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.