Appreciation and Dedication

One aspect of “Edison, New Jersey” that I found interesting was the narrator’s character. Throughout this book, we’ve read of these characters whom seem to have these seemingly low life jobs, and yet, they appreciate the work they do and even take pride in it. The narrator in “Edison, New Jersey” is no different. Even though he is only a pool table maker and deliverer, he appreciates the craft of building a pool table, along with many other aspects of his job. He knows all the hard word and dedication that goes into making a pool table. It’s his craft, his artform, and he’s forced to brush aside a customer’s nonchalant remarks so he can appreciate it for the real beauty it is. From the wooden legs to the felt top, the narrator marvels at it all. He won’t even think twice about sacrificing his job if it means advising a customer to buy a better pool table. This all makes it even more upsetting to know that the narrator, because of the financial situation he is and will assumably always be in, will never own one of these beauties himself.

So, why work at this place anyways? I mean, he’s had his offers. His ex-girlfriend’s father offered him a “real” job, one with utilities, one that could financially support him better than his current job. It just seems weird that the narrator doesn’t even seem tempted by the new job opportunity. Assumably, If he were to take it, he could possibly buy his own pool table, something he’s dreamed about but never believed could become possible. So why does he stay? I mean, it could be argued that the narrator doesn’t wanna leave his dear buddy Wayne. It seems as though Wayne has taken him under his wing so it would be a shame to just ditched him for more money. Wayne has helped the narrator get good at his job, as well as keep it when he’s in trouble. He sort of like the older brother that has the job of keeping the younger brother out of trouble. Kind of like how Rafa tries to teach Yunior the ropes of how to be a man and what to not say about their family situation. (Although, Rafa and Wayne seem to have different motives in their teaching). Wayne is like the narrator’s old mentor and he doesn’t want to leave until he’s learned any and every aspect of the trade.

But, I think it’s more than just Wayne that keeps the narrator at the pool table business. See, at this place, the narrator is in his element. He knows how to make the tables, what kinds of people he will deliver to, how to talk to these kinds of people (and how to take revenge on them), and all in all, how play the game. If he were to switch jobs, he wouldn’t have a clue what to do with himself, and he would have to learn how that specific trade works. Sure, the pool table business doesn’t pay too well, but that doesn’t seem to bother the narrator because he’s able to have a lot more fun than what is expected. He makes his life a series of games, ones that help him get through the day. The first game is the one he plays with the customers. See, these are rich people who are buying his product, so assumably, the narrator would be forced to be nice to them and cater to their needs and requests. But, no. “If the customer has been good and tipped well, we call it even and leave. If the customer has been an ass--maybe they yelled, maybe they let their kids throw golf balls at us--I ask for the bathroom” (123). The narrator sees how the customers act toward them, and then “pays” them back accordingly. If the customer has been an ass, let’s just hope that they blocked off their bathrooms because those will be a wreck once the narrator is done with them.

Now, if I were to hear about someone like this in real life who trash a paying customer’s bathroom if they didn’t received the right tip for their work, I would be really disgusted and uneasy about him and the business as a whole. But, because of how the narrator confides in us, making us seem like one of his best friends, I find myself okay with his actions. I mean, they aren’t very nice, so I don’t know why I am silently cheering him on as he “cram[s] bubble bath drops into [his] pockets and throw[s] fist-sized wads of toilet paper in the toilet. [He] take[s] a dump if [he] can and leave[s] that for them” (123). All together, this sounds pretty sadistic, and yet, as a reader, I’m okay with it. I suppose it’s because I sort of sympathize with the narrator and his situation in life. It kind of like how the narrator sympathizes for the girl at Pruitt’s house. He attempts to save her from this guy because he knows how people like him are treated in this world, and he doesn’t like that she has to go through with this kind of pain. He tries to provide her with an escape route, wanting her to be free from this guy. This is why, when the narrator calls the house and the girl answers, and he is very hurt. He wanted to give this girl a new life, but she has this sort of Stockholm syndrome situation, where she can’t seem to escape this guy’s clutches. Unlike the narrator, she doesn’t have other offers, other escape routes, so she is forced to become dependent on this man, a man whom she so desperately wants to be free from.

Another game that the narrator plays is at the end, when he and Wayne are trying to guess where they will end up delivering to the next day. A lot of people read this as a feeling of depression because it seems like the narrator doesn’t know where he’s going in life, but I didn’t really have the same negative thoughts. I mean, I could see how the narrator could get down at times because of the tough situation he’s in in life, but I more or less read this scene as more uplifting. Right before this, the narrator has just called Pruitt’s house, only to find that the girl answers, implying that she came back to Pruitt, even though all she wanted was to get away. This makes the narrator feel down because he knows what it feels like to feel trapped with no escape route, and all he wanted was to give her one, but it wasn’t enough. So, in order to cheer himself up, he plays this game with Wayne. His work day is over, the sun is going down, and he puts his finger down on “Edison, New Jersey”, knowing that even if they don’t go to Edison, tomorrow is a new day on the job. As the sun rises, so will he.

Now, I know that kind of reading of that scene sounds extremely cheesy, but it kind of makes sense. The narrator’s life is a little cheesy in the way that he stays with his job, knowing he could have a better one, because he loves his craft, his artform. Pool tables are his life, and he wouldn’t want to trade it for anything. He knows that he can make the best of his workday tomorrow and the others to come. It truly is quite inspiring how optimistic he is of his work. It kind of reminds me of Lorrie Moore’s, “How to be a Writer”, in that both narrators are so dedicated to their respective artforms that nothing/ no one can stand in their way.

So, even though on the outside, the narrator comes across as this guy who steals for pleasure and just wants to get with girls whom he finds pretty, since we are presented as best friends or some sort, we can see just how layered his character truly is. How deeply he cares for the art of pool tables and other people, people who suffer, not those who are too well off to care for others. He pities those who feel trapped in their lives, and so when given the chance of luxury over pleasure, he chooses pleasure. (Assuming that the utility job is at least a little more luxurious than his current pool table job). He chooses emotional happiness through little games over material happiness, knowing that others don’t have same choices in life.