Let Your Hair Down and fall to the ground

So Lydia, Pauline, and I did a panel presentation on this theme in Song of Solomon, but I felt the need to expand on the topic a little more. The article we read talked about the role of hair and how it tends to drag certain characters down as it dictates how they choose to live their lives. This article primarily contrasts Pilate and Hagar, and how they affect Milkman, the central character in the narrative. Ever since their breakup, Hagar makes it her own quest to find out the reason behind Milkman’s sudden dislike of her. Once she sees his arms around a mystery woman with “silky copper-colored hair” (127), she assumes that her hair was the only problem in their relationship. She asks her mother and grandmother, “Why don’t he like my hair?” (315), convinced that Milkman will only date women who have “silky hair the color of a penny” (315). Both Pilate and Reba try to convince her that there is no way for Milkman to not like her hair, but to no avail, for Hagar has let her hair define her and decide how she will live her life. She baths, brushes her hair, and sets out to buy new clothes and makeup, to create a new person, one who could re-attract Milkman.

This contrasts with Hagar’s grandmother, Pilate, who freed herself from the chains of hair a while back. When she was younger and struggling dealing with her deformity, she turned to secrecy as she hid her navel-less stomach from the world, even from a lover whom she bore a child with. Finally, when she realizes that enough is enough and decides to embrace the fact that she has no navel, and that there’s nothing she can change about it, she decides to chop off all of her hair. Her hair signified the secret part of her life that was only weighing her down. Instead of hiding behind her hair, she cuts it off, freeing her body and becoming truly open to the world. After this moment, Pilate decides to keep her hair short, habitually having Reba cut it when it gets too long. It seems as though Reba follows the steps of Pilate, not bothered by their family’s difference from others, but this isn’t the same with Hagar. Before Milkman was born, when Ruth visits Pilate to ask her how she should deal with Macon II, she walks in on Reba cutting Pilate’s hair while Hagar sits on the floor. Ruth describes Hagar as being “four or five years old then. Chubby, with four long braids, two like horns over each ear, two like tails at the back of her neck” (131). Even before she meets Milkman, Ruth can see these devil-like qualities in Hagar and her hair. Morrison does a great job using this scene to foreshadow Hagar’s downward spiral into darkness and desperation.

In order to attain the love she desires from Milkman, Hagar decides to let her hair control her as she changes her whole look to fit, what she assumes as, Milkman’s view as an attractive woman. She conforms to the white American ideal of beauty in hope of receiving love and affection. Unlike her grandmother, who confidently defies societal norms in almost every aspect of her life, Hagar becomes obsessed with emulating this mystery “silky copper-colored” (127) haired woman, shielding her true self away from the world.

Now, at the end of the novel, it is apparent that Milkman is a changed man; significantly different from the man who broke up with Hagar. He comes to a realization as he helps Pilate burry her father’s bones in his hometown. Once Guitar shoots Pilate, and she is dying in Milkman’s arms, Milkman has a revelation. “Now he knew why he loved her so. WIthout ever leaving the ground, she could fly” (336). Milkman realizes that, even though she doesn’t follow the typical norm of american beauty, Pilate embodies strength, confidence, and comfortability, traits that he appreciates and, in the end, loves. Milkman realizes that he doesn’t find the fake white American beauty ideal very attractive and that he much more appreciates the authentic, african american hairstyle, one that only strong characters are able to proudly wear and not feel ashamed. Milkman sees that he is in love (not necessarily in a sexual manner) with Pilate and her ability to stay strong and true to herself, even if she is being ridiculed and ostracized by those around her. But even as a changed man with this realization, if Hagar were still alive, I don’t think Milkman would take her back because of her character that is vastly different from Pilate’s. She is so conscious of what others around her think that she doesn’t take the time to take pride in her own self. This sort of weak character reminds Milkman of his mother, who he also isn’t very fond of either (or is at least indifferent too).

In the end, Pilate is able to take control of her hair by cutting it off, while Hagar lets her hair define her. Even as she buys countless products to hide her apparent flaws and insecurities, as she walks home, the rain washes away all the lies and shows the devil that has been festering beneath all these years. If Milkman had had the time to sit down and talk with Hagar as a changed man, her downward spiral may not have been so drastic. But as Milkman flies away on his own quest and find his true, future self, he leaves a stagnant Hagar in the mud, as she tries to fly, but just can’t seem get her feet off the ground.

Crazy BIG Thing Called Love

As we are reading through Milkman’s and Hagar’s relationship, one can’t help but see direct parallels to Rochester’s and Antoinette’s relationship in Wide Sargasso Sea. The term “crazy love” is very much applicable in these situations as we see both females driven to insanity by the affection they have for their partners. Antoinette’s insanity came from constantly being rejected by Rochester. He claims to never have loved her from the start as he constantly shoves her love and affection away. Antoinette tries seemingly everything to win Rochester over, but he sees her as an animal and disgrace to him. In the end, he takes her forcefully back to England, where he locks her in his attic and tries to forget about her. He lets her crazy love fester until she passes the point of saving as she finally bursts and sets the house on fire, cleansing with flames.

Although there are some differences between Milkman’s and Hagar’s relationship and Antoinette’s and Rochester’s, at least the female roles tend to follow the same paths down the rabbit hole. In Milkman’s and Hagar’s case, the relationship was initially based off of love. MIlkman initially claims to being drawn to Hagar the first time he laid eyes on her, saying that “[he] had no need to see her face; he had already fallen in love with her behind” (43). After that day, Milkman and Hagar were in a, seemingly open, relationship for around twenty years. But, over time, as Hagar’s attraction seemed to have grown, Milkman’s disintegrated as he fell out of love with her. Surprisingly, the main reason he loses his attraction is not because they are related, but because it has become too easy. All his life, most things have come easy to Milkman. His job and his status have both just been given to him with ease. At first, his relationship with Hagar was a “challenge” because it seemed as though Hagar wasn’t as into him as he was to her. But over time, she realized how much she truly cared for him and wanted to be with him, while he realized that there are other fish in the sea that will provide a better chase for him in life. It’s a sad realization, but I can see if the relationship wasn’t doing anything for him, it’s best for him to try and move on so as not to live his life a lie. So, the thoughts behind the breakup isn’t the thing that bothers me in this situation, which I’m guessing is true for most people, it’s more how he chooses to execute his break up. He writes a “heartfelt” letter and shoves some cash for good luck, stating “thank you for all you have meant to me. For making me happy all these years” (99). In this letter, Milkman basically thanks Hagar for serving him for twenty-some years. Hagar has basically been laid off, like a worker, seemingly having outgrown her services. Milkman has decided to find someone else who can serve him better. It’s a sick thought that reflects badly on Milkman’s character.

This break up letter sends Hagar off the cliff of insanity as she makes it her end goal to kill Milkman (or so others believe). Although it may seem like Hagar’s end goal is the murder Milkman, it is quite the contrary. She just wants him back; she’d kill to have him back in her arms. Killing him is only a way she can see to hurt him, but she doesn’t want him dead because she wants him to love her once more. Her love for him has turned into an obsession as she sets out every month in search of Milkman and his love. People even noticed her as they state that, “Hagar ‘done took off after Milkman again’” (128). But Hagar’s actions are to no avail as, even when she has a knife raised, Milkman denies her and tells her to make it easier on both of them and kill herself. His words pierce harder than any knife ever could and Hagar assumably runs away again back to her house where she’ll probably plan her next murder plan. Milkman doesn’t seem to grasp the idea that he has driven this woman past insanity. It isn’t till Guitar asks him what the hell he did to this woman that has made her this way. Milkman doesn’t see the consequences of his actions because he’s never been punished for them. His life has been easy going, never told if what he’s doing is wrong or right, so he just assumes the latter, which ends up hurting those around him.

Another interesting similarity between Hagar’s and Antoinette’s situation is that they both have magical, motherly figures that they can turn to. Antoinette has Christophine, who has been her main motherly figure her entire life. When desperate times called for desperate measures, Antoinette turns to Christophine and her Obeah to save her marriage. She has Christophine make her a love potion that will bring back that apparent initial spark between her and Rochester. Little does she know, according to Rochester, there was no spark, and this magical act only brings the two even further apart and brings their marriage crashing down (as if it wasn’t already).

Similarly, Hagar has Pilate. Pilate seems to have some kind of her own obeah up her sleeve as she demonstrates by temporarily saving Ruth’s and Macon’s relationship. She conjures up this love potion that ends up bringing more action into the two’s marriage as Ruth finds herself later pregnant with Milkman. By doing this, Pilate helps Ruth to give birth to a son, an heir for the family, one whom Macon can truly bond with. But, up to this point, Hagar has yet to turn to Pilate and her magic to save her relationship with Milkman. This is seemingly because Hagar wants to distance herself from her family as much as possible. From the beginning, she shows her embarassment to be related to Pilate and Reba. Fortunately, Pilate doesn’t take offense to this as she only has the best for Hagar in mind.

In both of these novels, the men seem to be the catalysts of love’s insanity. Both men don’t take the time to see things from the other side and so they shoo away the women and try to move on. This action ends up driving both women past the point of insanity as both feel the need to behave frantically and irrationally in order to try and receive the love and attention they crave.

Battle of the Houses

The connection Milkman feels towards Pilate is obviously different from any other relationship he has with other characters in the book. Even upon initial sight, Milkman feels draw to Pilate and her mystic contrast from the Dead family. She represents Macon Dead II’s role; the head of the family. But, instead of being greedy and oppressive as Macon has proved to be, Pilate is more supportive and caring, less concerned with money and more focused on the security, openness, and protection of her family. Macon feels the need to be controlling in order to be strong, whereas Pilate is able to be strong without being oppressive and mean. Even though she is the mother of the family, to Milkman’s surprise, she is totally different from the mother of his family. Ruth tends to be a weak figure in the Dead family, whereas Pilate is a strong, fearless woman who is able to provide a open, loving, and sharing environment for her child and grandchild.

Before even meeting Pilate, Milkman seemed to have his own expectations of the woman and her household. Being raised in a family that emphasises the power of money and status, knowing that his aunt was poor, he expected her to appear and act as such. Since Milkman is of higher status than her, he also expected a little bit of jealousy or reverence for how well off he and his family is. But, this is so not the case. In fact, it’s almost the exact opposite. Pilate isn’t even the slightest impressed with who Milkman is. Milkman ends up feeling shameful because he believes that he has social leverage over Pilate, but Pilate doesn’t seem to acknowledge, or even believe, that. “Shame has flooded him. He had expected to feel it, but not that kind; to be embarrassed, yes, but not that way. She was the one who was ugly, dirty, poor, and drunk...instead she was making fun of his school, of his teachers, of him” (37-38). He had expected her to be like his father (since they are brother and sister), but since she’s less well off, he thought she’d be worse. But, on the contrary, she is better than his father. She is more accepting and enjoyable to be around.

This is part of Pilate’s philosophy that initially freaks Milkman out, but he comes to accept and enjoy it. Throughout his life, ever since he was “blessed” with his infamous nickname, Milkman has always been forced to live life in the past. He has never been able to completely move on because his family won’t let him. The Dead family has always been stuck in the past because that is where they’re are comfortable in. As seen in the Sunday drive scene, all the father can think about is Ruth’s actions in the past, and so he punishes her in the present and future. Milkman is literally and figuratively stuck between them, riding backwards facing his past and unable to escape and focus on the future. In Pilate’s household, the matter of acceptance is very important. It doesn’t matter where you’re from or your background, what’s important is your present actions and how they will affect your future. As Pilate introduces this philosophy as she disregards Milkman’s economic status and treats him as though he were on the same level as her. Initially, Milkman feels that this sort of treatment is disrespectful, for it causes him to feel shameful and embarrassed, an emotion he would have expected Pilate to feel more than him. But, over time, Milkman seems to appreciate this philosophy as he feels a sense of comfortability as he bonds with Pilate and her family. The family’s collaborative nature proves to be a stark difference to the Dead family’s independent nature. Their confidence is almost contagious as Milkman begins to feel more comfortable with defying his father’s words and visiting the house more often than not.

By experiencing this huge contrast in families, it seems to me that Milkman feels more comfortable being with Pilate’s family rather than his own. Even though they are poor, they aren’t concerned with money. They are secure with themselves and can live a happy life, free of financial worries. Whereas, Macon can’t seem to get money out of his mind. Pilate’s family provides a loving community, while Macon’s is more emphasizes on solidarity. It will be interesting to see if Milkman will drift more towards Pilate’s family as his becomes more and more polarized as they all grow older.

Picking Sides at a Family Dinner is Never a Good Idea

In all my life as a semi-avid reader, I have almost always felt the need to pick sides with either a character or an argument. Usually I find it pretty easy to go with my gut, but the Dead family has proved this to be difficult, seeing as they have run my brain around in circles while I’m still trying to make sense of the situation at hand. This paired with Toni Morrison’s way of mentioning details, and then waiting to fully explain them later on, completely clouds my conscience as I attempt to lift this dense fog.

A pivotal scene that proves to be the center of my confusion is the Dead family dinner. (God, that just sounds weird even to type). From an outside perspective, we just see a wife telling a story that aggravates her husband so much that he chooses to hit her. After witnessing this, the grown up son decides to stand up for his powerless mother by striking his father, asserting his dominance as the new head of the house. In this instance, I would definitely side with the son who is finally able to speak up against his father’s tyranny and provide a sense of safety to the household...But, oh noooo is that not the case. We are also given an inside perspective and can see the real workings behind this family’s fueled emotions.

First, we have Macon Dead II. We are aware that he is a very dominant figure in the Dead household, seemingly having his eyes set on money and reputation. He even makes his family take those ostentatious Sunday drives in order to parade he and his family throughout the streets, showing off not only his family but the wealth he has required in his career. But another unsettling aspect of Macon is the way he treats his family, specifically his wife. We are told that he physically abuses Ruth and are even given a snapshot of his actions at the Dead family dinner. He strikes Ruth after she says “I certainly am my daddy’s daughter” (67), adding a smile at the end for good measure. After reading this, I found myself really despising Macon for his uncalled for, ruthless behavior. But, once Milkman responds by hitting his father, Macon goes to talk to Milkman and gives his the real reasons behind his actions.

Macon’s explanation about his wife’s weird affection towards her father, along with a scene we are given earlier where Ruth’s father explains the weirdness in his still kissing her goodnight even if she’s too old for it, help bring Macon’s actions into perspective. Although it is uncalled for for him to physically abuse his wife, I can see why he does it. Right before the scene, we are given information on how Ruth provokes Macon until he feels powerless and must turn to violence against her. She psychologically abuses him until he can only combat with physical abuse towards her. A theory to explain this odd behavior between this man and wife all lies in the children. As Macon has stated, he is happy that Milkman has been working with him, strengthening their bond as father and son. “Macon was delighted. His son belonged to him now and not to Ruth” (63). There seems to be an intense competition between Ruth and Macon over their children. Who can be the one to win them over? Well, it seems as though First Corinthians and Lena called Magdalene have already chosen sides after observing their parents’ unusual, abusive habits. “Lena thought Macon’s rages unaccountable. But Corinthians began to see a plan. To see how her mother had learned to bring her husband to a point, not of power, but of helplessness” (64). It’s now all down to Milkman. Milkman has chosen a stance of seemingly indifference, not really committing to a side. Even when he attacks his father, he states later that his actions were not out of love for his mother, but of simple decency; he just felt the need to help a frail, helpless human being, being his mother didn’t matter in the equation.

So, although my gut tells me to side with Ruth because of how she is constantly being kicked when she is down, I can’t help myself but understand Macon more because of how desperately he wants to connect with his son, the only person in his family he seems to really care about. (He seems indifferent towards his daughters. Probably because they resemble Ruth and possibly Dr. Foster). He is also the only person who has been subjected to Ruth’s hidden psychological torture. He struggles and feels the need to lash out at her, making him seem ruthless and tyrannical to those unaware of the real circumstances. But, then there’s Ruth, who has been physically beaten by her own husband multiple times and is unable to spend time alone with her own son because of his untrustworthy and misunderstanding nature. All in all, no good can come of this marriage. Both parties have obviously lost interest in each other and have turned to breaking each other down instead of finding an effective solution. By constantly fighting, their actions are tearing the Dead family apart. It will be interesting to see how the family relations turn out in the years (chapters) to come as the children grow older and begin to see things clearer.

Namely Names and Nicknames

As we’ve begun reading Song of Solomon, I find the little things Toni Morrison incorporates in her narrative that sets this book apart from the other novels we’ve read in this class very interesting. Although there are many underlying themes, some of which are briefly presented in the epigraph, one theme that I’ve questioned is the role of names. In the first chapter, we are introduced to very obscure names, some that we even question the sensibility of. (Guitar? Really? Pilate? Pilot? Pilates? Whatever.) Not only are these names unusual, but also the reasoning behind them is very abnormal.

First we have the line of Macon Deads. First, the name Macon Dead came from a mistake; a tired, drunken, white soldier wrote down everything Macon spoke in the wrong place on his information card. We aren’t even given Macon Dead I’s original name because it doesn’t matter, no one knows it and no one cares. So, to carry on the name, after Macon Dead I, there is Macon Dead II and Macon Dead III. Macon Dead II does stick with the name, sort of. He does work at a place called Sonny’s Shop, even though everyone barely remembers Sonny, the man who used to own the place. But most of the names seem to stick, even if people can’t remember how and why they came to be. This is apparent with Macon Dead III, referred to as Milkman, even though not many know why. Only Freddie, the janitor, (and Ruth) knows the origin of the name (because he came up with it), even Milkman’s own father, Macon Dead II, is unaware of the meaning of the name, but he dislikes it for its negative connotations. This belief is common among most people in the book; they don’t understand the meaning behind the nickname, but they use it anyway because it’s the social norm. It almost completely strips that person’s identity away with regards to their name. The name itself becomes obsolete as that part of a person’s identity becomes unimportant and just another false name in the grand scheme of things.

Another situation where we have a an unusual name is with Macon Dead II’s sister, Pilate Dead. (Pilate as in the man from the bible, not pilates as in a workout that is similar to yoga). Since there is an obvious biblical reference, one would assume that her name has deep meaning in the family...but that would be a wrong assumption. We are given in the first chapter that Pilate’s name is just a random choice. Macon Dead I turned to a random page in the Bible, stuck his finger down, and used the name closest to his finger. Ever after he was told about the the wrong implications of naming one of his children, a daughter to be exact, the name of the man who killed Jesus, he keeps the name anyways, ignoring the repercussions it could have on his daughter later in her life.

In modern society, people usually make a big deal over names. Couples can take up to months or years to decide what to name their children. In the Dead household, this is not the case. Names are chosen randomly or just nonchalantly stuck with, even if they are incorrect. Names both play an important and insignificant role in Song of Solomon at the same time. It’s interesting how names can overlap with the theme of racism in this novel. In Macon Dead I’s case, a white man gave him his name, a name is has stuck with and passed down through his family. All in all, although the names seem ridiculous, they can have some underlying unimportance, even if in the Dead family, they may be tossed aside and considered insignificant.