The First Picture of Flourishing in Gilead

Briefly touching on Flourishing in Gilead which will be expounded upon in a later post I am sure, the scene early on in the book in which Ames and his father are nearly starving in search of his Grandfather’s corpse, the two say grace before eating some stolen carrots (ironic in itself as his father was also a preacher).

“He said, ‘For all we are about to receive,” and then we both started laughing till the tears were pouring down” (15).

Food and the act of feeding people have larger biblical significance in this novel as they invoke images of communion and Christ giving up his body and blood. But this particular moment in Gilead moves away from this deeper meaning and takes an unexpectedly lighthearted approach, representing an intimate moment of Ames’ family memories. When one thinks about it everything is rather dark at this time of Ames’ life. The circumstances of this situation are all rather ironic from what would be expected of a priest and his son. They are in search of the body of Ames’ grandfather (even though Ames’ father “always said when someone dies the body is just a suit o fold clothes the spirit doesn’t want anymore.”) and his father is forced to steal carrots (although, he left a dime on the doorstep to pay for them) (14). The times are extremely hard and the two men had “both gotten thin and [their] clothes were in bad shape” yet in this one particular moment they are able to find humor in their situation in that “all they [were] about to receive” was so little (15). This is one of the first experiences of flourishing that Ames presents to the readers an it focuses on the importance of family, God, and gratitude for what you have in being able to flourish even in the most dreadful circumstances.

The Epistolary Style in Gilead

By writing this novel in the epistolary style, Marilynn Robinson immediately conveys a fundamental character trait of the narrator, John Ames. That trait is the “habit of writing [that] is so deep in [him]” (40). In line with revealing this kind of truth about the narrator, essentially truth is the accomplishment of the style as a whole. The reliability of our narrator is rather trusted because of the acute presence of his mortality. In a sense, this letter to his son is the last chance he has to show himself to his son as opposed to his son learning about Ames from others (another advantage of the epistolary style). The motive for Ames to lie is minute because as a holy and religious man lying at this moment would not only contradict the value set that he is hoping to convey to his son, it would also jeopardize his salvation in violating one of The Ten Commandments (bear false witness).

Though Ames does admit to allowing others to maintain various misconceptions about him, he says it is because he “choose[s] not to disillusion... the kindly imaginings of [his] flock” (40). As a preacher, Ames’ private life is insinuated to be shielded and he is “a little bit apart” from the congregation yet they “tell [him] the most remarkable things” (5). Ames’ intention is to let his son see all that is “underneath the surface of his life” (6). He seemingly intends to correct mistruths and be fully transparent, telling his son that he is “not a saint... [and he] gets much more respect than [he] deserves” (39). This kind of transparency with his son carries throughout the novel in which Ames states his goal to be to convey “a bit of fatherly knowledge... the Lord’s truth, and the things [he] knows from [his] own long experience” (139).

Some of the facets that come along with the epistolary style are repetition and a colloquial tone. The repetition stems from the recursive memory of the narrator: certain events that he thinks on often come up more than once and their significance is bolstered in this repetition as it asks the reader to think about their inner meaning more than once. Additionally, by referencing the same event more than once is emphasizes his reliability and transparency as a narrator as he is genuinely just writing what comes to his mind that he deems significant. That being said, while it is probable that Ames intent is to truthfully relay his memories to the best of his abilities, one should note that memories may not be identical to what actually happened as they are likely to have blurred and deteriorated over time. The colloquial tone of the novel is an interesting pairing with some of the heavier topics it deals with. Nevertheless this tone conveys the intimacy that Ames holds only with his son and again emphasizes his intent to be completely open and truthful in this letter intended only for his son. Going along with the colloquial tone, Ames cites many family stories and memories as a way of preserving them for his son before he dies. This colloquialism however is counteracted by the many sources drawn upon by Ames in detail including the Bible, Fuerbach, Barth, Calvin, Donne, Emerson, and many more. These sources combined with the fundamental life principles dealt with in this novel combined with family anecdotes and the casual tone allows for an extremely complex and powerful work that would not be possible without the epistolary style and the intimacy between the narrator and the reader.

Winters: Poetry as a Marxist Statement

The use of allusions in the poems of Anne Winters give the poems a real-world basis and escalates them from merely poems into political statements. As such, these allusions indicate Winters’ marxist beliefs in one of the most evident ways. They connect to elements present in the lives of the readers such as the New York Times and even the normality of an every morning coffee drinking and paper reading routine. By connecting to the reader so personally, Winters applies her theme to the reality of the readers.

Additionally by placing “the displaced of capital” in everyday settings, Winters is playing on the call and response function of poetry. Focusing on the poem sharing the title of the collection, The Displaced of Capital, Winters repeats “the displaced of capital has come to the capital” to indicate to readers that the problem is coming to them. Additionally, Winters applies possessive pronouns to public places to reinforce the element of familiarity with “Broadway, [her] café, and [her] table” (12). The effects of the author’s (and consequently the readers’) normality is having a negative impact on the “old country,” calling readers to become aware of the consequences of the human capital system. Supplementally, Winters draws upon pathos to connect the reader more emotionally to the issues in An Immigrant Woman by referencing a personal story complete with imagery of “a machine-gunned death heap in the center of a village” (15).

Phillip Levine & Anne Winters: Portraying Human Capital

They Feed They Lion, while as "crafty" as Winter's poems offers a much bleaker view of the human capital system both poems describe (Chiasson). The most obvious aspect which differs is the language used; Winters uses flowery, beautiful words (yes such as "faerique"), poetic terminology including her entire section of poems entitled "A Sonnet Map of Manhattan" and the poem entitled “Villanelle,” as well as foreign words and quotes such as the quote by Francis of Assusi in the opening of Cold-Water Flats. Levine, while he does use frequent repetition and even alliteration, uses much darker language or at the very least more savage language as he paints a picture of the scene of the Detroit racial riots, "from the ferocity... furred, full jowl." Furthermore, he uses the dialect of the working class whose viewpoint he writes from most notably in the namesake phrase "they feed they lion."

It is interesting to note that both poems highlight a comparison and a contrast in portraying the wake of human capital: They Feed They Lion captures many southern aspects including the pig imagery as well as the diction used in the title to the quite different urban way of life of "creosote, gasoline, drive shafts, [and] wooden dollies." This contrast alludes to the great Northern Migration likely made by many of the workers from the South in search of work. Their jobs have defined their environment as they are human capital. Both northern and southern elements feed the lion, indicating the pasts and presents of the workers are what is fueling the system, or feeding the lion. Winters contrasts the dismal working scene to the rich imagery of New York City or puts the labor in the background of another occurrence, even when Winters is having her coffee at a café in The Displaced of Capital, the newspaper makes her aware of the South American labor that has made it possible for her to enjoy it. While both poets deal with labor scenes, Levine is more subtle about his main message concerning human capital because his poem's subject is comparatively much more narrow and specific than the coverage of Winters' poems which deal with human capital in New York but also to the Nicaragua and other global destinations dealt with in the paper--essentially human capital everywhere. Consequently, Winters tends to spell out exactly what she is referring to, for example by utilizing titles (i.e. The Displaced of Capital) or capitalizing important words and phrases (i.e. "LABOR"). Levine's subject is made obvious to be a lion through repetition, the title of his poem, and the questionable grammar used in the phrase that highlights its oddness. Nevertheless, knowing that the poem is about a lion suggests little about the poem’s true theme without focusing on the context in which the lion is placed. In masking his subject in a metaphor it may still be accurately determined to what Levine is writing because his scope is so particular as aforementioned, but it requires readers to probe the poem for deeper meaning as opposed to merely accepting that it is about the race riots of Detroit.

Humans Versus Capital: The Mill-Race by Anne Winters

In classifying human beings as capital, Winters draws a sharp distinction between the two (that is, what is human versus what is labor and capital) and then immediately blurs this division into disappearance. By setting up these two ideas as so diverse in what they encompass, the readers perceive them more as two overarching themes in opposition with each other. Also Winters employs diction that signifies and us versus them mentality between the two camps; it sets them largely at opposition with one in danger of being “taken altogether” (4). The broad camps painted by Winters of humanity and the mill, the two opposing yet eventually symbiotic ideas of the poem, become evident as larger themes are accented by the diversity encompassed in each category. For instance, in The Mill-Race the mill is at first a water mill, then a paper mill, and eventually a flour and salt mill. The poet is referring to the same subject yet the fact that this mill could seemingly be any type of mill without much effective difference indicates that the important aspect of it is that it is a mill or a system of LABOR (which Winters emphasizes as the only all capitalized phrase in the poem). Likewise, in terms of the human aspects of the poem Winters pays meticulous attention to distinguishing details, ethnicities, attire and other attributes. “White girls... black girls... and some from Easter Island,” Winters initially pays close attention to the individuality of these individuals making up the society of the poem. However, this begins to be “absorbed” as they lose this diversity and become merely a part of the machinery of labor and the generalized mill. 

Interestingly enough, Winters mirrors this shift by at first referring to people as wholes and then referring to their parts “thigh on thigh, waist on waist” in the same manner they would be classified if they were machines (3). Note how above, it was mentioned that labor is the only phrase entirely capitalized in the poem. This is because labor becomes the primary theme of the poem, encompassing of the opposing force of the individuals propelling it as it “churns [them] altogether” making their individualities inconsequential. This statement about the mill and moreover about labor in the form of the poem’s themes mirrors what Winters sees happening in society. This can be summarized in one line from the poem: “Nothing’s really leftover, really, from labor. They’ve taken it all for the mill-race” (4). Thus, labor becomes the all-encompassing camp. It eliminates the need for the ethnically identified restaurants such as “O’Donnell’s, Beirut Cafe, [and] Yonah’s Knish” (4). Furthermore, it fully sucks in all individuals of all ages at all hours, even “the old man at the kiosk starts his late shift,” and as many are riding the bus home from work many others are just on there way (4). All of these characteristics play into the inescapability of labor which Winters accents with the storm occurring in the background to make the picture of life more grim and undeniably owing itself only to labor.