of age aspect of the work always leaves an impression upon me; however, I was struck, this time, by the overall darkness of the novel. Twain's well-incorporated humor masks a good deal of the grim events that ensue, and, in effect, make the novel palatable. However, I believe that when many people think of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn they envision Huck embarking on a innocent and imaginative boyhood journey. Many fail to acknowledge the weighty themes of the novel.

Most notably, Twain incorporates a profuse amount of violence into the novel. Indeed, he seems to toy with the notion that young boys have a fascination with violent high-spirited pursuits, which always proves true whenever Tom Sawyer appears in the novel, especially in the latter third. Huck also possesses these sentiments, but they are mild compared to the times when the ever-reliable catalyst, Tom Sawyer, shows up: during Huck's voyage on the Mississippi River, his time away from Mr. Sawyer, he undergoes the most growth in character and does little to initiate any violent events. Huck does exhibit his obsession for violence is other ways, though. Huck's narration strikes me as very Gothic because of his affinity for violent events, blood, and gore. Although the brutal events that unfold seem to captivate Huck at first, the same does not hold true for Huck when he finds himself in the midst of the cross-fire. His youth, at first, and his maturity, later in the novel, can both be attributed to these feelings. Indeed, Huck, through his initiation, comes to understand the horror of violence, instead of the fanciful boyhood scenarios that he once dreamt of prior to his journey.

Additionally, I think that its of interest to point out the number of violent episodes that appear throughout the novel: Huck's kidnapping by Pap, Huck's attempt to fakes his death, the steamboat robbery, Pap's death, the Sherperdson and Grangerford Feud, the Sherburn-Boggs Incident, and Tom Sawyer's gunshot injury. This is by no means a master list; it simply points out the fact that violence is virtually ubiquitous throughout the novel.

Another aspect of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn that carries in the same vein of the Southern Gothic genre is the oppression of African Americans. Jim, the ever-fateful and dutiful slave, is depicted by Twain with the utmost humanity, while remaining honest in his portrayal of Jim's character as a black male in antebellum America. Through the character of Jim, Twain records the African American experience during this times period. Jim, beyond anything else, aspires to keep his family in tact. When he fears that he will be sold without his family, he flees North to secure his title as a freedman, recieve a job, and buy his family from the bonds of slavery. Jim is denied much because of his skin color; however, he stands to loose contact with his own immediate kin. Likewise, Jim faces the preconceptions of his vile and immoral character based on his status as a black male. Twain illustrates this point through the relationship between Huck and Jim at various stages throughout the work: the trash scene, the raft scene, and the "you can't pray a lie" scene. Huck comes to view Jim not as a black man, but as his best friend. Due to the trials that they face on the Mississippi River, Huck witnesses Jim's faithful loyalty in the most precarious of situations; thus, Huck is able to cast aside the naturalistic forces that taught him to subordinate African Americans. Instead, Huck comes to view Jim as a endearing companion, a father-figure, and a true friend.

Collected Stories, Edgar Allan Poe

Although Poe writes in the Romantic Gothic tradition, it is quite difficult to discuss American Gothic literature without acknowledging Poe. Thus, I payed close attention to his short fiction in an effort to derive certain quintessential Gothic elements that manifest throughout his works. For the sake of the blog, I will only focus on two: "The Fall of the House of Usher" and "The Tell-Tale Heart." 

Throughout Poe's writing, the fundamental themes of madness, moral degradation, violence, and decay evolve in a pronounced fashion. The plots of his short stories are not, by any means, chimerical; instead, Poe's fiction focuses on marginal scenarios that are well within the realm of hypothetical probability. 

Poe's attention to the psychological torment of his characters represents a nexus between each of the aforementioned short stories. In "The Tell-Tale Heart", the narrator suffers the repercussions of his actions psychologically through the unavoidable braying of his victim's beating heart, which continually grows in magnitude. Likewise, in "The Fall of the House of Usher" Roderick's hypochondria, hyersynthesia, and existence inside the Usher estate have contributed to his mental regression. Additionally, as evident in the title of the work, his mental illness is also hereditary. Even with the emergence of the narrator--Roderick's young boyhood friend--Roderick's anxious demeanor cannot be quelled. The narrator's tenure at the Usher estate also causes the narrator to become frighteningly agitated, and unreliable in his narration, illustrating the fact that both both the Usher estate and Roderick's blood-line have detrimental psychological effects on Roderick. 

Throughout the short stories, violence also represents another Gothic theme that is well-represented in Poe's fiction. In "The Tell-Tale Heart", the narrator chops up his victim's body and hides it under the boards of the floor. In "The Fall of the House of Usher" Madeline reappears, post-burial, in a trace-like state, and kills Roderick by falling upon him. The theme of death appears many times throughout Poe's Gothic works in varying forms: premeditated, crimes of passion, and purely random.  

The oppression of women also occurs quite often in Poe's works. As subordinates, who were bound to Victorian societal ideals, the desires and necessities of women were virtually ignored. Poe reinforces this point throughout his short stories through his inclusion of helpless young women who face various forms of strife. Madeline Usher is a prime example of such. Madeline suffers not only from mental illness, but also from catalepsy. When Roderick finds her in a catatonic state, he immediately makes arrangements for her to be buried in the family vault; he believes that she is dead. A basic medical examination would confirm that Madeline is in a catatonic state; however, his actions deem her as a disposable accessory. She appears dead; therefore, she must be dead. This attitude, typically, illustrates the attention that women received as a whole, especially during this time. 

Although most Gothic elements in Southern Gothic fiction are veiled in comparison with the Gothic tradition of Poe, many interesting parallels can be made between the two different Gothic styles.