The Music of Song of Solomon

"Jake the only son of Solomon
Come booba yalle, come booba tambee
Whirled about and touched the sun
Come konka yalle, come konka tambee

Left that baby in a white man's house
Come booba yalle, come booba tambee
Heddy took him to a red man's house
Come konka yalle, come konka tambee

Black lady fell down on the ground
Come booba yalle, come booba tambee
Threw her body all around
Come konka yalle, come konka tambee

Solomon and Ryna Belali Shalut
Yaruba Medina Muhammet too.
Nestor Kalina Saraka cake.
Twenty-one children, the last one Jake!

O Solomon don't leave me here
Cotton balls to choke me
O Solomon don't leave me here
Buckra's arms to yoke me

Solomon done fly, Solomon done gone
Solomon cut accross the sky, Solomon gone home."

- "Song of Solomon" (pg. 303)

As a writer whose prose often resembles an immense work of lyrical craft it is perhaps no surprise that music plays a critical role in Toni Morrison’s novels. For the characters of Morrison’s Song of Solomon the singing of music and the history woven into those songs serve as both an important cultural vessel and a catalyst for emotional resolution.

One interesting thing to preface this is to note that in many ways, music isn’t just an aspect of Song of Solomon, but a framework for it. As Morrison herself stated about the central Sugarman song in the novel, “…that was always part of the folklore of my life; flying was one of our gifts. I don't care how silly it may seem. It is everywhere -- people used to talk about it, it's in the spirituals and gospels. Perhaps it was wishful thinking -- escape, death, and all that. But suppose it wasn't. What might it mean? I tried to find out in Song of Solomon” (LeClair).

Something that Morrison explores throughout the novel is the idea that the songs themselves are used to carry stories throughout generations of black people. This is an idea that is closely tied into the actual folklore that Morrison references. For traditional African music, the lyrics were often meant to pass on familial stories as well cultural touchstones that were otherwise impossible to keep track of in their society (Wilentz). For the character Milkman, for example, he literally discovers that one of the key moments in his family history is chronicled in a song. This is deeply rooted in African music, where history was often an oral tradition rather than a written one (Levine).

Like in Song of Solomon, the songs were often closely intertwined with mythic or folkloric elements. Songs used symbolic imagery or fantastical events to transfer not only the literal events but also the feeling of the historical events being documented (Levine).

The music in Song of Solomon bears a tremendous emotional weight for its characters that is in many ways linked with the historical use of music in African culture. In fact, Morrison argued herself in an interview that music was "for a long time, the art form that was healing for Black people” (Visvis). In other words, black music is seen as a sort of “talking cure” in which the weight of individual problems is alleviated through traditional songs as a form of catharsis (Visvis). This can be seen most explicitly through Pilate who receives both internal and literal direction through singing.

For many Africans and early African-American’s the use of music was one of the only ways to achieve a collection expression of their burdens (Visvis). Morrison acknowledges this in Song of Solomon – perhaps the most powerful example is Pilate singing for Hagar during her funeral. Unable to find the words to express her grief, she taps into music to channel a timeless sorrow that exists not only in the novel but also in the very real history era the Morrison’s characters inhabit.

The development of African American music is strongly rooted, developmentally, in the history of slavery. While slaves were adapting to the customs of the foreign culture that they were restricted to, they preserved their traditional culture which led to the creation of African American music. Entering into unknown territory, the African Americans were unsure of how to gain their identity, so they held onto who they were and also discovered new cultural concepts to grow off of and that allowed them to stand by their identity.From the beginning of slavery, what was called cross fertilization allowed the slaves in North America to take Western European and Western African music and produce their own style of African American music. African slaves grasped the image of their own culture’s beauty not only through music but also through the artistic modes of art, dance and storytelling. Western European forms of music, such as folk songs, orchestra music and operas, were the most well known developments in this cross fertilization. This style of music, for African Americans, emerged into jazz, gospels and work songs, which were songs or rhythms to assist the workers in completing their tasks. Since the African Americans took other arrangements and created their own style of music, songs were of great importance to the slaves, as this is something that gave them an existence of their own and molded them as their own unique civilization. It is also of great importance that the a culture such as the Western Europeans was able to share what they have built as their own and contribute their knowledge to the slaves, who came into a foreign territory with no identity, and no way of constructing a unique name for themselves. While religion influenced the slaves' acceptance of Western European music, the slaves had no opportunity to branch off into other cultural ideas. Therefore they learned to affiliate with the spirituality of European music, which later transformed into the African American music that is listed above. The Western Europeans and the African Americans could easily depict two very diverse spiritual backgrounds, but the African Americans developed their own belief of music off of what the Western Europeans had established for themselves.(Davis)

In modern culture musical expression continues to be a prevalent component of African American communication. To understand the significance of music to a society it must first be noted that music is “ideological” (Conyers). In times of social change it “gives direction to the social reconstruction of that society” (Conyers). When jazz first started at the turn of the twentieth century the African American community took the restrictions of classical music and dismissed them. This rejection mirrored the political and social movements of the era.

Following this revolution the musical culture of blacks reemerged in western culture; so that it was “both critical and analytical of the social substance of the society” (Conyers). The jazz movement was far reaching and expressive.

Continuing the historical relevance of African American music, in the late 1970’s, the first rap music emerged. This movement surfaced to depict the struggle of urban living in the black community. William Eric Perkins describes rap music as an “ongoing and bewildering love/hate relationship with American society” (Eric Perkins).

The rap culture impacts many areas of our entire society, including our music, our clothes, and our speech. Musical expression through rap allows the underrepresented black community to expose its ideals and political views to the larger society. Rap is a complaint from the inner city black communities and much of its strength comes from the large and multiethnic audience that it holds. Rap embodies a controversial culture of drugs, sex and political views. From the beginning of this nation music has been used as a means to communicate the most essential revolutions of the time period and this continues today.

Works Cited

LeClair, Thomas. "The Language Must Not Sweat: A Conversation with Toni Morrison." Taylor-Guthrie 119-128.

Conyers, James. (2001). African american jazz and rap socail and philosophical examinations of black expressive behavior. Jefferson, NC: McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers.

Davis, Nathan. (1996). African american music: a Philosophical look at African American Music in Society. Simon and Schuster Custom Publishing.

Levine, Lawrence W. Black Culture and Black Consciousness. New York: Oxford University Press, 1977.

Eric Perkins, William . (1996). Droppin science; 11 critical essays on rap music and hip hop culture, . Retrieved fromhttp://books.google.com/books?id=zGC_ZNOrKDwC&pg=PA151&dq=Droppin+Science%3B+11+Critical+Essays+on+Rap+Music+and+Hip+Hop+Culture&hl=en&ei=HWzITIbyO9ChngfzyvSpAQ&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=1&ved=0CCsQ6AEwAA#v=onepage&q&f=false

Stapleton, Katina . (1999). From the margins to mainstream: the political power of hip-hop. Media, Culture and Society, 20(219), Retrieved from http://mcs.sagepub.com/content/20/2/219.short

Visvis, V. (2008). Alternatives to the "talking cure": Black music as traumatic testimony in toni morrison's song of solomon. African American Review, 42(2), 255.

Wilentz, Gay. "Civilizations Underneath: African Heritage and Cultural Discourse in Toni Morrison's Song of Solomon." African American Review 26.1 (1992): 61-76.

Influential African-American Thinkers and Their Relation to Morrison's Characters

W. E. B. Du Bois:

The plot of Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison is deeply integrated into the history of African American culture and ideology in pre-civil rights America. When analyzing this novel through a historical lens, it is apparent that many of Morrison’s characters are similar in thought, if not representative of key leaders of African American during this time of bloodshed. One of these leaders, W. E. B. Du Bois, is particularly evident in this book as fragments of his ideas can be seen throughout the book. Of his main ideas, “black separatism” and “double-consciousness” particularly echo in that rational of Guitar Bains. Similar to Bains, Du Bois held a deep pride, and was adamant about not simply integrating into “Anglo-Saxon” society, but instead wanted African-Americans “to preserve and develop enough racial distinctiveness to enable them to maintain and foster a sense of racial identity; community; and pride” (Wolters, 2). You can see this pride of his community and race echoed in Guitar’s explanation of why he runs missions for the “Seven Days” when he says “No love? No love? Didn’t you hear me? What I’m doing ain’t about hating white people. It’s about loving us. About loving you. My whole life is love” (Morrison, 159). Guitar’s “love” of his community and his desire to get justice for African-Americans is synonymous with Du Bois’s demand of equality in the form of full manhood suffrage for African American men (Wolters, 55) as a means to get immediate justice and protection. Morrison nearly directly references Du Bois when Guitar says “Did they prove anything scientifically about us before they killed us? No. They killed us first and then tried to get some scientific proof about why we should die” (Morrison 157). This idea of whites searching for “scientific proof” is a clear nod at Du Bois who was a clear critic of the idea of “white supremacy” (or the idea that white people are scientifically superior) and wrote articles criticizing the idea that African Americans were inferior in any way. The relationship between Guitar and Milkman can also be seen as representative of the convoluted friendship of opposing ideologists Du Bois and Booker T. Washington. Although both fought for rights, Du Bois thought that “black submission in the face of white injustice demeaned African Americans and led to a sense of helplessness and to a loss of the pride, initiative, and self-reliance that Booker T. Washington himself had called for” (Wolters, 55). In essence, Du Bois rejected Booker’s idea of slowly integrating into society by the accumulation of wealth, and preferred that African Americans are more aggressive in gaining their own justice through preserving and growing their culture while taking power. This relationship of friends with differing visions of the proper direction of their race is mirrored by Milkman and Guitar’s friendship. In this relationship, Milkman (representing Washington) is more in favor of gaining wealth and avoiding upsetting the status quo. Conversely, Guitar prefers a more radical and abrupt justice, and wants African Americans to keep a strong communal bond. Finally, one of the major themes of Morrison’s book is the idea of the preservation of history within a community. This sentiment is experienced many times in the book, most notably when Milkman ventures back to his grandfather’s farm to find gold, but instead begins to unravel the history behind his family. This reflects Du Bois idea that African American culture needs to be preserved rather than abandoned just to assimilate into white society. Morrison, obviously a student of the heritage within the establishment of her culture, has allowed the ideas of famous thinkers of the civil rights movement to influence the ideas and justifications of her character (especially Guitar Bains). As ghosts are important in Song of Solomon, it seems fitting that readers may be able to see the ghost of W. E. B. De Bois and his ideas of the preservation of African American heritage and the non-submissive pursuit of rights.

Work Cited

Morrison, Toni. Song of Solomon. New York: Knopf, 1977:157. Print.

Wolters, Raymond. Du Bois and His Rivals. Columbia, Missouri: University of Missouri Press, 2002. Print.

Malcolm X

In Toni Morrison’s Song of Solomon, the character Guitar Bains strongly resembles Malcolm X (born Malcolm Little), who was a African American rights activist during the same time period as Song of Solomon. The comparison is evident when Milkman says that Guitar sounds “like that red-headed Negro named X (Morrison, 160)”, referring to Malcolm X, whose nickname was Detroit Red. Based on their responses to the racist crimes against African Americans, the similarities between the two cannot be ignored. Guitar becomes one of the Seven Days, an organization formed to maintain balance between the killings of whites and African Americans. When describing Seven Days, Guitar says,eTHe “but when a Negro child, Negro woman, or Negro man is killed by whites and nothing is done about it by their law and their courts, this society selects a similar victim at random, and they execute him or her in a similar manner if they can (Morrison, 154).” In the book Malcolm X for Beginners by Bernard Aquina Doctor, Malcolm X is quoted as saying “expecting the white police to look out for us is like putting the fox in charge of guarding the chicken house (Doctor, 87).” Both of these quotes express anger towards the white justice system not properly responding to the racial hate crimes that were running rampant through the country. Guitar’s method of dealing with this by murder reflects that of Malcolm X. Malcolm X explains that “it’s a crime in the face of all the violence that’s been perpetrated on the negro to expect them to be nonviolent (Doctor, 86).” Through this use of association between Malcolm X and the character Guitar, Morrison affectively showcases a method of dealing with the racial turmoil using violence, which can be used as a contrast against the character Milkman.

Work Cited

Morrison, Toni. Song of Solomon. New York: Knopf, 1977:157. Print.

Doctor, Bernard. Malcolm X for Beginners. New York, NY: Writers and Readers, 1992. Print

Booker T. Washington

Toni Morrison’s Song of Solomon addresses multiple themes surrounding the interracial battle for civil rights of African Americans in the 1930’s. In the examination of systems of belief, a key comparison can be drawn between one of the main characters of the novel, Milkman Foster, and the notable civil rights activist of the late nineteenth century, Booker T. Washington. A significant similarity between the two African American men can be seen in their individual approaches to the struggle of white supremacy. Like Booker T. Washington, Milkman, maintains an accomodationalist stance on issues of race, while challenging the use of aggressive retaliation as an effective means of progress. Washington upheld a method of cooperation and a system of gradual advancement through negotiation, and thus, championed an increase in jobs and political significance for African Americans in a peaceful manner (Moore, “Struggle for Racial Uplift”). Similar to Milkman’s view on strategies of increasing opportunities for blacks, Washington supported the use of “behind the scenes pressure” (Moore, 67) and the avoidance of violence and the antagonizing of whites. Through the utilization of self-help, a pillar of industrial education, and hard work, Washington believed that economic progress would soon follow. The character Milkman in Song of Solomon experiences internal turmoil and confusion at the barbaric tactics and lack of self-control exhibited by the local terrorist society in his community. He displays his conservative stance and disapproval of violence when discussing the topic with his cohort Guitar by stating, “Wait a minute, Guitar. If they are as bad, as unnatural, as you say, why do you want to be like them? Don’t you want to be better than they are?”(Morrison, 157). Milkman’s disbelief in the destructive actions of the terrorist group reflects his pacifist approach and at the same time stresses the connection of racism with alienation from humanity that characterized the efforts and beliefs of Booker T. Washington as well. In addition, a link can be forged between Milkman and Washington in their similar belief in the power of material possessions. Washington states, “There is no doubt in many quarters as to the ability of the Negro unguided, unsupported, to hew his own path and put into visible, tangible, indisputable form, products and signs of civilization”(Washington, 28). In opposition to the display of vengeance through murder, the character Milkman stresses the need for physical proof of status, instead, in his continual conquest for material possessions and wealth. Drawing a connection between the character Milkman in Toni Morrison’s Song of Solomon and the racial activist Booker T. Washington reveals defined similarities on methods of challenging white supremacy in a diplomatic manner as well as the improvement of the black condition through personal motivation and hard work.

Works Cited

Moore, Jacqueline M. Booker T. Washington, W.E.B. Du Bois, and the Struggle for Racial Uplift. Wilmington, DE: Scholarly Resources, 2003:67. Print.

Morrison, Toni. Song of Solomon. New York: Knopf, 1977:157. Print.

Washington, Booker T. The Negro Problem. Amherst, NY: Humanity, 2003:28. Print.

Hospitals and African Americans in the Mid 20th Century

“They called it Not Doctor Street, and they were inclined to call the charity hospital at its northern end No Mercy Hospital since it was 1931, on the day following Mr. Smith’s leap from its cupola, before the first colored expectant mother was allowed to give birth inside its wards and not on its steps. The reason for the hospital’s generosity to that particular woman was not the fact that she was the only child of this Negro doctor, for during his entire professional life he had never been granted hospital privileges and only two of his patients were ever admitted to Mercy, both white. Besides, the doctor had been dead a long time by 1931. It must have been Mr. Smith’s leap from the roof over their heads that made them admit her. In any case, whether or not the little insurance agent’s conviction that he could fly contributed to the place of her delivery, it certainly contributed to its time.” -pp. 4-5

In the early twentieth century, African-Americans had limited access to professionally provided health care. One factor was the inability of many blacks to meet the financial demand of services provided in facilities owned and run by whites. Lower class African-Americans were often dependent on employers to finance their medical needs. Some employers would directly front this cost, while others deducted the cost of medical care from their workers’ wages (Beito, “Fraternal Hospitals”). Some charity hospitals existed to meet these needs, including six that existed in southern Mississippi by the middle of the century (Beito, “Fraternal Hospitals”). Many African-Americans relied upon midwives for medical advice as an alternative to the costly services offered elsewhere (Beito). In addition to these financial restrictions, African-Americans received less than adequate care at many medical facilities during this time period. Most medical institutions required blacks to enter through the back of the building, and they received care in quarters separate from their white patients, if they were admitted at all. These patients were often seen last, after any white patients’ needs had been met, and actual services offered to African-Americans were limited. Obstetrical services were not provided for black women (Paulshock), and in some cases patients had to provide their own eating utensils, bed linens, and hire their own black nurse if none was on staff (Beito). African American doctors also experienced the effects of racial segregation. Many black practitioners had limited access to clinical training and internships, which in turn limited the services they were able to provide to their patients. Even when they were able to provide services, supervision of a white doctor was often required. Overall, the experience of African-Americans in the early twentieth century hospital was one of “humiliating, second-class treatment” (Beito, “Fraternal Hospitals”, 112).

As a result, African- Americans felt the urge to form their own institutions for medical treatment. Fraternal organizations were integral in achieving this goal. Initially these societies provided outlets through which a general practitioner could administer medical treatment to its members, in return for a salary based on the number of members in the organization (Beito, “Fraternal Hospitals”). In the New Orleans area alone, about 600 of these fraternal societies offered medical services by the 1920’s (Beito). After World War I, fraternal societies began founding hospitals for their communities. Often members would be charged an annual fee which would be pooled for construction costs of a hospital. Some white bankers and planters would facilitate the process either through direct financial support or through the provision of loans as a “means for them to escape paying medical costs for poor blacks” (Beito, “Fraternal Hospitals”, 116). In Mississippi, Thomas J. Huddleston was able to raise enough funds to take out a loan from a white bank in Yazoo City for the construction of the Afro-American Hospital by collecting an annual fee of $1.50 from each new member of Afro-American Sons and Daughters. As a whole, fraternal societies offered “self help and mutual aid” as a solution to the problems caused by Jim Crow laws (Beito, “Fraternal Hospitals, 113).

A major turning point in the desegregation of medical institutions was brought about by the government’s involvement. At first, state government had a hands off approach that was believed to free white taxpayers and white doctors from additional charity-care obligations in supporting black medical institutions and care. However, the Hill-Burton Hospital Construction Act of 1946 offered states grants and required that a portion go toward providing care for those living in poverty, and that all services be offered “without discrimination”. This act allowed southern states to maintain hospital segregation as long as the care was “of like quality”. This act made free and paid hospital care more available for African Americans, but hospital segregation was still not overcome (Beito, “Let Down”, 567). Greater black access to mainstream health care institutions was fought for during the New Deal Period. The first improvement was to integrate white medical institutions. Black practitioners could then admit and treat patients in white hospitals without supervision. During this period, accredited hospital training for African American doctors was also expanded. Many African Americans welcomed the intervention by the government due to the discrimination they experienced in private and local public health facilities (Nelson, 604). By the 1950’s, although segregation still existed in hospitals, one medical intern at the Delaware Hospital observed “that all patients received the same careful, caring treatment, regardless of race. A bed was always found for any patient, any color, who needed admission” (Paulshock, 73-74). The expense of segregation was outweighed by the economic practicality of combined restrooms and dining halls, which enabled the expansion of available services through the redesign of hospital facilities (Paulshock). This led to the straight forward and almost instantaneous desegregation of wards, semi-private rooms, and services in this hospital, “without fanfare... before any public demand” (Paulshock, 79).

It is in this historical context that Toni Morrison sets the scene of her novel Song of Solomon. The opening pages are set outside of a charity hospital in Michigan in the early 1930’s, with a pregnant black woman threatening to give birth on the very stoop of the building. The hospital is the backdrop for acts of intense racial discrimination, and up until this point, no black woman has been allowed to deliver a child inside, evidence of the limited health care available for African-Americans in this time period. The passage also illuminates the discrimination against black doctors. The accreditation of Dr. Foster, a respected man in his community, is not acknowledged by the town’s white hospital and he and his patients are refused care, with the exception of two of his white patients. The very mission of Mercy Hospital is called into question, as the so-called “charity hospital” denies African-Americans access to its services. Compounding the contradiction is the hospital’s location in a black neighborhood, where the dire need for such services surrounds it. This passage provides insight into the hospital’s role as a vehicle of racial discrimination against African Americans in the beginning of the twentieth century.

Works Cited

Beito, David T. "Black Fraternal Hospitals in the Mississippi Delta, 1942-1967." The Journal of Southern History 65.1 (1999): 109-40. Print.

Beito, David T. “Let Down Your Bucket Where You Are. The Afro-American Hospital and Black Healthcare in Mississippi 1924-1966.” Social Science History 30.4 (2006): 551-569. Print.

Nelson, Jennifer. “Healthcare Reconsidered: Forging Community Wellness Among African Americans in the South”. Bulletin of the History of Medicine 80.3 (2007): 594-623). Print.

Paulshock, Bernadine Z. "Desegregating the Delaware Hospital: Why, How and When Did It Happen." Delaware History 30.2 (2002): 71-84. Print.

Toni Morrison's Nobel Prize in Literature

Written by Ashley Feltes, Laura Kaiser, and Lin Weeks



The first Nobel Prize in Literature was awarded in 1901. Now, it is one of five Nobel Prizes established from the will of Alfred Nobel, the others being physics, psychology, chemistry, peace, and physiology or medicine. Nobel was the regretful inventor of dynamite, so he proposed these prizes in order to be remembered in a peaceful way (Schlessinger 8).

The prizes and nominations are internationally awarded the way Nobel proposed in his will. Thousands of requests are sent to the Swedish Academy every February and by April the proposals are narrowed down to twenty. During the summer months, the Academy reads or researches the remaining nominees and in October the one who receives more than half the votes is awarded the Nobel Prize. The Nobel laureate each year receives a gold medal, approximately $825,000 (depending on the income of the Nobel Foundation), and a Diploma bearing a citation directly from the King of Sweden (Schlessinger 125).

Toni Morrison was the first African American woman to receive the Nobel Prize in Literature. According to an interview with Toni Morrison conducted by Chloe Wofford, Morrison was very surprised to receive the award because “she never thought she had so many supporters and that the Swedish Academy knew about her work and took it seriously” (Denard 106). In other interviews, she has also talked about the difficulty of being a woman especially an African American woman and telling others that she is a writer. She states how “at the time I certainly didn’t personally know any other women writers who were successful” and that “it’s almost as if you needed permission to write” as a woman. Morrison describes the idea that in general if a man is told he’s a good writer, he will go ahead and become a writer, but a woman will wait for someone to give her permission and say she can do it (71). During her conversation with Chloe Wofford, Morrison also talks about how she felt when she travelled to collect the Nobel Prize:

“I felt a lot of “we” excitement. It was as if the whole category of “female writer” and “black writer” had been redeemed. I felt I represented a whole world of women who either were silenced or who had never received the imprimatur of the established literary world. I felt the way I used to feel at commencements where I’d get honorary degree: that it was very important for young black people to see a black person do that; that there were probably young people in South-Central Los Angeles or Selma who weren’t quite sure that they could do it. But seeing me up there might encourage them to write one of those books I’m desperate to read. And that made me happy. It gave me license to strut” (99).

From those remarks, the connection between Morrison’s work in Song of Solomon and her personal motives for writing comes into focus. Morrison is clearly extremely proud of being the first African American writer to win the award and further feels that her success “redeemed” the whole category of “black writer” (Denard 99).

Morrison’s Nobel Lecture at the ceremony also establishes a connection between her award and Song of Solomon, but in a more subtle way. In her lecture, she tells a story of a blind woman who’s the “daughter of slaves” (Morrison). The woman is asked by a couple of prankster children whether a bird they hold in their hands is alive or dead. And the woman, in her wisdom, answers: “ ‘I don't know whether the bird you are holding is dead or alive, but what I do know is that it is in your hands’” (Morrison). Morrison goes on to explain the point of the story – just as in Song of Solomon, the thing in question is not only what end one tries to reach, but also the “power to the instrument through which that power is exercised” (Morrison).



Works Cited

Coser, Stelamaris. Bridging the Americas: The Literature of Toni Morrison, Paule Marshall, and Gayl Jones. Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1994. Print.

David, Ron. Toni Morrison Explained. New York: Random House, Inc., 2000. Print.

Schlessinger, Bernard S., and June H. Schlessinger. The Who's Who of Nobel Prize-Winners. Third ed. N.p.: n.p., n.d. 250. Print.

"Toni Morrison - Nobel Lecture". Nobelprize.org. 21 Oct 2010 http://nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/literature/laureates/1993/morrison-lecture.html

Jacqui on Song of Solomon

“Surrendering to the sound, Macon moved closer. He wanted no conversation, no witness, only to listen and perhaps to see the three of them, the source of that music that made him think of fields and wild turkey and calico. Treading as lightly as he could, he crept up to the side window where the candlelight flickered lowest, and peeped in. Reba was cutting her toenails with a kitchen knife or a switchblade, her long neck bent almost to her knees. The girl, Hagar was braiding her hair, while Pilate, whose face he could not see because her back was to the window, was stirring something in a pot. Wine pulp, perhaps. Macon knew it was not food she was stirring, for she and her daughters ate like children. Whatever they had a taste for. No meal was ever planned or balanced or served. Nor was there any gathering at the table. Pilate might bake hot bread and each one of them would eat it with butter whenever she felt like it. Or there might be grapes, left over from the winemaking, or peaches for days on end. If one of them bought a gallon of milk they drank it until it was gone. If another got a half bushel of tomatoes or a dozen ears of corn, they ate them until they were gone too. They ate what they had or came across or had a craving for. Profits from their wine-selling evaporated like sea water in a hot wind—going for junk jewelry for Hagar, Reba’s gifts to men, and he didn’t know what all.

Near the window, hidden by the dark, he felt the irritability of the day drain from him and relished the effortless beauty of the women singing in the candlelight. Reba’s soft profile, Hagar’s hands moving, moving in her heavy hair, and Pilate. He knew her face better than he knew his own. Singing now, her face would be a mask; all emotion and passion would have left her features and entered her voice. But he knew that when she was neither singing nor talking, her face was animated constantly by her moving lips. She chewed things. As a baby, as a very young girl, she kept things in her mouth—straw from brooms, gristle, buttons, seeds, leaves, string, and her favorite, when he could find some for her, rubber bands and India rubber erasers. Her lips were alive with small movements. If you were close to her, you wondered if she was about to smile or was she merely shifting a straw from the baseline of her gums to her tongue. Perhaps she was dislodging a curl of rubber band from inside her cheek, or was she really smiling? From a distance she appeared to be whispering to herself, when she was only nibbling or splitting tiny seeds with her front teeth. Her lips were darker than her skin, wine-stained, blueberry-dyed, so her face had a cosmetic look—as though she had applied a very dark lipstick neatly and blotted away its shine on a scrap of newspaper.

As Macon felt himself softening under the weight of memory and music, the song died down. The air was quiet and yet Macon Dead could not leave. He liked looking at them freely this way. They didn’t move. They simply stopped singing and Reba went on paring her toenails, Hagar threaded and unthreaded her hair, and Pilate swayed like a willow over her stirring” (Morrison 29-30).

This particular passage from Toni Morrison’s Song of Solomon initially stood out to me because of the parallel to the themes found in Marilynne Robinson’s Housekeeping. There is the similarity to Robinson’s novel with the separation of Macon from Pilate, Reba, and Hagar through a window, separating the darkness from the warmth of a home. This concept of being on the outside looking into a lighted house was a pivotal part of Robinson’s development of the characters in her novel. The characters on the outside, presumably Ruth and Sylvie, had been the more experienced characters, the ones more in touch with themselves—however, Morrison chooses to have Macon on the outside, alone in the dark although he’s the wealthier, more successful and “normal” by society’s standards. While resenting his sister in the day, he longs to have the closeness and the security that she feels with her family, but has chosen to not be a part of that feeling with Pilate, or anyone else, through his threatening and abusive personality. This perhaps causes readers to question the source of Macon’s hatred as a possible over exaggerated defense mechanism.

This passage is also particularly interesting, because it illuminates a different aspect of Macon’s personality by exposing parts of his past and the emotions these memories evoke. Before this scene in the novel, Macon is indirectly characterized through others’ reactions to him, mostly their fear of him. Yet, through his reactions and acute attention to his sister, such as his analysis of whether or not she’s chewing on something or about to smile—shows that he cares to know more about her, possibly guilt from the years he lost knowing her. It’s also key to notice that he refers to his sister as the child-like version of herself often. Similar to the narrator in Margaret Atwood’s Surfacing, who claimed it’s easier to have parents who died young because then the memory of them stays unchanged forever, Pilate in a sense has died to Macon through his shunning of her, and his image of her has therefore been crystallized in a more positive light, which is his memory of her as a young child, when he was close to her.

While Macon is without doubt evil through his actions and words, this particular passage speaks to a different, more human side of his character, because it shows a deep longing for acceptance, and possibly even regret for his abandonment of his sister and ultimately his own history.

Questions:

1. Do you agree that this passage exemplifies Macon’s suppressed feelings of guilt about his sister? Why or why not? Is yes, why does he push Pilate out of his life both literally and mentally if he longs for a connection?

2. How does Morrison’s diction help further characterize Pilate in this scene? What does her ability to recover after Macon’s hatred say about her character?

Dominique on Song of Solomon

Song of Solomon Passage!

“These rides that the family took on Sunday afternoons had become rituals and much too important for Macon to enjoy.  For him it was a way to satisfy himself that he was indeed a successful man. It was a less ambitious ritual for Ruth, but in a way, nevertheless, for her to display her family. For the little boy it was simply a burden.  Pressed in the front seat between his parents, he could see only the winged woman careening off the nose of the car.  He was not allowed to sit on his mother’s lap during the drive- not because she wouldn’t have it, but because his father objected to it.  So it was only by kneeling on the dove gray seat and looking out the back window that he could see anything other than the laps, feet, and hands of his parents, the dashboard, or the silver winged woman poised at the tip of the Packard.  But riding backward made him uneasy. It was like flying blind, and not knowing where he was going- just where he had been-troubled him. He did not want to see the trees that he had passed, or houses and children slipping into the space the automobile had left behind (31-32).”

The family is going on the weekly drive they take every Sunday afternoon. The drive is the only thing that they use the car for.  Lena and Corinthians both sit in the back seat, each with her own window to gaze out of.  Macon drives while Ruth sits in the front passenger seat. A young Milkman is wedged in-between his parents. Although the Sunday drive is intended to be relaxing, Macon is not enjoying it because it has become “too important.”  The drive is a way for him and Ruth to show off their wealth as well as their family.  Milkman also does not enjoy the ride.  He seems to be bored by his limited view.  All he can see is the figure on the hood, the dashboard, his parents laps, or what is behind him.

This passage introduces some interesting character traits.  First, Macon starts to reveal his obsession with power and money. The leisurely drive he should be enjoying is more like a chore to him. Instead of enjoying spending time with his family, Macon is preoccupied with showing off his car and therefore his wealth.  Throughout this passage and the rest of the reading, Macon shows signs of wanting to own not only things but people as well. The excerpt also introduces a theme of memories and their importance.  Perched facing backwards in the car, Milkman is “uneasy” about not being able to see what lies ahead. He also does not like looking where he has been or seeing people disappears as the car moves forward. Milkman seems phased by losing sight of the past and not being able to see the future at all.

So, questions…

1. What do you think led to Macon’s obvious insecurities about wealth and social status?

2. Do you think there exists underlying reasons that have led to Macon’s complete distaste of his wife other that the situation with her father and the “milkman” incident?

3. Is it possible that this passage is foreshadowing Milkman’s eventual denial of the past?

Mike's post on Morrison

"Girl, ain't nobody gonna let you starve. You ever had a hungry day?" Pilate asked her granddaughter. "Course she ain't," said her mother. Hagar tossed a branch to the heap on the floor and rubbed her fingers. The tips were colored a deep red. "Some of my days were hungry ones." With the quickness of birds, the heads of Pilate and Reba shot up. They peered at Hagar, then exchanged looks. "Baby?" Reba's voice was soft. "You been hungry, baby? Why didn't you say so?" Reba looked hurt. "We get you anything you want, baby. Anything. You been knowing that." Pilate spit her twig into the palm of her hand. Her face went still. Without those moving lips her face was like a mask. It seemed to Milkman that somebody had just clicked off a light. He looked at the faces of the women. Reba's had crumpled. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. Pilate's face was still as death, but alert as though waiting for some signal. Hagar's profile was hidden by her hair. She leaned forward, her elbows on her thighs, rubbing fingers that looked bloodstained in the lessening light. Her nails were very very long" (Morrison 48-49).

This passage struck me as an important one because for the first time in this novel we see a family truly cares for each other. These women are depicted through stories told by characters as unsavory and dirty bootleggers. Pilate's own brother who cared for her as a baby refuses to speak to her and refers to her as a snake. However, in this passage, we see that the three women truly care for each other and seem to be more of a family unit than Milkman's family could ever hope to be. While Macon Dead rides around in his fancy car with his big house, he despises his wife and strikes fear in the hearts of his children. He only cares about how he appears to others and having possessions. The view from inside Pilate's home seems to turn the tables and show that Macon is more deserving of criticism than his sister is.

Also, relating to how hostile Macon Dead's home is, we come to see that his wife Ruth only has two activities that get her through the day; looking at the water mark on the kitchen table and breast feeding her 12 year old son, Macon (Milkman) (11-15). Clearly, the breast feeding is unusual but we also come to find out that she also had a questionable relationship with her father (kissing him goodnight on the lips at age 16 and the incident with her father's dead body). This would seem to point to the fact that Ruth is sick and has mental issues, but I can't help but think that Macon has had something to do with her actions and if so it would then seem that he has a way of pushing all family away from him and turning feelings that were once love into disgust and disappointment.

What is Toni Morrison saying about the concept of family in this text?

How do you feel about Ruth and the aforementioned activities she has been involved in? Do you feel that Macon is related to these issues at all?

“‘I just want to go home,’ I said, and pushed the door open. Lucille grabbed me by the flesh above my elbow. ‘Don’t!’ she said, pinching me smartly for emphasis. She came with me out onto the sidewalk, still grasping the flesh of my arm. ‘That’s Sylvie’s house now.’ She whispered hissingly and looked wrath. And now I felt her nails, and her glare was more pleading and urgent. ‘We have to improve ourselves!’ she said. ‘Starting right now!’ she said. And again I could think of no reply."

"‘Well, I’ll talk to you about it later,’ I murmured, and turned away toward home, and to my amazement, Lucille followed me—a few paces behind, and only for a block or two. Then she stopped without a word and turned and walked back to the drugstore. And I was left alone, in the gentle afternoon, indifferent to my clothes and comfortable in my skin, unimproved and without the prospect of improvement. It seemed tome then that Lucille would buys herself forever, nudging, pushing, coaxing, as if she could supply the will I lacked, to pull myself into some seemly shape and slip across the wide frontiers into that other world, where it seemed to me then I could never wish to go. For it seemed to me that nothing I had lost, or might lose, could be found there, or to put it another way, it seemed that something I had lost might be found in Sylvie’s house,” (Robinson, 123-4).

This passage stuck out to me because it is the first time that we see Lucille and Ruth have a significant argument and physical struggle ending in a separation rather than a solution. They are arguing because Ruth wants to go home but Lucille wants her to stay with her. Lucille is angered because she feels as though the house has been taken over by Sylvie and no longer belongs to her and Ruth. With the notion of home no longer being present in Lucille’s life, she looks for comfort in other things. She becomes consumed by her appearance and fitting into social hierarchy. Lucille tries to drag Ruth along on her journey towards socialization without ever considering if that was what she wanted or not. Up to this point we are used to Ruth keeping her opinions to herself and going with the flow so as not to causing tension. She said earlier (referring to Lucille), “I found…advantage in conforming my attitudes to hers,” (Robinson, 93). It had always been easier to simply agree with Lucille than to actually have to state her own opinion or have her own opinion. This passage is a major breakthrough for Ruth because she is realizing who she is and what she does not want to be. She is breaking away from her sister and paving a new way for herself for the first time.

Lucille has made a huge transition in not only her physical maturation but also her need to be integrated into her community. Ruth is feeling burdened with the pressure to encounter the same changes and fall in line with her sister. In this passage Ruth decides that this isn’t what she wants. She turns her back on the idea and immediately she feels the weight being lifted. She is able to feel comfortable with herself and not feel the need to change or conform anymore. One reoccurring topic in this novel has been movement and flow. When the flood took over the house, the house itself seemed to flow and take on a life of its own. Ruth wants to return to the house and be a part of the flow. As Lucille states in this passage it is now "Sylvie's house" which adds the element of nature to this flow and a state of being in harmony with the surroundings. Ruth is is called to this way of life rather than trying to keep up with the ever-changing standards of society. Ruth becomes independent of society and as a result, independent of Lucille.

Questions:

What caused the sudden change in Lucille’s outlook on life and society? Why does she feel the need to “improve” herself?

Why is the idea of living the life of Sylvie more appealing to Ruth than the living the seemingly normal or civilized life of Lucille?