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Split Thread The writings of Flannery O'Connor

RedIbis

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Split from this thread as it's an interesting topic but deserves its own thread.
Posted By: LashL


With Faulkner and Hemingway, O'Connor is one of my all-time favorites. If there is a funnier, more careful short story writer, I'd like to know who it is.
 
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Just about everybody? I hate Flannery O'Conner. I can't find the funny beneath her bitterness and anti-intellectualism.

Maybe you should read O'Connor then. What she attacks is pseudo-intellectualism, pseudo-piety.
 
Maybe you should read O'Connor then. What she attacks is pseudo-intellectualism, pseudo-piety.

We just did a unit on her in the upper-division Short Story class I took at ASU. Tell me even one story she wrote that has a college-educated character that isn't a miserable, "pseudo-intellectual" failure living with their mother.
 
We just did a unit on her in the upper-division Short Story class I took at ASU. Tell me even one story she wrote that has a college-educated character that isn't a miserable, "pseudo-intellectual" failure living with their mother.

"The Artificial ******" for one.

So you read "All That Rises..." "Good Country People" and maybe "Revelation."

O'Connor's world view, confined as it may be to the South, is much too complex to summarize in a few off-hand comments. If she had written nothing but "A Good Man Is Hard to Find" she'd still go down as one of America's finest writers. And there's nothing in the story to suggest that Bailey is college educated, so that would be another one.
 
"The Artificial ******" for one.

So you read "All That Rises..." "Good Country People" and maybe "Revelation."

O'Connor's world view, confined as it may be to the South, is much too complex to summarize in a few off-hand comments.
No it isn't, it can be done in one short sentence: "Without god's grace, humans are worthless". Read her correspondence, she's got one note to play.

If she had written nothing but "A Good Man Is Hard to Find" she'd still go down as one of America's finest writers.
Please, the Misfit is a textbook strawman- "There's no pleasure but in meaness". He's got precious little more depth than a villian from an Eighties toy-based cartoon. The family are nothing but two-dimensional representations of the iniquities she percieves in the modern secular family- the father is weak and ineffectual, the kids are vicious, selfish, and manipulative, the mother is a non-entity, and the grandmother, true to the O'Conner form, is a shallow, superficial, prideful idiot. O'Conner disposes of the family with no fanfare beacuse they are not real characters, they are cardboard props in her little morality play. The only event of any signifigance is the redemption of the grandmother when she realizes her lack of worth and declares she's the same blood as the Misfit- meaning she's abandoned her pridefulness and accepted she's no better than anyone else. And that comes not from her own growth or effort, but is imposed on her by the threat of the Misfit's gun, which is metaphorically God's "grace".

And there's nothing in the story to suggest that Bailey is college educated, so that would be another one.
Then he doesn't count.
 
Just about everybody? I hate Flannery O'Conner. I can't find the funny beneath her bitterness and anti-intellectualism.

O'Conner's childhood home is on the tourist beat here in Savannah. Perhaps you have to be southern to understand her though I doubt it. You realize of course she was a satirist (Southern Gothic division) and a devout Catholic?

I haven't read her stuff in years but I don't recall any bitterness or anti-intellectualism. Do you have any examples?

All her stories were ultimately about faith and religion and all her protagonists get their comeuppance in bizarre and extreme ways that are admittedly not to everyone's taste but she is often riotously funny.

ETA:

Please, the Misfit is a textbook strawman- "There's no pleasure but in meaness". He's got precious little more depth than a villian from an Eighties toy-based cartoon. The family are nothing but two-dimensional representations of the iniquities she percieves in the modern secular family- the father is weak and ineffectual, the kids are vicious, selfish, and manipulative, the mother is a non-entity, and the grandmother, true to the O'Conner form, is a shallow, superficial, prideful idiot. O'Conner disposes of the family with no fanfare beacuse they are not real characters, they are cardboard props in her little morality play. The only event of any signifigance is the redemption of the grandmother when she realizes her lack of worth and declares she's the same blood as the Misfit- meaning she's abandoned her pridefulness and accepted she's no better than anyone else. And that comes not from her own growth or effort, but is imposed on her by the threat of the Misfit's gun, which is metaphorically God's "grace".

Did the instruction explain that O'Connor was a starriest, not a realist? It sounds to me like you're prejudiced against her because of her religious faith.
 
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O'Conner's childhood home is on the tourist beat here in Savannah. Perhaps you have to be southern to understand her though I doubt it. You realize of course she was a satirist (Southern Gothic division) and a devout Catholic?
Yes, that's painfully obvious. Her satire is completely in service to her faith.

I haven't read her stuff in years but I don't recall any bitterness or anti-intellectualism. Do you have any examples?
Regarding Julian, "Everything That Rises Must Converge":
"Were it not that she was a widow who had struggled fiercely to feed and clothe and put him through school and who was supporting him still, “until he got on his feet,...”
" “Some day I'll start making money,” Julian said gloomily- he knew he never would..."
“I think you're doing fine,” she said, drawing on her gloves. “You've only been out of school a year. Rome wasn't built in a day.”

Regarding Joy, "Good Country People":
"Joy was her daughter, a large blonde girl who had an
artificial leg. Mrs. Hopewell thought of her as a child though she was
thirty-two years old and highly educated."
"when Joy had to be impressed for these services,
her remarks were usually so ugly and her face so glum that Mrs. Hopewell
would say, “If you can’t come pleasantly, I don’t want you at all,” to which
the girl, standing square and rigid-shouldered with her neck thrust
slightly forward, would reply, “If you want me, here I am – LIKE I AM.”"
"Her
name was really Joy but as soon as she was twenty-one and away from
home, she had had it legally changed. Mrs. Hopewell was certain that she
had thought and thought until she had hit upon the ugliest name in any
language. Then she had gone and had the beautiful name, Joy, changed
without telling her mother until after she had done it. Her legal name was
Hulga"
"When Hulga stumped into the kitchen in the morning (she could walk
without making the awful noise but she made it – Mrs. Hopewell was
certain – because it was ugly-sounding), she glanced at them and did not
speak."
"Whenever she looked at Joy this way, she could not help but feel that it
would have been better if the child had not taken the Ph.D. It had
certainly not brought her out any and now that she had it, there was no
more excuse for her to go to school again. Mrs. Hopewell thought it was
nice for girls to go to school to have a good time but Joy had “gone
through.” Anyhow, she would not have been strong enough to go again.
The doctors had told Mrs. Hopewell that with the best of care, Joy might
see forty-five. She had a weak heart. Joy had made it plain that if it had
not been for this condition, she would be far from these red hills and good
country people. She would be in a university lecturing to people who
knew what she was talking about. And Mrs. Hopewell could very well
picture here there, looking like a scarecrow and lecturing to more of the
same. Here she went about all day in a six-year-old skirt and a yellow
sweat shirt with a faded cowboy on a horse embossed on it. She thought
this was funny; Mrs. Hopewell thought it was idiotic and showed simply
that she was still a child. She was brilliant but she didn’t have a grain of
sense. It seemed to Mrs. Hopewell that every year she grew less like other
people and more like herself – bloated, rude, and squint-eyed."

Via Wiki, other stories:
"The main character Sheppard is a liberal, atheistic rationalist who is unsympathetic with the grief of his young son, Norton, despite the death of Norton's mother only a year before the story takes places. Sheppard believes helping other people improve their lives is the greatest virtue in life, and he is frustrated with his inability to help Norton's grief and resulting foibles. Sheppard tells Norton that his Mother is dead, and no longer exists.

Eventually, Sheppard invites Rufus Johnson, a fourteen-year-old juvenile delinquent, to live with them against Norton's wishes. Sheppard met Johnson while volunteering at a juvenile incarceration facility, and desperately wants to help Johnson turn his life around. Johnson holds Sheppard in contempt and strongly believes in good and evil, but believes that he himself is evil and resists all of the naive attempts by Sheppard to help him. Against Sheppard's wishes, Johnson tells Norton that his mother is in heaven above the earth, and he will only see her again if he dies as a child before he is corrupted. The story ends with Johnson being taken away by the police for a burglary and with Sheppard then finding Norton hanged dead from an attic rafter above the telescope that Sheppard purchased to help Johnson expand his horizons."

"The story involves Asbury, a writer from New York who returns home to his mother's farm in the South after being diagnosed with a serious illness. He is out of money, unsuccessful and believes he is dying."

There are no successful, happy educated people in O'Connor's world. Not one.

All her stories were ultimately about faith and religion and all her protagonists get their comeuppance in bizarre and extreme ways that are admittedly not to everyone's taste but she is often riotously funny.
I found them contrived and didactic.


Did the instruction explain that O'Connor was a [satirist], not a realist?
Yes, of course. But ideology-based satire doesn't really work if you don't buy into the author's prejudices, does it?

It sounds to me like you're prejudiced against her because of her religious faith.
Maybe, but to be fair that's all she writes about. As a moderately educated atheist her work goes over with me about as well as a blackface minstrel show would go over at an NAACP meeting.
 
Please, the Misfit is a textbook strawman- "There's no pleasure but in meaness". He's got precious little more depth than a villian from an Eighties toy-based cartoon. The family are nothing but two-dimensional representations of the iniquities she percieves in the modern secular family- the father is weak and ineffectual, the kids are vicious, selfish, and manipulative, the mother is a non-entity, and the grandmother, true to the O'Conner form, is a shallow, superficial, prideful idiot. O'Conner disposes of the family with no fanfare beacuse they are not real characters, they are cardboard props in her little morality play. The only event of any signifigance is the redemption of the grandmother when she realizes her lack of worth and declares she's the same blood as the Misfit- meaning she's abandoned her pridefulness and accepted she's no better than anyone else. And that comes not from her own growth or effort, but is imposed on her by the threat of the Misfit's gun, which is metaphorically God's "grace".

At least spell the woman's name correctly. And your interpretation while on the surface might have some relevance displays a common lack of depth of interpretation. For instance, while many students and scholars think that the grandmother exclaims, "why you're one of my babies" because she recognizes the same "pridefulness" in the Misfit as in herself. Or as some scholars have noted, that she is recognizing the same God (or the devil) in the Misfit as she sees in herself, what the grandmother might really be saying is literal.
 
Maybe, but to be fair that's all she writes about. As a moderately educated atheist her work goes over with me about as well as a blackface minstrel show would go over at an NAACP meeting.

Regardless of her personal religious beliefs, no one was in a better position or described as well the religious hypocrisy of the South.
 
At least spell the woman's name correctly.
Mea culpa.

And your interpretation while on the surface might have some relevance displays a common lack of depth of interpretation. For instance, while many students and scholars think that the grandmother exclaims, "why you're one of my babies" because she recognizes the same "pridefulness" in the Misfit as in herself. Or as some scholars have noted, that she is recognizing the same God (or the devil) in the Misfit as she sees in herself, what the grandmother might really be saying is literal.

Yes, I said nearly the same thing, didn't I?
The only event of any signifigance is the redemption of the grandmother when she realizes her lack of worth and declares she's the same blood as the Misfit- meaning she's abandoned her pridefulness and accepted she's no better than anyone else.

So what "depth" am I missing? If there is some value to her beyond her preaching I'd really like to know what that is.
 
Regardless of her personal religious beliefs, no one was in a better position or described as well the religious hypocrisy of the South.

And she confronted the pernicious effects of lingering, barely acknowledged racism endemic in the South head-on and unapologetically as well. I'll give her props for that. It would have been nice if she could have done that because she recognized the inherent humanity of black people, instead of because tearing down prideful whites was her way to make the point she thinks humans are all trash without god.
 
That's the shallow interpretation, and does not fit with the way other characters are used metaphorically in the story- like the gas station owner, or the family as I described.

I'm sure you can find all sorts of metaphorical possibilities for Red Sammy, the grandmother, The Misfit, or anyone else in the story, but the much more interesting possibility is that Red Sam's wife is simply warning the family before he shuts her up.
 
Why is that more interesting?

Because she might have a reason for warning them.

Similarly, when the grandmother calls the Misfit "one of my babies" it explains nearly all of the foreshadowing O'Connor has set up. But even with this prodigious style, most readers want to extract some grand metaphor out of the story, instead of what O'Connor was often doing, which is to suggest that whatever hypocrisy has guided your life will eventually come and bite you on the ass like a stray, mangy dog, you know you should have shot when you had the chance.
 
Because she might have a reason for warning them.
What reason?

Similarly, when the grandmother calls the Misfit "one of my babies" it explains nearly all of the foreshadowing O'Connor has set up.
What foreshadowing, specifically? What did you find in the story to suggest the grandmother had a child she abandonded before she bore the son she's with?

But even with this prodigious style, most readers want to extract some grand metaphor out of the story, instead of what O'Connor was often doing, which is to suggest that whatever hypocrisy has guided your life will eventually come and bite you on the ass like a stray, mangy dog, you know you should have shot when you had the chance.
I see. And that's not a metaphor?
 
What reason?
Well, when Sam's wife says, "There's no one in this green world of God's that you can trust and I don't count no one out of that, not no one" (paraphrase). She's looking straight at her husband. Re-read those sections again and at the end you can see the similarities between Red Sam and Hiram.

What foreshadowing, specifically? What did you find in the story to suggest the grandmother had a child she abandonded before she bore the son she's with?
Right from the start, O'Connor says that "Bailey was the son she lived with, her only boy." If you just read the first clause, it sounds like she has more sons. The second phrase is more in line with the Southern vernacular that your boy is someone with whom you are very familiar.

Speaking of familiarity, when the grandmother recognizes the Misfit, the line is, "his face was as familiar to her as if she had known him all her life, but she could not recall who he was." Recognizing someone's face from the newspaper (even if O'Connor never says the grandmother sees a photograph) is not the experience of recognizing someone as if you had known that person all your life.


I see. And that's not a metaphor?
No. As the Misfit said himself when describing the confusion over who his real father is, he was a different breed of dog. That old dog quite literally came back to bite the grandmother.
 
Well, when Sam's wife says, "There's no one in this green world of God's that you can trust and I don't count no one out of that, not no one" (paraphrase). She's looking straight at her husband. Re-read those sections again and at the end you can see the similarities between Red Sam and Hiram.
Are you claiming that Sam and Hiram are the same person?

Right from the start, O'Connor says that "Bailey was the son she lived with, her only boy." If you just read the first clause, it sounds like she has more sons. The second phrase is more in line with the Southern vernacular that your boy is someone with whom you are very familiar.
That's pretty contrived.

Speaking of familiarity, when the grandmother recognizes the Misfit, the line is, "his face was as familiar to her as if she had known him all her life, but she could not recall who he was." Recognizing someone's face from the newspaper (even if O'Connor never says the grandmother sees a photograph) is not the experience of recognizing someone as if you had known that person all your life.
So why was this relationship ignored when they were talking about the Misfit in the beginning of the story?

No. As the Misfit said himself when describing the confusion over who his real father is, he was a different breed of dog. That old dog quite literally came back to bite the grandmother.
Yeah, that's a metaphor.
 

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