Devin’s Blog

            Although Ruth may seem weak and completely reliant on men, she asserts her control in more discreet ways. Unlike Pilate, Ruth lives with an abusive husband, ceaselessly confined and restrained. Knowing that she cannot defy Macon with force, Ruth learns to remove him from power in small ways, displaying the minor independence she possesses.

            When Macon yells, “You by yourself ain’t nobody. You your daddy’s daughter!”, Ruth does not act insulted or defeated (Morrison 67). Instead she responds, “That’s so…I certainly am my daddy’s daughter”, indicating the calmness which she uses to anger her husband (67). Ruth makes this comment without the fear of consequences, her “steady voice” (67) and smile proving her confidence. Macon expects to hurt his subservient wife with words, and when he fails to do so, he must turn to violence to achieve this instead.

            Ruth describes Milkman as “her single triumph” (133), partly due to her ability and strength in keeping him alive. While she was pregnant, Macon detested the thought of another child and tried to make Ruth abort. Although he forced her to do certain things including the insertion of a knitting needle, Ruth disobeyed her husband by only inserting the tip, careful to not injure her unborn child. Even though Ruth and Pilate conspired together about ways to insure Milkman’s safety, they differed in their tactics. Pilate chose to scare her brother with a voodoo doll, an obvious act of resistance. Ruth, on the other hand, defied Macon as well but in a more secret and concealed manner (131-132).

“But there was nothing you could do with a mooring except acknowledge it, use it for the verification of some idea you wanted to keep alive…She felt him. His restraint, his courtesy, his indifference, all of which pushed her into fantasy” (13).

Again, Ruth experiences the dividing line between imagination and actuality. The “idea” Ruth has is only in her mind and does not exist in reality. Within her father’s “study” (13), a small, safe room that is, again, reference to a womb, Ruth takes part in this guilty pleasure because of her obsession with physical contact. Her past plays a large role in this, owing to the fact that her mother died when she was young. Losing that  strong bond with the woman who bore her stripped Ruth of natural affection and love. As a result, she desired attention from her only other parent figure, her father, and continued to stay connected to him even after his death.

“Now he saw her as a frail woman content to do tiny things; to grow and cultivate small life that would not hurt her if it died…In a way she was jealous of death. Inside all that grief she felt when the doctor died, there had been a bit of pique too, as though he had chosen a more interesting subject than life– a more provocative companion than she was– and had deliberately followed death when it beckoned” (64).

Dr. Foster’s death caused Ruth intense pain and heartache because of her attachment to him. As a result, she is unwilling to establish love with other “life” with personal meaning to her. Ruth is “jealous of death” because it took her father from her, feeling neglected and hurt. When he is dying, Ruth even holds on to him longer, more concerned with her dependence on him than his own happiness or desire.

“But there was nothing you could do with a mooring except acknowledge it, use it for the verification of some idea you wanted to keep alive…She felt him. His restraint, his courtesy, his indifference, all of which pushed her into fantasy” (13).

Again, Ruth experiences the dividing line between imagination and actuality. The “idea” Ruth has is only in her mind and does not exist in reality. Within her father’s “study” (13), a small, safe room that is, again, reference to a womb, Ruth takes part in this guilty pleasure because of her obsession with physical contact. Her past plays a large role in this, owing to the fact that her mother died when she was young. Losing that  strong bond with the woman who bore her stripped Ruth of natural affection and love. As a result, she desired attention from her only other parent figure, her father, and continued to stay connected to him even after his death.

“Now he saw her as a frail woman content to do tiny things; to grow and cultivate small life that would not hurt her if it died…In a way she was jealous of death. Inside all that grief she felt when the doctor died, there had been a bit of pique too, as though he had chosen a more interesting subject than life– a more provocative companion than she was– and had deliberately followed death when it beckoned” (64).

Dr. Foster’s death caused Ruth intense pain and heartache because of her attachment to him. As a result, she is unwilling to establish love with other “life” with personal meaning to her. Ruth is “jealous of death” because it took her father from her, feeling neglected and hurt. When he is dying, Ruth even holds on to him longer, more concerned with her dependence on him than his own happiness or desire.

“As she unfolded the white linen and let it billow over the fine mahogany table, she would look once more at the large water mark…she regarded it as a mooring, a checkpoint, some stable visual object that assured her that the world was still there; that this was life and not a dream…Even in the cave of sleep, without dreaming of it or thinking of it at all, she felt its presence” (Morrison 11).

Ruth uses this water mark to achieve stability and consistency in her unpredictable life. Because she cannot control or anticipate the way Macon treats her, Ruth feels restricted and lost. The stain on the table helps her cope with her lack of power in her marriage by always being there, a mark that cannot be erased or forgotten. The water mark connects Ruth to the memory of her father and the strong emotion she has for him. Although the mark remains on the table, the vase with flowers no longer covers it, representing the absence of her past and her longing to recreate her old feelings.

A main theme in Song of Solomon is the comparison of fantasy and reality. Ruth sits on the edge of these two existences, trapped in a state of magical realism. The “cave of sleep” that Morrison mentions resembles Ruth’s womb, which has special meaning for her as a woman completely reliant on her own body for contentment. Just as her womb is a part of her, the water mark is as well.

“Macon Dead never knew how it came about—how his only son acquired the nickname that stuck in spit of his own refusal to use it or acknowledge it. It was a matter that concerned him a good deal, for the giving of names in his family was always surrounded by what he believed to be monumental foolishness. No one mentioned to him the incident out of which the nickname grew because he was a difficult man to approach—a hard man, with a manner so cool it discouraged casual or spontaneous conversation” (Morrison 15).

“During the day they were reassuring to see; now they did not seem to belong to him at all—in fact he felt as though the houses were in league with one another to make him feel like the outsider, the propertyless, landless wanderer. It was this feeling of loneliness that made him decide to take a shortcut back to Not Doctor Street…” (27).

“Let me tell you right now the one important thing you’ll ever need to know: Own things. And let the things you own own other things. Then you’ll own yourself and other people too” (55).

            Macon Dead, Jr. is a man of control, who not only succeeds superficially by asserting power over others, but also lives by it. When his son is nicknamed “Milkman,” Macon is shocked that the name sticks even when he doesn’t approve of it. Accompanied by his selfish attitude, Dead is ashamed of this mark on his family but still tries to remain naïve as to its existence. He purposefully is a “difficult” and “hard” man so that he is not forced to become aware of his son’s disgraceful nickname.

            Macon rarely considers others’ feelings as he is solely concerned with wealth. However, while observing his property in the town, Macon Dead realizes that not even his successful business can satisfy or gratify him. No longer “reassuring,” the houses become threatening at night, exposing Macon’s greatest fear—desertion. Because of the disconnection he feels with his wife and children, Dead has relied on his property to comfort him. However, Macon discovers that no matter the value of his wealth, no object can repair “this feeling of loneliness.”

            Back in the daylight, Macon quickly resumes his confident and manly appearance by advising Milkman to use power in order to achieve happiness. Dead claims that owning other people is rewarding and “the one important thing you’ll ever need to know.” It is difficult to believe him, though, after witnessing his confession of discontent with his life only a few days before.

For as long as I can remember, my strongest desire has been for control—over my feelings, over my actions, and over my life in its entirity.

            Growing up, I witnessed the ups and downs in my parents’ marriage and dreaded the power sturggle that eventually drove them apart. With my dad working from 6 a.m. to 7 or 8 p.m., my mom and I built a strong relationship by means of school trips and projects, early dinners, and the occasional hour of television that Papa never knew about. Although I didn’t see the lack of control she had over he situation as a mom and wife at the time, it was clear that tension had begun to linger about the walls of our home. My mom lost her independence after taking those vows, now feeling trapped under a man she no longer loved. Even at twelve years old, I advised Mom to talk to Papa about her feelings of lonliness, disappointment, and despair, but instead, she closed herself off from him, hoping that that would numb the pain. My parents’ marriage was one huge lie in which no one expressed feelings or displayed emotion. Everything was just “OK” all the time but nothing more or less. Because of my admiration of my mother, I adopted her coping mechanism of silence, all the while fearing a loss of control over my feelings. By keeping them suppressed, I felt empowered in believing that I could take care of myself instead of relying on another person who could hurt me like my dad hurt my mom. I guess I’ve been struggling with that ever since. Opening up to people is hard for me and trusting them is even harder.

Yes or no?

It’s now or never.

Make a choice.

I sit.

Perched on an old rocking chair,

thinking.

As I slowly sway up and back,

I compare my life to an amusement park ride.

A ride with sudden stops and starts,

Climbs and drops,

An end and a beginning.

I notice immediately the colored photos

Perfectly placed on the cluttered bookshelf.

I never notice them, but today, I do.

They call out to me,
“Here was your past.

You know of your present.

How about your future?”,

Tirelessly pressing against my mind

And the turning wheels within it.

I reflect on the day—

The sky, the scenes,

My life.

As I pick apart the hours,

Like a vulture feasting on a dried carcass,

I analyze the people, the events,

My actions, my thoughts

Over and over

Again and again.

An answer just a step beyond the place I currently stand.

Will I get there?

Or will I be faced with reality—

Never quite reaching the star—

My star—which circles the heavens

Infinitely.

Infinitely unreachable.

Yes or no?

How will I know?

“This was untrue. I am not even faintly like a rose. She was only extemporizing, but a stirring warmth flowed from her, as if her heart was trying to come out to you concealed in one of those breathless, thrilling words. Then suddenly she threw her napkin on the table and excused herself and went into the house” (14)

Throughout The Great Gatsby, Nick attempts to maintain a separated position from the other characters, serving as an observer of their actions. However, Nick is unable to remain impartial to Daisy, his cousin, whom he respects and defends continuously. The “stirring warmth” which Daisy emits displays an unnaturalness in her persona and the perception of something hidden within her. Even though Daisy makes an absurd and superficial remark comparing Nick to a rose, he overlooks her silly, attention-seeking behavior because he refuses to think ill of a member of his family, especially one with such immense vitality and charm. The words, “as if”, illustrate a degree of doubt in Nick’s opinion of Daisy and his incapability to fully categorize her as he has the other individuals who live among East and West Egg. Additionally, instead of revealing her heart, Nick seems to think that Daisy “conceal[s]” it, proving his assumption that Daisy herself hides behind a mask in order to feel accepted in the society. Yet, this mask is not very strong for it permits Daisy to act out of character by throwing her napkin on the dining table. By using the adverb, “suddenly” to give further meaning to her actions, Nick justifies her behavior by labeling it as truly emotional, irrepressible, and impulsive. Conclusively, Nick defends Daisy and, therefore, compromises his clarity and judgement.

            I’ve come to find recently that I truly enjoy meeting new people and experiencing new things, even if others find such activities unsettling or uncomfortable. Although I often seem a bit reserved, the past couple of weeks have brought out another side of me, full of sociability and confidence. I have nearly abandoned the shyness that used to hold me back from countless opportunities for growth and have been fully embracing a more contented me.

            I don’t know how it happened exactly. I think that the numerous pressures in academics as well as athletics have pushed me to find an outlet for my stress. Instead of dumping my anxiety on my school friends, I thought about other ways that I could feel better without weighing anyone else down. As I started to get to know different people, I realized that that in itself was relaxing and useful in achieving a better state of mind.

            Not only have recent events lifted my spirits, but they have also helped me in having more fun and enjoying what little free time I have. As opposed to my previous life—school, sports, homework, studying, sports, sleep—I now understand the importance of participating in events and activities that I want to be doing, not the ones which I am forced to do. High school and even life are too short. It’s simply not healthy to go through the motions or make up lies in order to feel better as both of these coping mechanisms are not enough to fix an unwanted situation or even improve it in the long term.

             I hope that I can continue traveling down this seemingly good road and get a little farther with each step in reaching my destination.

Rough, shaggy, red grass and

Broken, grassy clay cliffs

Trampled hard and bare.

Cold and utter darkness.

“It ain’t my prairie.”

Winter, a wild thing,

Made them defenseless,

Unprotected like living under a tyranny.

Nothing but land.

Winter—

Bleak and desolate,

Daring and challenging,

Sly and suspicious,

Narrow and dark.

An interminable journey

Like the light of truth itself.

Secrets—

A hunger for colour,

A craving for happiness.

I felt erased, blotted out.

So full of sadness and old misery.

Bitter, starlit nights,

The burning taste of fresh snow,

A strange, unnatural sort of day

That hangs on until it is stale and shabby,

Old and sullen.