Jean Toomer

Jean Toomer personifies the hell out of things. The pines whisper, white folks’ mouths talk instead of people talking, like Humbert Humbert’s fingers, eyes leave sockets, fear goes and closes a mind, a street is a bastard, not a street, and it breathes air and has skin and bone. It made me wonder where all the people were.

Even when they were there, they weren’t. In the first sentence of “Becky”, a distinction is made between the skin color of the mother and of the sons, which forces the reader to wonder how that came about, voiced by the repeated question of “Who gave it to her?” Becky is barely a human. She is only defined physically. We know she has white skin, has the stomach of a pregnant woman and sunken, scraggly features. But then once she goes to the cabin, where “No one ever saw her”, we are left with nothing of her. Since she has only been given to us physically, she ceases to exist as a human once that is taken away and she is unseen.

At the end of the excerpt, the de-personification is completed when we hear of “the Becky cabin”. Even her name is divorced from personhood and assigned to a building. Her death/life is disconnected from the actual breath and beating heart and soul of a person. Her existence hinges on smoke and bricks. Every thing has been given life and authority and every person has been robbed of it.

The type of metaphors used also take the place of some straightforward human element. The metaphors consist of the action of objects- a girl’s words are falling pink petals. We are not told the emotion or content that they hold, but instead what they would do if they were flowers, as we are told they in fact are. Paul, in this story, is not described as “floating”, “being on cloud 9”, “superior” even, or simply “happy”, any other word that would describe his state. Instead, we read that, “Above them, worlds of shadow-planes and solids, silently moving. As if on one of these, Paul looks down on Bona.” (Which I also found interesting due to the first sentence’s verblessness and the second’s use of the present tense, which holds up throughout the excerpt.) So Paul is moving silently on a plane or solid, whatever that means. Looking down at the girl. The narration of this story is omniscient, but from the viewpoint of an alien, or a material object that is telling a story of humans.

I wondered about Toomer’s use of ellipses. Were they to signify someone speaking? The pauses they could create seem pointed, since they were usually followed by quick exclamation or repeated phrase such as “they too joined hands to cast her out. . . The pines whispered to Jesus. .” and “Wedges rust in soggy wood. . . Split it! In two! Again! Shred it! . . the sun”. These short, scattered sentences clearly add to the ‘impressionism’- they are impressionistic, quick glances at the world. But is that the only reason and application? Is impressionism like pointillism, consisting of the sum of its tiny, disparate parts? Could a different approach to structure still be impressionistic, or are these short yet forthcoming phrases, definitely not furtive or reticent, the only way to allow room to turn around?