Jean Toomer, Part 1

First of all, I would like to start off by vouching that what I have read so far in Jean Toomer's "Cane" is, in my opinion, some of the most interesting and moving literature in this class so far, and tops my list of all-time personal favorites. I had never even heard of Jean Toomer, and therefore didn't know what to expect until I cracked the book. I will admit that some of the poetry in the assigned section is a little difficult to understand at first glance, such as "November Cotton Flower"...still working on wrapping my mind around that one). However, I found the prose to be full of raw, honest emotions and brutally realistic -- almost to the point of being shocking -- glimpses into people's lives. For this blog entry, I'd like to focus on the one piece that spoke to me most: "Becky."

Becky, descibed in the past tense because she is already dead, is a white Catholic woman with "two Negro sons" (5). Already physically decrepit, with sunken eyes, a "stringy" neck, and aged, fallen breasts, Becky is humiliatingly shunned from both the black and white communities for crossing a race barrier. Her decision to have sex with a black man -- not once, but twice -- and bear two black children dismisses her from any support or respect from either race community. Whites refer to her as a "Common, God-forsaken, insane white shameless wench," and the blacks call her a "Catholic poor-white crazy woman" (5). Because she is obviously not wanted in public, Becky simply disappears socially, and is not even seen at her own home, a humble house located "on the narrow strip of land between the railroad and the road" (5). Some people take pity on her, bringing her food and sending prayers to her, but most simply ignore her and even wonder if she has died and been buried by her two, now-grown sons without anyone in the town knowing. One Sunday afternoon, two religious men on their way home from church services ride past Becky's house. Simultaneously, a train comes churning through the station with such force that it knocks the "leaning" chimney on Becky's home into the cabin, crushing what the two men imagine to be Becky. Instead of investigating, or possibly trying to help Becky, they simply leave a Bible on top of her crushed body. Toomer leaves the reader with the image of the Bible flapping "its leaves with an aimless rustle on her mound" (7).

"Becky" was a difficult piece for me to read. I cannot imagine anyone experiencing so much pain and loneliness in their life, disrespected and looked down on by virtually everyone, and then dying alone and deranged from such an angst-ridden existence. Even worse, I got the idea that both the black and white communities received a sense of relief in Becky's death. The woman who they secretly desired to be "cast...out" and receive ultimate punishment for her miscegenation dies a painful death, but not at their hands. After reading Becky's story a second and third time, I began to feel like Becky and our narratory from "Autobiography of an Ex-Coloured Man" possessed very similar qualities. Although their stories differ, and Becky's ends much differently than the narrator's does, theoretically they experience many of the same emotions. Neither are fully accepted by black or white communities, and therefore, both choose to distance themselves socially to avoid pain. However, both receive severe emotional scarring from their life experiences, and, even though Becky's story ends in her death whereas the narrator lives, the narrator is barely existing. I would like to discuss the corrolations between "Becky" and "Autobiography of an Ex-Coloured Man" in class, because I think we could generate some very interesting ideas regarding the way both individuals had to resort to living their lives.

I just can't get over the pain in "Becky." How did she survive as long as she did?