The Underbelly of the South?

The South is repeatedly portrayed as a beautiful, dream-like utopia; where everything runs like clockwork. The days are lazed away under an ever-shining sun, with everyone gracefully taking their place. But Dorothy Allison chooses to expose the parts of the South that are hidden; the shameful secrets that writers often allow to remain undisturbed.

Allison uses “Bastard Out of Carolina” to explore some darker themes that could easily be exposed against any backdrop, but by using the South as her setting, she paints a much more vivid picture. And although this book is extremely hard to read at times, I appreciate Allison’s writing for the way it has opened my eyes to the reality of other people’s hardships.

The hardest part of the story for me to handle, and I am sure most people would agree, is the physical, sexual, and emotional abuse that Bone is forced to suffer through. Trying to make sense of this crime that is absolutely senseless is torture. How can any human being believe that treating another human, especially one so much weaker and innocent, in such a cruel fashion is acceptable? And what could drive someone to such madness? Sure, abuse can run from generation to generation, and Glen was clearly emotionally scarred by his father, but that does not provide him any excuse.

Trying to reason through this and not become angry and sick, I had to allow myself to become more open to what Allison might be trying to say through Bone’s story. I have to admit, at first I was disturbed and was questioning why we were reading this book. But as I have delved into the book and spent time discussing it and mulling it over in my mind; I have come to appreciate it. If no one ever wrote or spoke of the atrocities that took place in the world, how could we ever work towards justice? Knowledge is power.

But the abuse that takes place in this book is not the only thing that bursts the bubble of the ideal South; Allison also spends a lot of time focusing on the family dynamics that exist in a number of different instances. She primarily uses the Boatwright family to show that all families do not have wide white porches, upon which dainty ladies sip lemonade and men proudly survey their land. Instead, she shows how this family has to struggle to get by; to pay their rent, to feed their children, and to keep a steady job. She shows how the family isn’t always “lovey-dovey,” but rather they fight, and cuss, and drink. But Allison makes it a point to show that despite these downfalls in the Boatwright family, they are still a family, and as such, they still care about each other and they always are looking out for each other.

In contrast to the Boatwright’s, Allison uses the Waddell family. By all outside appearances, this family would seem to be living the Southern dream; they have their own family business, a beautiful house to call home, and all the trimmings that come along with these prize possessions. But, they are not happy. The father cannot show love to his son, Glen, despite all Glen’s hard work to gain his approval, the family doesn’t accept Anney and her girls into their family, and they are entirely too judgmental for their own good. Although they may appear to have things together, they are merely keeping up a façade that is quickly becoming destructive.

I think by choosing to tackle the socially taboo issues of abuse and family, Allison helps to deconstruct the myth of the South, and really, the world as a whole. She exposes the reader to the atrocities of child abuse, shattering people’s innocence, or ignorance in some cases, and bringing them into reality. And I think she provides the reader with an image of two very different families to show that what they may believe is reality, is just a pleasant fiction. I think Allison shows that although some families may appear to be a mess of “white trash,” they may really have a much better family dynamic than the family that is sitting pretty behind their white picket fences. And that is why I really have come to appreciate Allison’s work; it may be hard to swallow, but it contains truths, and for that, I cannot be anything but grateful.

The South’s Rape of Bone

“And there I was—certified a bastard by the state of South Carolina” – Bone


From the very first chapter of this book, I felt a deep compassion for Bone and her Mama stirred up within me. I could not imagine living my life under a label that was so socially unacceptable.

As I continued to read about Bone, I could not help but draw a comparison to Scout from “To Kill a Mockingbird.” Both of them are definitely the antithesis to the “Southern belle.” They are not described as being beautiful or ladylike, they like to be with the boys, they are being raised in single-parent homes, they have masculine sounding nicknames, and they apparently don’t care about their appearance. But as the story progressed, I began to see subtle differences. Bone, I felt, wanted to be a girl; she wanted to fit in a little more than she did. Repeatedly she says how she doesn’t look like anyone in her family. You can see through these moments that Bone really isn’t completely satisfied with who she is. And this only made me feel more compassion for her.

I felt that the label that South Carolina put on her as a “bastard” was the initial rape of Bone. By labeling her as such, it would be virtually impossible for her to ever fit the title of “Southern belle.” She was not conceived in an accepted way, which tainted her; taking away from her “virginal” and innocent quality. And how is a young girl supposed to overcome that? How can a child even process that? Her innocence was stolen.

By the South expecting woman to always fall under the guidelines of being a belle, Bone was again left to be ravaged by society. She had dark hair and dark eyes, she wore men’s clothing, and she didn’t have a proper upbringing. She did not fit the mold for what society expected out of a woman, and therefore, she was raped yet again by the South.

The last and most obvious way that Bone was raped was by Glen. This was the most disturbing scene to me and I was even more horrified because I saw it coming all along and I wished so badly I could warn Mama and have her listen to me. This was a senseless and destructive act, and poor, guiltless Bone was forced to suffer through it.

For me, these rapes of Bone were such a sharp and disturbing contrast to the way the South is described at the being of chapter two. The passage begins:

“Greenville, South Carolina, in 1955 was the most beautiful place in the world. Black walnut trees dropped their green-black fuzzy bulbs on Aunt Ruth’s matted lawn, past where their knotty roots rose up out of the ground like the elbows and knees of dirty children suntanned dark and covered with scars” (17).

She paints this picture that doesn’t match up with reality. And that made the story even more heart-breaking. I hope that as things progress, Bone will become stronger and rise above all of the atrocities she has been put through … But I do not know how that could possibly happen.

The Past for Our Pleasure?

I have to admit, I really did not understand the James Dickey poems we had to read. I enjoy poetry; especially works by Robert Frost, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, and Ralph Waldo Emerson, but I just could not get my head around what Dickey was saying.

A couple of the first poems seemed to have a strong spiritual undercurrent, as in “Sleeping Out at Easter” and “Walking on Water.” But then I found myself slightly lost between the topics of animals, death, and forbidden love. I was fairly confused by all of the poems, and found myself with questions about nearly all of them. But the poem that really caught my attention was “Hunting Civil War Relics at Nimblewill Creek.”

This poem tells the story of two brothers who go searching for a battlefield in hopes of finding buried treasure. It is seen through the eyes of the brother who seems to be the side-kick; he is not privileged enough to use the mine detector or listen in on the earphones. Instead, he must lug the shovel and pick around, waiting for his brother’s signal. And while the treasure hungry brother seems to be enjoying this journey in terms of what he has to gain, the narrator seems to be experiencing things on a much deeper level.

There are two passages that I felt betrayed the narrator’s innermost feelings. The first one says:

Softly he wanders, parting
The grass with a dreaming hand.
No dead cry takes root
In his clapped ears
Or can be seen in his smile.
But underfoot I feel
The dead regroup,
The burst metals all in place,
The battle lines be drawn
Anew to include us
In Nimblewill,
And I carry the shovel and pick

Clearly, the narrator is much more in tune with the world around him and the history behind him. He is not taking this adventure lightly. He is feeling it deeply, allowing things to come alive in his mind about what happened on this field in the past.

The second passage, I think, shows the narrators true feelings even more clearly. He says

I choke the handle
Of the pick, and fall to my knees
To dig wherever he points,
To bring up mess tin or bullet,
To go underground
Still singing, myself,
Without a sound,
Like a man who renounces war,
Or one who shall lift up the past,
Not breathing “Father,”
At Nimblewill,
But saying, “Fathers! Fathers!”

I think this passage really makes the poem. It is emotionally charged and beautifully written. It made me experience what I believe the narrator must have been feeling … the realization of the awful deaths that took place, the great loss that people experienced. And now here he was with his brother, not honoring the past, but rather, simply stealing from it to gain some pleasure. How completely tragic.

Do You Want the Movie Version or the Truth?

In the film adaptation of “A Streetcar Named Desire” there were a few minor changes to Tennessee Williams’ original play, but nothing too major. That is, until you get to the very last scene. All of the other changes I understood to a point; this was a racy play, and some adjustments had to be made in order for it to be presented to a larger audience. And these changes were made in a way that, ultimately, they did not take away from the larger picture that Williams’ was trying to get across. But I could not get over how the ending was changed. To me, this seemed to take away the very point of everything that Williams’ writing had been about and by making such a drastic change to the ending, the very reasoning behind all of the moves made by each character seemed to be taken away.

In Williams’ original script, the story ends with Stella choosing to live in denial of her husband’s infidelity and even worse, his gross mistreatment, and ultimate rape, of Blanche. By the conclusion of the story, the reader is left pondering why Stella ever fell for Stanley, and yet, understanding that all the steps she had taken in her life led her to this final decision to choose Stanley over Blanche. It is an unbelievably sad ending, but one that, in the context of events, the reader sadly understands. Stella’s decisions are being guided by society’s voice which tells her she cannot leave Stanley, or she will be financially unstable and will be unable to care for their child; she must instead “keep on going,” as Eunice tells her (686). She is also being controlled by the lust and love that she shares with Stanley. She is so infatuated with him, that she is able to overlook all of his faults as long as he beckons her to their bed at the end of the day.

But in the movie, everything ends with Stella still sending Blanche away, but then turning around and running out with her baby saying she will never go back to Stanley again. I was completely shocked. To me, this ending did not add up at all! Why on earth would Stella send Blanche away to a mental institute if she was going to leave Stanley anyway? If she wasn’t with Stanley, she could believe Blanche and seek help for her in a different setting than simply shipping her off to a mental institute. And why would she suddenly have such a change of heart concerning her dreadful husband? Now she would have no one in the world to help her get through life—no husband, no family, just a baby to raise on her own!

Although I understand that the ending may have been changed to once again keep the “scandalous” moments of the movie down to a minimum, this is one change that I do not think is acceptable if it is going to maintain the title of “A Streetcar Named Desire.” In my mind, this ending changed the very essence of the movie. And I was sincerely disappointed.

Life, Love, and other Miseries?

“Man is a knot into which relationships are tied.” ~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Flight to Arras, 1942, translated from French by Lewis Galantière



In the play “A Streetcar Named Desire” by Tennessee Williams, the characters all seem to be driven by their relationships with each other and society. But the sad thing is, that none of them seem to know how to create positive relationships; they are all ruled by intimidation, lust, fear, or misunderstanding.

The most obvious example of this is the relationship between Stella and Stanley. With a scream and a show of violence, Stanley is able to both control and thrill Stella; resulting in her continually throwing herself into his arms. Clearly, this is not the healthiest relationship. In Scene Three “The Poker Night,” Stanley becomes drunk and hits Stella. Initially, Stella is very upset and runs out of the house. But Stanley doesn’t have to do much to bring her crawling back to him. With a few violent screams from Stanley, Stella and Stanley come back together “with low, animal moans” (653). This scene does not illustrate a loving relationship to me. It instead portrays a relationship built on lust. If Stanley truly loved and understood Stella, would he have ever beaten her? And if their relationship was built on more than lust, wouldn’t they be communicating with each other in ways that weren’t merely sexual?

Another key relationship in this play is the relationship between Blanche and Stella. Here they are sisters, one of the closest bonds in nature, and they seem to not know a thing about each other. Stella doesn’t know all about Blanche’s risqué past and Blanche doesn’t even know where Stella lives, or more importantly, how she lives! All of their dialogue seems to revolve around Stella trying to soothe Blanche and Blanche trying to rile up Stella. They do not communicate on a deeper level. Blanche is so self-centered and caught up in her life and lies, that she never even allows Stella to speak anything genuine. One of the greatest examples I found of this was in Scene One:

Blanche [looking down at her glass, which shakes in her hand]: You’re all I’ve got in the world, and you’re not glad to see me!
Stella [sincerely]: Why, Blanche, you know that’s not true.
Blanche: No?—I’d forgotten how quiet you were.
Stella: You never did give me a chance to say much, Blanche. So I just got in the habit of being quiet around you.
Blanche [vaguely]: A good habit to get into … [then, abruptly] You haven’t asked me how I happened to get away from the school before the spring term ended. (635)

In this scene, you can see how Blanche is constantly seeking affirmation and love, while continually shutting her sister out. The moment Stella tries to speak up about how she has felt in their relationship, Blanche simply laughs it off and changes the subject back to herself. I cannot imagine being in a relationship, especially one with my sister, where it was constantly about her—making her feel good and loved and supported, while I simply played doctor, never having my wounds and needs addressed.

In this play, the poetic words of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry sadly ring a horrible tune. These characters lives have become tangled and ruined by the relationships they find themselves in and, it appears that none of them can find a way to get out of the twisted mess they are left with.

In the Pursuit Of ...

“Here was peace. She pulled in her horizon like a great fish-net. Pulled it from around the waist of the world and draped it over her shoulder. So much of life in its meshes! She called in her soul to come and see” (193).


After finishing “Their Eyes Were Watching God” by Zora Neale Hurston, I found myself deeply disappointed. I felt like Hurston’s poetic and beautiful beginning had failed to bring us to such an end. In a way, I felt similar to how I did after completing Douglass’ biography; like the whole story was building up to a central point, but upon reaching it, the author did not bring us into her realm of knowledge, but instead only gave us a fleeting glimpse. I wanted to hear, feel, and see that Janie had finally found what she was looking for! I wanted to believe that her lifelong search had finally led her to a place of peace and happiness. I wanted it so badly. Instead, I felt as though I was left to walk away with a bittersweet taste in my mouth; content with the fact that the lines read that Janie was happy, but they did not illustrate it.

We were supposed to believe that Janie went through these life changing experiences (she went through a devastating hurricane and had to shoot her one true love in the span of, at most, a few weeks!) and had somehow come out happy and satisfied. We were supposed to believe that she was now content to live with her now fairly empty life, and all with a carefree attitude. I was not convinced.

The first half of Hurston’s novel explores the deepest realms of Janie’s heart; her curiosity about life and love, her desire to live a life in synch with nature’s rich symphony, and her ultimate longing to reach the horizon. Hurston builds up in our minds this character that is desperately in pursuit of a dream. But by the time you are a third of the way from finishing the novel, you begin to pick up on the subtle changes that are weaving there way into Janie’s story.

The biggest overall change I noticed was that Hurston was no longer taking the time to use poetic imagery to create in our minds an actual sense of all that was happening in Janie’s life; instead she seemed to brush through things in a pretty straightforward manner. I so enjoyed dissecting Hurston’s beautiful, and sometimes confusing, lines in the beginning of the novel, so I could not help but be let down by this change. In addition to this, it was impossible to ignore changes in the main characters of Tea Cake and even Janie herself.

When we are first introduced to Tea Cake, we see him as the antithesis of all the other men in Janie’s life; he is fun, loving, and treats her more like an equal, rather than a showpiece. He seems like the most caring man, that would not dream of wronging Janie in any way, shape, or form. But then out of nowhere, we find him flirting with a random girl in a field and slapping Janie around! This seems in direct conflict with all we have come to know about Tea Cake.

Then there are the changes in the way Hurston portrays Janie. Gone is the dreamer, constantly looking towards the horizon. Janie becomes a two-dimensional character, who just barely fleshes out the spirit we have grown to know.

In finally concluding the novel, I was simply left wondering why Hurston would make such dramatic shifts. So I picked up the novel again a few days later and reread portions that I was confused about. And I think that the thing that I have concluded is that perhaps, Hurston was using these changes in her style of writing and descriptions of characters to further develop the changes that Janie’s life took throughout the course of events in the novel. In the beginning, Janie was a young girl, full of thoughts and hopes and dreams. But as she grew and actually experienced life, perhaps she realized that her initial dreams were not what she really wanted from life. Perhaps she found that the pear tree and the bees’ music was not the entire symphony, but rather it was just a part of the orchestra that had to play in harmony with the rest of the music that nature contributed in order to create a masterpiece. And upon that note, I find some measure of solace.

The Perversion of Love

“Now, women forget all those things they don’t want to remember, and remember everything they don’t want to forget. The dream is the truth. Then they act and do things accordingly” (1).


The dream is the truth. As I was reading the first five chapters in “Their Eyes Were Watching God” by Zora Neale Hurston, I kept coming back to this line. For such a small, ambiguous opening, I felt it held some serious weight in the context of Janie’s life story and her unending search for love.

At the innocent age of sixteen, Janie’s eyes, and more importantly her heart, became awakened to the lure of love. As she was sitting under a pear tree, watching it blossom and burst forth, beckoning the bees to come to her, she observed, “So this was a marriage!” (11). To Janie, this beautiful song and dance between the female tree and the male bees, created a perfect harmony; it was the very essence of love. And in her mind, there was no other way for love to be; it was a captivating, sweeping romance. It was a beautiful symphony, with all of the natural beauty of the world sweetly playing its strings.

With all of this unassuming grandeur built up in her mind, Janie found herself being swept away in the music. The bees and the trees were calling to each other, and she felt herself being summoned by some unknown. The trees were the answer for the bees; who was she an answer to? This was the beginning of Janie’s truth coming alive. This dream of how love must be stirred up so powerfully in her mind and her heart that it became her truth. And ultimately, led her to the unhappy life she leads.

Quickly after coming to this revelation of love, Janie finds herself awakened to be living in a nightmare. Janie innocently gives in to her infatuation with love and kisses a boy that is passing by. But what she saw as part of the symphony of love, her Nanny saw as the beginning of a dangerous cycle of lust. Nanny concludes that the only way to avoid this pitfall is to marry Janie off to an older, wealthy man. Janie puts up a fight, but ultimately does as Nanny wishes, even though she does not love Logan Killicks, her intended.

When Janie enters the marriage, she is still clinging to her dream of the pear tree and the bees; hoping that soon she will partake of the grand song and dance. When she does not, she finds herself completely confused. Where is the love that she dreams of? This marriage is not love; this is not her truth. And so eventually, she acts accordingly. Janie leaves Logan behind to marry a man who seems to be promising her a life full of magic and music; a life where she can blossom under his love.

But by the end of chapter five, already this romance is going stale for Janie. She is still caught up in her dream of what love is. And we see clearly, that this is no longer merely a dream for Janie. It is her truth. And she will not be happy unit she has found what her heart has told her head is true love. So far, all she has found is disillusionment with a perverted sort of love, where the air is stale and silent, shutting out all sounds of music and blocking the sun, leaving her a withered blossom begging for life.