Human Connection: No Matter How Small

The character of grandmother in “A Good Man is Hard to Find” evolves throughout the story. She is the only character who seems to represent a general character of “goodness” in the story. It is true that she is selfish and is responsible for the murder of her family and herself; however, she is the only character in the story that can make a small impact on the actions of The Misfit. This is starkly contrasted by Bailey and his family, who give all kinds of hints towards their being spoiled and impatient. The family drags grandma along even though it is clear she is unwelcome. June Star, her own grandmother retorts, “She wouldn’t stay home for a million bucks . . . [s]he has to go everywhere we go.” We never truly found out how her family feels about grandma, and unfortunately we never get the chance to find out.
The almost terrifying irony of the stories conclusion, transforms grandma’s character from one of “goodness,” to one of crazy foolishness. In the stories first paragraph, grandmother pleads with Bailey to go to Tennessee instead of Florida, “. . . this fellow who calls himself The Misfit is aloose from the Federal Pen and headed toward Florida . . . I wouldn’t take my children in any direction with a criminal like that aloose in it.” Sadly, this is exactly what grandma does to her children and her grandchildren. This is the event in the story where we loose all respect for grandma, she is a completely unhinged annoyance to all.
Then something happens between grandma and The Misfit, they begin to talk. It is obvious that grandma’s hope in talking to The Misfit is to save her own life, even though all whom she cares about are dead. After hearing about her killer’s childhood and family a connection seems to grow between the two. Not anything great, only a spark that possibly ignites in The Misfit thoughts that he had been trying all of his life not to have. “His voice seemed about to crack and the grandmother’s head cleared for an instant. She saw the man’s face twisted close to her own as if he were going to cry . . . .” This view inside grandmother’s connects the reader with The Misfits own sense of hesitation and emotion. Even though, grandmother seems to be getting to him, the grandma still end up dead and The Misfit still continues killing.
Along with Flannery O’ Connor’s commentary on just grandma, she could also be making commentary on humankind in general. Red Sammy, at first glance an inconsequential character, plainly states that, “[a] good man is hard to find . . . [e]verything is getting terrible.” By having the bad guy win and the good, or at least somewhat moral, characters die perhaps O’Conner want to tell readers that there is no hope for the future of man. That horrible things will happen and that horrible people will be born with the evolution of humankind; and that no matter how big or small the spark or connection between two humans it is not enough to change decisions and their outcomes.

Dee Always Had A Style of Her Own

Maude LaBelle

AP English-1

791

Dee Always Had A Style of Her Own

The most apparent theme in Everyday Use is the narrator’s perception of her daughter, Dee. Memories of Dee as a child, a teenager, and a young adult are woven into the story, building up to the physical arrival of Dee at her mother’s house. All of Dee’s actions in youth, towards her sister and mother drip of embarrassment and condescension, which we easily see through her mother’s eyes. We end up knowing Dee before we even meet her. The adult Dee, whom we meet in the end of the story, is no one but the same young girl dressed in new clothes, bearing a new name. What makes this short story particularly captivating to me, is that through Dee and her transformed self we are able to know the true meaning of an individual’s heritage, and how heritage is perceived in many different ways.

All of the narrator’s memories shape how we see Dee’s character. She wants her life to be separate from the lives of her mother and sister, along with all that surrounds them: their house, their livelihood, etc. When she was young Dee distanced herself from them in small ways, such as, “. . . read[ing] to [them] without pity; forcing words, lies, [and] other folks habits . .” (445). She used her education as against her mother and sister, making them feel ashamed. When the family’s first house burned down, the house that Dee hated, she stood watching “. . . the last dingy gray board of the house fall in toward the red-hot brick chimney,” while her mother pulled Maggie from the flames, “. . . her [little sister’s] hair smoking and dress falling off her in little black papery flakes” (444). Here Dee is portrayed as having almost no compassion for the lives of her own mother and sister. An even greater sense of superiority is born in Dee when she is sent to school in Augusta. She states in a letter to her mother that she will come visit the family’s new home, but she will never bring her friends; a result of her obvious embarrassment. Before Dee’s arrival her mother predicts that when Dee sees the house she will “[n]o doubt . . . want to tear it down” (445).

What happens when Dee, or Wangero Leewanika Kemanjo, arrives is quite opposite of what her mother predicted. Dee steps out of the car in a flowing, loud dress that hurts her mother’s eyes. Her Swahili greeting of “Wa-su-zo-Tean-o,” that must be sounded out, is both surprising and confusing to her mother. Even more surprising is the company Dee has brought with her, company that her mother was told would never appear at the house. All of Dee’s actions and words from this point on make everything surrounding her, a delightful novelty. She snaps Polaroid photos of her mother and sister, never forgetting to include the house in the frame. The house that looks astoundingly similar to the one she hated as a child, she now cannot seem to get enough of. Dee deems benches that her father made, because they had no money to buy chairs, “lovely”. Even Dee’s friend looks at her mother as though he finds in her something amusing, he acts “. . . like somebody inspecting a Model A car” (446). Instead of seeing objects in her mother’s home as tools important to day-to-day function, Dee sees the new center-piece of her table, and an amusing art project. She sets her sights on two quilts that had been hand-pieced by her Grandmother and Aunt. Completely discounting the fact that the quilts had been promised to her sister, she exclaims, “Maggie can’t appreciate these quilts! . . . She’s probably backward enough to put them to everyday use” (448). A valid response to this statement might be, why would a quilt be used in any other way! Dee’s mother ends up taking the quilts out of her hands and giving them to Maggie, finally saying “no” to the girl the world never learned to say “no” to (443).

Upon leaving, Dee tells her mother that she just doesn’t understand. “What don’t I understand?” her mother replies. Dee calmly responds, “Your heritage [.]” The frustrating irony in this exchange is that Dee spent her whole life rejecting her heritage, until it suddenly became stylish to have one. The ornate clothing, Swahili phrases, and decorative items that she considers her heritage became meaningless once she left her family behind. Dee wants her heritage to be something that exists in her fantasies; while her mother and sister are perfectly content with, and proud of, the lives they lead and the heritage they embody.