Goodness! O'Connor obsesses over it, teases it and twists it. In the end of these two stories she leaves us with a murderer and a seducer teaching hard-won lessons to women who'd believed they had it all figured out. All writers have obsessions. O'Connor bring her characters to life through their appearance, action, dialogue, and thought; and every bit of direct characterization is in service to her obsessions with morality. One of my favorite passages from "A Good Man Is Hard to Find" sneaks in under the radar as one of the Grandmother's bits of unwanted advice. Think about this: she "cautioned Bailey that the speed limit was fifty-five miles an hour and that the patrolmen hid themselves behind billboards and small clumps of trees and sped out after you before you had a chance to slow down." Oh, sneaky rulekeepers! How dare they hide in order to catch you misbehaving. Watch out for the judges who hide among you! If you're sure you can get away with it, speed on!
When the Misfit is there to catch Grandmother misbehaving, she reforms. O'Connor seems to be asking whether threat is the only way to salvation.
In "Good Country People," nasty Hulga maintains her position of intellectual superiority up until she is brought to mortification. Will this moment ironically save her from herself? Why does the story start and end with Mrs. Freeman? Maybe it shows the unreliability of the narrator.... This will lead us to a discussion of direct characterization versus authorial interpretation, as explored in the next chapter of Burroway. At the beginning the narrator tells us: "Besides the neutral expression that she wore when she was alone, Mrs. Freeman had two others, forward and reverse, that she used for all her human dealings." By the end, the narrator has faded and we get Mrs. Freeman herself: "Some can't be that simple," she said. "I know I never could." Whom do we believe?
If all writers have obsessions, what are yours?
I can’t remember the last time a reading assignment got me as excited as this Flannery O’Connor one has. Typically, I’ll read whatever chapters or stories that were assigned, feel some level of interest, but for the most part am overcome by a sense of monotony and “this isn’t pleasure reading, and I’m reading this as I would read a math textbook.” O’Connor’s two stories, though—they actually had me emotionally attached in a way I wouldn’t ever have expected. For the first time in a long time, I laughed out loud to lines like “When Mrs. Hopewell thought the name, Hulga, she thought of the broad blank hull of a battleship”; absolutely shocked at plot-curveballs like the “pistol shot from the woods, followed closely by another” when the Misfit arrives; and completely invested in an “uh oh, I think I might know what’s coming next” when it becomes clearer that Pointer had less-than-holy intentions.
ReplyDeleteWhy did I end up so invested in these two pieces? O’Connor is accomplishing more than mere “good writing,” and we can use Burroway’s notes to prove her reigning of the craft. We just read the section on “characterization,” which is just one of many things O’Connor does almost flawlessly. In “Good Country People,” she uses the various dialogue techniques to help us get to know Pointer and Hulga. We see Pointer enters into the Hopewell household and says things like “I know I’m real simple. I don’t know how to say a thing but to say it. I’m just a country boy.” Right off the bat, he tries to sell his simple-mindedness, putting himself lower on the intellectual totem pole so the Hopewell’s drop their guard. There’s nothing to fear from “good country people”—it’s the learned folks who have the tricks up their sleeves and who will try to take advantage of you. Obviously, we see this to be proven untrue, when Pointer pulls a flask of whiskey, condoms, and playing cards out of the cut-out in the Bible.
Pointer’s personality is captured by his dialogue, and O’Connor does what Burrow considers “difficult to do well and easy to overdo”—vernacular. O’Connor allows Pointer to say things like “I know you’re a Chrustian because I can see it in every line in your face,” and “Yes mam, I would sher love to do that,” without the text becoming distracting. It works perfectly, and after only a page or two I found my internal “reading voice” slowly changing to a southern drawl unlike my normal voice. The dialogue was so accurate, so pinpointed to the characters she created that I began to talk like them (while reading), and to some degree, thought on the same level as they did. Because of O’Connor’s “dual-layered” dialogue, (“It must do more than one thing at a time or it is too inert for the purposes of fiction”), I was moved forward with the plot and also with the emotional story.
Some of Pointer’s first words are ‘“Mrs. Hopewell,” he began, using her name in a way that sounded almost intimate, “I know you believe in Chrustian service.”’ That one line alone holds enough information to write an entire essay on—we can see through the vernacular and direct dialogue that Pointer is trying to woo Mrs. Hopewell with his religious innocence and good manners, but we can infer from the indirect dialogue and significant detail in his “almost intimate” delivery that Pointer has desires far worse than piety.
I guess I should wrap this up now—two paragraphs were done awhile ago. I’d really like to read more of O’Connor, and I guess after reading her two pieces in Doubletakes and realizing how well she accomplishes Burroway’s must-do’s, it’s no surprise she’s secured her spot in the short story canon.
I feel as though the standard "grandmother character" in a piece is either one of two types of characters. Either she is a sweet, wise, gentle woman or an irritable, bitter, cold woman. When I first began reading Flannery O'Connor's A Good Man Is Hard to Find, I tried to pin one of those templates on the grandmother in the story, however, neither seemed appropriate for this particular grandmother. The grandmother comes off initially as over-bearing and grumpy when the story begins. She is trying to convince the family to not go on their family vacation to Florida because of an escaped, violent convict dubbed The Misfit. Even when the journey to Florida starts she begins harping on her son, Bailey, to not drive fast because the police will be quick to pull one over. As the story goes on she appears to be a good story teller, a respectful lady, a religious person, and a few other identities, but in all these different identities there was one thing that I felt toward her and that was disdain. I hated how she talked too much. I hated how she had to bring her cat. I hated her little facts about plantains around the area that they were driving. When they met The Misfit, I was screaming to her in my head to just shut up—"Please stop your goddamn talking," I thought.
ReplyDeleteHowever, in the end, I guess the grandmother was one of the reasons I read through this story with great speed and emotion. I always think it is important to make the main character relatable and likable, but I feel as though Flannery O'Connor enticed me into reading along because of the contempt and disconnection I felt toward the grandmother. This story just reminded me how much power a writer can hold over their reader. I actually felt angry at this fictional character as I saw her jeopardize her whole fictional family. Only fiction can make one happy to hear that an old woman got shot in the chest three times.
I agree with Alex in that the main thing I noticed about O'Connors work was how well she used dialogue to create and shape the characters personalities as the stories progressed. I also thought it was interesting that she did use the vernacular because Burroway puts a large emphasis on how easy to over do this is. I think that her abilty to take a risk and do that, and do it well really shows her range of talent and her ability as a writer. Her ability to use dialogue in such a way that it molds the character was really impressive to me and I felt like that was something I could take away from this.
ReplyDeleteThat being said, her ability to create such distinct characters through the use of dialogue alone was amazing to me as I often find myself creating characters that speak so similarly that they become blurred. The thing I hope to take away from O'Connor is to try to be able to use dialogue in an effective way that will allow for a clearer distinction between characters.
One of the things I really liked about Flannery O’Connor was how she created her characters through the dialogue. Through her dialogue, the reader could see a good part of the character’s personality and background. For example the character The Misfit from “A Good Man is Hard to Find”, said “ I wisht I had been there…..[i]t ain’t right I wasn’t there” which showed the reader that he might be uneducated and that he felt a great deal of self-importance for himself (pg 524). The “wisht” and the “ain’t” also showed in a way without telling the reader that he might have lived in a place where grammar is not as important as the way men should be treating the women because later on when the Misfit talked to the grandmother he kept calling her lady instead of “you” or “granny”. He showed a sense of respect towards the family without being too obvious about his intentions. I don’t think the reader could have seen this without reading the dialogue which proves that is one of the main essential parts in providing information to the story
ReplyDeleteSurprisingly I have actually already read one of the stories my sophmore year of high school. As I was reading, “A Good Man is Hard to Find”, I suddenly remembered the character of The Misfit and how the family all tragically died. The excuse that grandmother says to Bailey about the criminal The Misfit escaped from the prison was the line that I remembered most of all from the story because I think of the irony it had. I loved it then and I still love it for the irony and the characterization of The Misfit and the grandmother. I felt like by reading Flannery O’Connor’s works I could see how she created these unique characters and use that technique in my own writing since it is a little difficult for me on how to write my characters in the story. Although I did like “A Good Man is Hard to Find”, I didn’t not really like “Good Country People” until the very end of the story because the main characters all drove me insane especially Hulga. I found it very hard to like her yet at the same time I understood why she acted the way she did because of her artificial leg. The only thing I could take from this story is the twist at the ending. I never expected for the Bible salesman to act that way. I thought he was truly one of those innocent boys who strongly believed in Christianity, and I think O’Connor twisted it in such a way that shows a more vulnerable side to Hulga and a more sinister way of Manley which I thought was the author’s own way of saying something about religion in a way. I would like to take that technique to twist my endings so that I could also show more of the character as well through the use of the dialogue.
I agree with the previous comments, that O'Connor is able to use dialogue, and vernacular, very well. Vernacular is hard to do, because, as Burroway says, there is a great possibility of overdoing it, and alienating readers. However, with her character Pointer, and even the brief cameo of the Red Sam and his wife in "A Good Man is Hard to Find," she is able to portray the characters without going overboard. That is one of the main things I found that stood out in both of the stories we read.
ReplyDeleteI was, however, a little shocked at the characters June Star and John Wesley. John Wesley is only eight-years old, and I don't think that we find out exactly how old June Star is, but it seemed like she was even younger. I was surprised at how they treated the grandmother. An eight-year old is usually infatuated with their grandmothers, though I suppose if you are living with her, and she is as overbearing as this woman is, it would be difficult. Still, I don't know many children who would talk like that to any of their elders.
I also agree with Nick about when they the Misfit came, and the grandmother wouldn't stop talking. I was very irritated reading this scene, especially when she yelled "You're the Misfit!" If she hadn't said that, who knows if it would have been possible for the family to escape alive.
From this reading I think I can take away O'Connor's finesse with dialogue. In my writing I try to steer clear of dialogue mostly because I find that when I write it it just seems pointless and fake. Having these two examples of just how powerful dialogue can be to a story will, I think, help me to realize how the right words can really move along a story when directly quoted, and how they can be used to make characters become real.
I cannot say that this is the first time I have read either of these stories, nor the second either. For some reason, it was a favorite of my teachers over the years. This time through I tried to look at it with new eyes. Before I was looking at it for what the story was, not how it was written or how O'Connor developed her character. Unfortunately I cannot say this without repeating the previous comments but her use of dialogue was truly genius and something I feel as though I can only aspire to bring into my own writing.
ReplyDeleteThe layers of the story within 'Good Country People' were intriguing. There was the semi constant presence of Mrs. Freeman who just observed the majority of the story and seemed to take in more than what was happening on the surface while Mrs. Hopewell took everything only at the surface level. Hulga is a half way between them, with not enough common sense. She was able to introduce these characters to the reader but through their dialogue and actions and not her own descriptions. O'Connor is a writer I have admired for a long time and I can only hope to bring her ability of dialogue and character development into my own writing.
I guess I didn't like O'Connor as much as everyone else, and I feel kind of hypocritical for it. The thing that I liked about Cheever's "Goodbye, My Brother" was the long accumulation of details that earned his ending. I found myself just aching to get through O'Connor's stories, waiting for her characters (especially the children in "A Good Man is Hard to Find") to be less obnoxious or for something (anything) to happen.
ReplyDeleteThat being said, I am so envious of how amazing her endings were when the stories did finally reach a climax and come to a close. I am so terrible at endings, so looking at one that is done so well really makes me think about what I can do to emulate it. That line from "A Good Man is Hard to Find"- "She would of been a good woman," The Misfit said, "if it had been somebody there to shoot her every minute of her life."- just gets me in a way that poetry lines sometimes do, like they tattoo themselves onto my insides. I think what I take from her is not being afraid to let the story end with someone that the story's not about.
I also love that O'Connor is obsessed with this idea of goodness and is willing to explore it in different ways in these two stories (and others?). I don't really know what I'm obsessed with, but I wonder if it'll be made clearer throughout the semester as I write more in fiction, my poetry class, and in my submissions to Essay. Maybe I'll find my theme.
Though this was not the first time I had read "A Good Man Is Hard To Find," this was the first time I really took note of the writing style and the issues involved in it. Personally, I found the writing style itself to be dry and rushed. "She thought this, and she said that," but there was no real action to actually SHOW these things. The story itself was compelling, but the opening scene describing a dysfunctional family was a bit off-putting. Everyone in this story seemed miserable besides the children, who simply made everyone else miserable in their wake. Perhaps this was the reason that the author chose to kill them all, as a warning about karma?
ReplyDeleteI was more interested in "Good Country People" mainly because it was completely new to me. That said, it was similar to "A Good Man Is Hard To Find" in that everyone seemed to be miserable in it, other than the irritatingly-gullible Mrs. Hopewell (whose name is, of course, all too fitting). The fact that the salesman claimed that his life was one disaster after another while dining with the Hopewells made it fairly obvious that he was a fraud. The fact that a thirty-something doctor was gullible enough to fall for his "seduction," which was not only clumsy but also offensive the moment he said that he was only interested in the woman because she had a false leg, ruined my suspension of disbelief at the same time that it made me wonder just what O'Connor was getting at. While there might be some sense in "A Good Man Is Hard To Find," there seemed to be none in "Good Country People" except that everyone is stupid and no one should bother with an education.
One of Flannery O'Connor's more superior qualities is her ability to charactorize through diologue. A good example is in her story "A good man is hard to find." Much of the story is no more than The Misfit talking, however through his dialogue we are able to get a good idea of who he is as a character. Even the way she makes him talk reveals things about him. When he says things like "Nome" meaning no, we as readers can tell that dosen't know grammer, and or probably dosen't care about it.
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed finding faults in some of her chatacters. The grandmother in "Good country people" Is a good example, because we can clearly see the mistakes she made that lead to the death of her and her family. Also the narrator in "Good contry people may be unreliable." I think working with the faults within each charactor is someting I could try using more in my own writing.
I must say, I struggled quite a bit with these two stories -- Sarah, I'm glad I wasn't the only one! I was perplexed by the writing, and while frustrating, I'm sure it's not quite a bad thing.
ReplyDeleteWhen I read O'Connor, I get the feeling that perhaps she, too, is as surprised by the unfolding of her stories as we are. In "A Good Man is Hard to Find," I can see O'Connor starting with an irritable grandmother. And then there's a family attached. And then hey, why not, they are going on a trip to Florida. And then there's an escaped convict introduced, whom they will inevitably run into. It's hard to make sense of these events, and I think that perhaps O'Connor didn't quite know how to make sense of them at first either -- just that she felt compelled to write them. I mean, I think the pull she felt to write them in itself means that the events of the story do end up working...I don't know. I'm probably seriously insulting O'Connor and O'Connor fans. But I'm not trying to say something bad about her writing. I'm just trying to say that I think she has this sixth writer-sense, and that she can put all these seemingly random aspects of a story together and make them profound.
I was definitely musing over the concept of "goodness" as I read these stories. It seems that O'Connor is poking fun at "goodness." The "good country people" bible salesman actually becomes a perverse yet wickedly intelligent man, and Joy/Hulga (still trying to figure out the reasons for the dual name action) is much more "good country people" than the reader originally believes; more than Joy/Hulga could have ever admitted.
In short, this abstract concept of goodness is made trite over and over again by O'Connor, and upon finishing these stories, it leaves the reader feeling strangely satisfied and sad.
A Good Man is Hard to Find follows a family on a road-trip-gone-amiss. Though the first half of the story seems light-hearted enough, O’Connor’s utilization of foreshadowing is indicative of foreboding turmoil. Attentive readers can predict the grandmother’s inevitable demise through contextual clues; she has a conversation about the Misfit with her grandchildren, she pins cloth violets in her hair to make her gender recognizable in the event that an accident occurs, she draws her family’s attention to a strange graveyard, and June Star is disappointed when “nobody’s killed” in the car accident. This story vaguely reminded me of a less symbolically complex version of Joyce Carol Oates’ Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been, which made me suspect that the Misfit’s true identity was Satan, a theory supported by his “red-rimmed” eyes, his comparison to the grim reaper, his viewpoint that “It’s no real pleasure in life”, and his distaste for Jesus. I am curious as to whether or not readers were intended to sympathize with the family, especially the grandmother. I don’t mean to sully this blog with unsavory expletives, but the grandmother was a straight up bitch. She lied to her grandchildren about the house with the hidden panel and she shared a story that encouraged racism towards blacks (I know, this was written in a different era, but that watermelon joke was still boorish), and the grandmother was also ultimately responsible for her family getting in the accident that led to their mass murder. The racist old bitch didn’t know where she was going and I’m going to refrain from making a joke about women being bad with directions because that’s irrelevant. The grandmother was simply too old and senile to navigate and she should’ve died a long time ago; she was a burden to her family. When readers think that the loud-mouthed grandmother can’t get any dumber, like a wrinkled Willie Scott (the blonde from Temple of Doom), she screams when she identifies the Misfit, leaving him with no choice but to kill all of them. I feel badly about the children being killed before the old lady, because they never got to enjoy life without their worthless grandmother.
ReplyDeleteIf you’re still reading after that absurd tirade, thank you, but I have less passionate feelings toward O’Connor’s Good Country People, a cautionary tale about Manly, a Paper Moon scammer who lures Hulga, a peg-legged babe with a tiring ticker, into a hayloft where he rapes and abandons her. To me, the most interesting aspect of this encounter is that neither Manley nor Hulga are real Christians. O’Connor may have done this to illustrate the anarchical events that can occur in a Godless world, but two older God-fearing women in the story, despite being unharmed, are blinded by ignorance, leaving me uncertain of O’Connor’s feelings on religion.
Both stories share religious undertones and scary hillbilly characters straight out of The Deliverance. These seem to be thematic obsessions of O’Connor’s. Admittedly, I enjoy stories that explore piety because they tend to be highly philosophical and provocative; O’Connor’s stories are no exception.
A Good Man is Hard to find sounded very familiar before I began reading, but after a couple pages, it was clear to me that had not read this story before. I agree with Dave, that the foreshadowing of this story is rather obvious, but the use of this foreshadowing was almost a little humorous. The story didn't seem that original to me, I feel as though I have read multiple stories in which a family road trip doesn't go as planned. It even seems at times that anything that can go wrong, will. With the grandmother,putting the flowers in her hair, it almost seemed as if she simply had no faith in her family.
ReplyDeleteI feel as though much of the character development of O'conner's characters was through dialogue. She did a very good job with it and I am able to use her stories for reference because I am a dialogue heavy writer, as you will see when I submit my first story tomorrow. I really liked her style, and admire how much a success it is. Personality can be flushed out so much more, then a writer simply telling the reader the emotions of a given character,; the dialogue allows the reader to discover the characters' personalities for his or herself, which is something I really wish to take form O'Connor's work
In both of these stories, Flannery O’Connor does a great job of discussing the notion of finding a good-hearted person. In each story, one of the main characters goes out looking for a good-natured person or is approached by someone they feel is good-hearted.
ReplyDeleteIn “A Good Man Is Hard To Find”, the family’s trip to Tennessee is representative of the grandmother trying to meet someone good-hearted. All in all, she finds two candidates. The first is a restaurant owner on the highway where the family stops to go to lunch. His view on the matter is talked about early in their lunch. “It was a old beat-up car but it was a good one and these boys looked all right to me. Said they worked at the mill and you know I let them fellers charge the gas they bough? Now why did I do that?” “Because you’re a good man!” the grandmother said at once. “Yes’m, I suppose so,” Red Sam said as if he were struck with this answer. In the end, I realized that he was not supposed to be the end of her adventure but one-half of the argument her family is having. The other half if spoken through his wife. The other peoson she meets that she thinks might be a “good” person at the beginning is a criminal they run across when their car breaks down. He feels like he is good and in the end, the grandmother and him are completely alone causing her to question her view on being “good” before he shoots her.
I feel like O’Connor did an amazing job writing these two essays and her style really helped to pull me into each essay. I may think about looking for more of her works.