Jess Gilchrist writes to you:
"When reading "Goodbye, My Brother," I couldn't help but think back to our discussion of black sheep. Moreover, I started thinking about how I feel when I got to family reunions. There's always this awkwardness so potent that it makes you feel like you're walking through gauze, ambling around, trying to converse with people you haven't seen in years. Here are people who are forged from the same bones as you, who's blood is an aggregate of your pieces, pumping through organs fabricated from familiar tissues.
"But Cheever doesn't tell the story of the average black sheep. We don't get his plight. Instead, we get the inner thoughts of a brother. Why? Why give us this main character instead of Lawrence? What can it do for the story? How does it move this story forward? Why is this story more effective for focusing from the outside? How does it create conflict?
"That last question is key. Cheever is often called the "Chekhov of the suburbs" for his ability to cast dark characters against light character. I would push it a little farther. Is Lawrence dark for wanting to criticize their dilapidated house and their drinking? Is the main character wrong to point that Lawrence should've just asked for a specific drink? Who is dark?
"To some extent, we all are. I'm interested to see how this unique point of view appealed to you all. How did this familiar story resonate with you? What worked?"
Cheever seems to enjoy writing unlikable main characters that have to deal with eccentric relatives or acquaintances. Cheever doesn’t directly characterize his main characters, the main character of “Goodbye, My Brother” acts more as an observer rather than a protagonist up until the very end. It would give too much away if Cheever showed us what Lawrence was actually thinking as he watched his family play backgammon or showing us why Miss Dent is so intent on humiliating Blake. Cheever is more interested in creating enigmas that the main characters have to try and figure out (unsuccessfully) rather than making them real or sympathetic. Lawrence is simply the dour, black sheep of the family who is portrayed as the worst of them and self-righteous and sanctimonious. Miss Dent is portrayed as flat-out crazy, though she is only sympathetic by how disgusting and loathsome Blake is, who cheats on his wife that he is neglectful and uncaring of. Cheever seems to think that juxtaposition is just as good as directly characterizing his protagonists and doesn’t care if you like the people he creates.
ReplyDeleteWhen reading "Goodbye, My Brother," I couldn't help but think back to our discussion of black sheep. Moreover, I started thinking about how I feel when I got to family reunions. There's always this awkwardness so potent that it makes you feel like you're walking through gauze, ambling around, trying to converse with people you haven't seen in years. Here are people who are forged from the same bones as you, who's blood is an aggregate of your pieces, pumping through organs fabricated from familiar tissues.
ReplyDeleteBut Cheever doesn't tell the story of the average black sheep. We don't get his plight. Instead, we get the inner thoughts of a brother. Why? Why give us this main character instead of Lawrence? What can it do for the story? How does it move this story forward? Why is this story more effective for focusing from the outside? How does it create conflict?
That last question is key. Cheever is often called the "Chekhov of the suburbs" for his ability to cast dark characters against light character. I would push it a little farther. Is Lawrence dark for wanting to criticize their dilapidated house and their drinking? Is the main character wrong to point that Lawrence should've just asked for a specific drink? Who is dark?
To some extent, we all are. I'm interested to see how this unique point of view appealed to you all. How did this familiar story resonate with you? What worked?
I have to say I really enjoyed Cheever's writing, especially "Goodbye, My Brother", a lot more than I expected to as I started reading. I think the story speaks to feelings of detachment and tension that occur in everyday situations. There is no huge or dramatic conflict involved in "Goodbye, My Brother", yet the story still feels significant despite its mundane details of ocean swims and family dinners and flower shows. It's interesting that the story's main character is not the heavy focus of the piece, narrowing in instead on the way the family views the black sheep of the family. This distance from the piece's subject only serves to push the theme of detachment on us even more. There's something eerie about the things that Lawrence points out to this family so determined to feel bliss, such as the fact that their beloved family vacation home is literally about to fall into the sea. The tension and conflict within the family is driven by a desire to hold onto any happiness they can, while being thwarted again and again by Lawrence's pessimism and "realism". The way that Cheever shapes this tension is through subtle dialogue and descriptions of the family, where Lawrence and Ruth are always the outcasts of their own volition and according to the narrator, always the cause of upset for the family. I think the most interesting aspect of this piece is the fact that it's impossible to decide which extreme is better, the family's blind optimism and ignorance of its problems or Lawrence's blind pessimism and inability to see any good in the world.
ReplyDeleteWhen reading John Cheever's pieces, I couldn't help but think of how grounded his pieces were. Each tory contained a cast of (somewhat) likable characters that I had no trouble relating to people I know, or at least know exist. The story DID feel all too familiar with me, as it read more like a non-fictional pieces about detached family members or acquaintances going through similar, everyday ordeals or conflicts. In "Goodbye, My Brother," there is a normal-ish family depicted that have a loner, or black sheep, of the family that they don't really understand. I think that having Lawrence so different from his family and having him observe the little details of his family, like an outsider looking in (trying to understand what drives these people in hopes of understanding them, just like the analytical lawyer that his is) only helps fuel the distance we feel between him and his family. I can feel for Lawrence, as I am the only member of my family wanting to pursue higher education and become a doctor, however, my family actually likes me and like that I am literally nothing like them. His setting and world are so greatly detailed with little, subtle things that just solidifies the feeling of the story as "real." I didn't like the fact that the central characters of his stories, mainly Lawrence, were not really the actual center of the story, at first. I then began to respect this choice once reading further and realizing I felt so similarly to Lawrence and actually felt more sympathetic to his plight, just like that of Miss Dent. This distance separates you at first, but as the story engulfs you, and you learn more of the plot that unfolds that sheds more light on the characters' motives, the tension increases between the two sides of the story, and you come out with a clear choice of who you support. Even though I didn't necessarily enjoy the stories of Cheever, I respect and actually like the original way that he spun them.
ReplyDeleteReading "Goodbye, My Brother" reminded me of an episode of Arrested Development, expect it's a lot more pessimistic and the irony isn't the kind that makes you want to laugh. They're similar in that they share a broken family dynamic, the difference being that the Pommeroys are drifting apart from each other. I like how Lawrence is like the center of a wheel, and each of his family member's concern and criticism toward him are spokes that extend outward. He's clearly the black sheep member of his family -- and maybe it's depression -- but it seems he just has a heightened sense of reality and the foolishness of his family for wanting to recreate the past or laugh and party makes him feel even more isolated -- if they could only see their crumbling lives for what they are. There is a sadness in knowing that Lawrence is bringing up his children to have that same pessimism -- it is implied that they too feel like having fun is futile -- it won't change the grave reality of life.
ReplyDelete"The Five-Forty-Eight" is a story that takes an ironic, unexpected turn for the anticlimactic. The entire story is constructed in a way that does not encourage emotional investment in the characters. You feel pity for Ms. Dent, but then you realize the woman is psychotic. You dislike Mr. Blake for taking advantage of her, but then all of the very normal details of the life he lives make you think he is no worse than any other man -- everyone has some kind of baggage, after all. Instead of investment in the characters, the story functions through tension. Who is this woman? Why is she following him? The more Blake insists she has to be harmless, the more you know she probably isn't. And then she has a gun, and you now she has a gun, and she has him kneel in the dirt facing away from her and you know she's about to pull the trigger. I figured she wouldn't kill him -- it's too predictable; she'll turn the gun on herself instead. But then she walks away. Literally just turns away and leaves. In any other case, a plot twist would have made me feel like the story is lacking resolution, but somehow it felt complete. Maybe because the situational irony feels justified in a way that is deserving of discussion. I can't quite put into words how the story made me feel.
All families are their own flavor of unique and there tends to be at least one relative who adds additional spice to the mix, for better or worse. One thing I found striking about Cheever’s stories is the back and forth interpretations characters have for one another. Many perspectives give light to the various ways of viewing these characters. Not only does the main character of “Goodbye, My Brother” tell his interpretation of his brother Lawrence, he also interprets how he believes Lawrence must judge their family and himself. Even an exchange of words between the main character and Anna the cook about Lawrence adds to his disliked identity in this story. We are also able to see the nature of other characters reacting to Lawrence, like the mother who drinks heavily whenever upset by her son and seeking to avoid the less than proper faults in their dynamic. The Pomeroy family holds themselves in high esteem. Their gilded identity is a covering for rotting relationships underneath. “I know one thing…I know that if there is an afterlife, I’m going to have a very different kind of family. I’m going to have nothing but fabulously rich, witty, and enchanting children,” announces the mother when drunk. And yet, this family where different members each have their own outward fault, it appears that the connection, which keeps them committed to one another, is their desire to appear polished and their mutual distain for Lawrence. Cheever builds this mess between characters of this family so heavily that an ending fall out is inevitable. On the flip, we are finally able to make an opinion of the main character, our narrator who has been conveying the quality of Lawrence throughout, by his reaction at the end. Even though he has done a terrible injustice to his brother, he does not react with guilt or dramatic emotion. Instead, he sinks into the role of his family; simply walking away from confronting his attack on Lawrence and retreats to the therapeutic beach where he watches the women naked and swimming. The ocean has been used as an image of purifying and cleansing throughout. By ending the scene here, Cleever shows us this family skips repentance and goes right to washing away of ugly guilt.
ReplyDelete"Goodbye, My Brother" really stuck out to me. Lawrence's character isn't something we usually see in short stories and the fact that we couldn't quite get into his head really made me curious about where the story was going. As everyone has mentioned, the idea of the "black sheep" really ties in well with what we are currently learning in class. With all the different types of writing styles and methods we have come across through everyone's pieces, Cheever successfully shows us that there is good found within what is different. That's because what is different is what is found in reality. All of the characters, like Laurence, were real. There was nothing superficial about them, it didn't feel like I was reading a character on the page. Instead, their stories were believable. That's what makes the black sheep so special in fiction. It captures our attention as a reader and attunes us more firmly to the story being told. Cheever does just that and, without too much judgement, creates a realistic world through the eyes of Laurence and his family.
ReplyDeleteI'm really pumped that I typed out a super long response and then my internet timed out and erased the entire thing! I love SU Wifi. Anyway, since it's 1:15 am and I have a test to study for, I'll just make some annoying bullet points about what I covered in what was once a fairly decent response:
ReplyDelete- John Cheever is my kind of writer
- I really appreciated the depth and necessary confusion he achieved by describing the "black sheep" of the family through the narration of his brother
- When people make assumptions about others, I am quick to brush them off, but I was taken aback when the narrator's assumptions about Lawrence's thought process were pretty spot on (his opinions of family members, way of picking apart the house, etc)
- Dynamic between Lawrence, Ruth and their children pointed even more to Lawrence's enigmatic nature. The tension highlights an issue that not even the narrator can put his finger on.
Well, this second attempt at a response is horrid and I apologize! I just can't fight with this terrible wifi anymore today.
When reading a story about a family, it will almost always illicit an emotional response or recall a memory because we all have families or some form of familial situation. I think Cheever uses that setting as a way to comfort the reader in his juxtaposition of darker and lighter characters. For example, in "Goodbye, My Brother," the narrator is recalling childhood memories and of why the atmosphere is tense: "I remembered that once, twenty-five years ago, when I had hit Lawrence on the head with a rock, he had picked himself up and gone directly to our father to complain." I read the narrator's tone here as a bit sarcastic, or more so resentful, as in the way kids do when another child is the 'snitch.' At first I almost sided with the narrator's emotions but it reminded me of conversations between my sister and I of our own fights when we were younger and she had a similar attitude to the narrator's here. It made me realize that I shouldn't sympathize with the narrator, but rather try and figure out the meaning behind the actions of Lawrence. I just really admire Cheever's ability to characterize Lawrence by showing him through the observations of a biased brother and actions of his 'estranged' family.
ReplyDeleteWhen I began reading "Goodbye My Brother" Cheever's writing seemed so clipped and very "straight to the point". As a reader I felt instantly distanced from the formal-essay-style of writing I felt come across. Especially where he writes " I don't say any of this because I'm interested in family history or because this sense of uniqueness is deeply important to me but in order to advance the point that we are loyal to one another in spite of our differences, and that any rupture this loyalty is a source of confusion and pain". Then as the story continues and the reader gets used to the ways in which the story moves, it becomes easier and easier to fall into his very abrupt way of jumping from topic to topic. I also agree with Maddie when she said "I really appreciated the depth and necessary confusion he achieved by describing the "black sheep" of the family through the narration of his brother". I like the fact that the narration is through the brother rather than through the character himself, so we can clearly see the ways in which he really is the "black sheep" of the family through his brother's sarcasm and, as Chelsy says, his "bias".
ReplyDeleteI have read that others are also making references to the "black sheep" exercise we had in class (which was my favorite!) and I can't help but agree. My favorite stories are about family dynamics, though I usually prefer nonfiction, but this still has the same feel as a nonfiction piece, with nothing being unnatural and having the tone of a personal essay. Even with family oriented pieces being my favorite, after reading many they can sometimes seem to run together and get a bit "old" but this one avoided that, because of the perspective it chose. Most stories that have similar subject matter to this one chose the narrator to be the "black sheep" or something similar. This particular story ("Goodbye My Brother") actually had the perspective of another family member. I think this helped the story, because we got to see just how the rest of the family might see Lawrence, but without any self-pity or angsty outsider feeling that we would have been likely to get if it were told by Lawrence.
ReplyDeleteCheever mirrors this in the second short story, "The Five-Forthy-Eight" in which he tells the story through the perspective of someone other than the main character, and also takes on a common idea which is a man who is vain and proud who gets put down by someone else.
Please excuse my terribly delayed response, midterms got the best of me this week! In class we really went into detail with "Goodbye My Brother" and the idea of the black sheep in every family. In this story, a family is reunited at a holiday home for a month in the summer but the trip quickly grows sour with the arrival of brother Lawrence, the undoubted black sheep. The other family members are eager to see Lawrence and envision themselves enjoying the trip through refreshed eyes thanks to his reunion. The sea will be all the more bluer and the beach all the more beautiful through the (assumed) delight of Lawrence and his family. However, this is not so and soon they grow tired of Lawrence's shrewd remarks and the unpleasant faces of his troubled children. In the end, our narrator comments that Lawrence says goodbye to everything; his college, his home in Chicago, neighbors, etc. and he suspects that Lawrence has come to say goodbye to the family beach home as well. What he does not expect is that he is the one to say goodbye after hitting Lawrence. The two part way for what we can only assume is going to be a very long time, if not forever. So then the question becomes, was it Lawrence who ostracized himself or did his family unknowingly push him into exile? That is what stood out the most to me looking back. It's a piece that makes you sit back and go "wow" when you finish it.
ReplyDeleteWhen I was reading Goodbye, My Brother, I noticed that the story rotates around the brother, Lawrence, and how it was innately more about the narrator than anything. I guess the best way that I can describe it would be watching the earth from the moon. The moon is constantly facing the earth as the earth spins and this watching is much of how the narrator takes us through the story. It's funny to think about how much attention is given to the brother, how that is what was decided to be told. Yes, the earth spins, but relative to the earth it is in fact the moon that moves in space, simply tracing out orbits as it goes, all the while facing our blue marble. In this way the narrator does not focus on himself, and that is kind of interesting to me. In this story the narrator tells us about all of the negative qualities of Lawrence only to have those qualities confirmed by some sort of action on Lawrence's part later on. It is almost like how stereotypes perpetuate themselves. When we hear stuff like, "Oh women can't drive" and then we see a woman get into a car accident, it is a very natural reaction to go, "Well that must be true, I saw it myself." To this extent, John Cheever uses this predictable behavior of the reader to his advantage. He plants the thought, and when that perception is confirmed later by something in the story, we naturally lean more on him, and trust that what is said is real. I'm not saying the narrator is trusted, no, that is not true in this story, however Cheever sets the story up to make us feel comfortable with our assumptions, and in turn trusting of all the details in the story to be very real things that we can piece together to find the true reality (not just the narrators reality). Overall, this allows us to trust the intention of all of the details given, and know that by unpacking these details we can come to the correct conclusion of their meaning instead of one that he did not intend.
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