In the city I never hid in bathrooms; I didn't like them, they were too hard and white. The only city place I can remember hiding is behind opened doors at birthday parties. I despised them, the pew-purple velvet dresses with antimascara lace collars and the presents, voices going Oooo with envy when they were opened, and the pointless games, finding a thimble or memorizing clutter on a tray. There were only two things you could be, a winner or a loser; the mothers tried to rig it so everyone got a prize, but they couldn't figure out what to do about me because I wouldn't play. At first I ran away, but after that my mother said I had to go, I had to learn to be polite, "civilized" as she called it. So I watched from behind the door. When I finally joined in a game of musical chairs I was welcomed with triumph, like a religious convert or political defector. (Atwood 81)
Here we have another diversion into the narrator's childhood, and yet again it's pretty weird. Granted, one's childhood behavior isn't always a reliable indicator of one's adult life, but in this case it's the combination of the story and the way it's expressed that give some insight into the narrator's mental state. To start, there's that opening phrase and it's immediate transition. The narrator has been hiding in an outhouse to avoid "Evans and the explanation and negotiations." (Atwood 81) The logical way for this train of thought to progress would probably be straight to the information about birthday parties, but the narrator adds her personal opinion on bathrooms: the almost nonsensical "I didn't like them, they were too hard and white."
Next, the narrator betrays the fact that she not only hated the games played at birthday parties at the time, but she continues to view them as "pointless," despite being many years removed from the possibility of playing. She's non-judgmental about the behavior of the mothers of the birthday children, perhaps indicating that she has no real insight into their motives or emotions. Finally, the passage ends with a strange comparison, as the narrator claims she was "welcomed with triumph, like a religious convert or political defector." This imagery indicates that the narrator feels (or possibly thinks that everyone else at the party feels) as if her deigning to join their birthday game takes some sort of fundamental change of beliefs. It's like she'd be going against some core part of her personality (as would a political defector or religious convert) just by joining in the fun.
Questions:
1. There's an emphasis on texture and color in this paragraph: "hard and white," "pew-purple velvet," "antimascara lace." Significant or just run of the mill description?
2. On birthday games: "There were only two things you could be: a winner or a loser." Agree or disagree? What's the point of birthday games?
I wouldn't classify her description as nonsensical by any means. I feel that her description of them as hard and white is a strong parallel to her own inability to connect with her surroundings. If you've ever used a bathroom in a fancy city-owned building, they are often very fancy, but also very rigid and cold. Though they are nice, they are very impersonal, designed much differently than how someone would choose to have a bathroom in their own home designed.
ReplyDeleteAs for the birthday games, I don't feel that they are designed to divide winners from losers, but they certainly do divide them. I think that her cynicism is another reflection of her separation from the people around her, in this case her peers. Even with someone guiding positive interaction and other children's willingness to involve her, she still feels cast out and unmotivated to participate.
It's interesting how she says "winner or loser" and then contradicts herself by saying the mother's rig it so everyone will win. No one can lose, yet she still focuses on the hierarchy.
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