The Bluest Eye
by
Toni Morrison
(Pecola:
A Traumatized Child)
Morrison addresses white American racial
dominance in the 1930s. She is concerned with the relation between social power
and individual psychology and tries to give voice to those who are traumatized by
oppressive social and familial forces. The novel introduces a new element into
colonialist discourse: it features as protagonist young subaltern girl not
previously represented in the Western literary tradition. For the writer,
traumatized children provide not merely poignant metaphors but also concrete
examples of the neglect, exploitation, disempowerment and disavowal of certain
communities and even entire cultures. We shall see how the writer challenges
the subordination of women and children by testifying to their experience and
by engaging their readers in that experience.
Trauma
is an event in an individual’s life which is defined by its intensity, by the
subject’s incapacity to respond adequately to it, and by the upheaval and
long-lasting effects that it brings about in the psychical organization.
Prolonged exposure to threats of violence and ongoing abuse are particularly
characteristic of oppressed groups and constitute a pernicious form of trauma,
because the constant stress and humiliation are associated with being a person
of low socioeconomic status In The Bluest Eye several of Morrison’s characters
experience the gradual psychic erosion representing the weakening of whole
communities living under an oppressive white cultural dominance. Morrison
depicts an imposing white culture whose values are enforced through a variety
of means (violent, economic, psychological, etc.). The Bluest Eye explores how
the traumatic experience of social powerlessness and devalued racial identity
prevents the African American community from joining together and truthfully
evaluating the similarity of their circumstances, much fewer finding ways to
oppose dominant forces.
The
epitome of this devalued community, the Breedlove family suffers from trauma
caused by single, startling events, but also in the form of daily, grinding
oppression, whereby the parents pass their suffering on to their children. The
Breedlove’s daughter, Pecola, is especially sensitive to the fearful, repetitively
ritualized violence that her parents direct toward each other and their
children. Her further devaluation by the world, with little relief except from
her playmates and the whores who befriend her, includes constant ridicule from
other school children because of her dark skin, poverty and ugliness. The black
boys who torment her fail to recognize a fellow member of their community.
Pecola’s parents, furthermore, are often powerless themselves, subject to the
whites who employ them, victims of their poverty and the culture which
invalidates them. In addition, they themselves have been physically or emotionally
abandoned by their families- Cholly was rejected by both of his parents,
Pauline was made an outsider because of a limp. Traumatized children
themselves, they continue the trauma by denying their own weakness in their
abuse of parental power, by instilling their own fears of impotence, and by
calling upon their children to fulfill their own unmet needs.
Never
valued as an individual when she was a child, Pauline continues throughout her
life to seek approval in others’ eyes, particularly in her position as a
servant for whites. In the one place that she feels powerful- the kitchen of
the white family for whom she works- she attacks her daughter (who has spilled a
cobbler), and in turn denies her own place in the world when she not only fails
to acknowledge Pecola but also comforts the white family’s child. Pecola’s
desire for blue eyes is in fact an inheritance from Pauline herself; based on
idealized white images- images of acceptance and beauty completely disconnected
from herself and her blackness- Pauline’s desire is to look like Jean Harlow.
Pauline
and Pecola, like the rest of the black community, have internalized the
pervasive standard of whiteness: in the white dolls they buy their children, in
the movies they watch and emulate, and in their privileging of the
light-skinned black child, Maureen Peal, over the darker children. Cholly’s
traumatized past ultimately leads to consequences that are even more devastating
for his daughter. After being abandoned by his parents, the most formatively
brutalizing incident in Cholly’s youth was the interruption of his first sexual
encounter by armed whites. The experience of being forced by the white hunters
to continue relations with his partner constitutes a trauma not only in its
humiliating intensity, but also in the impossibility of his being able to react
to the situation. The displacement of his anger onto his fellow victim Darlene,
reveals the extent and depth of his psychic wound: “Never did he once consider directing
his hatred toward the hunters. Such an emotion would have destroyed him. They
were big, white, armed men. He was small, black, helpless”. Cholly, in short,
cannot assimilate the truth of his subjugation without being annihilated by a
sense of his own powerlessness. When the environment sustains him, i.e., when
his marriage and work are stable, Cholly copes well, but when these sources of
support and stability are taken away his past returns to plague his present actions.
When Pecola makes a gesture which reminds him of the tender feelings he once
had for Pauline, Pecola’s sadness and helplessness and his own inability to
make her happy provoke a repetition of the violent impotence and the helpless
fear that he and Darlene felt with the white men. His angry response toward
Darlene returns and becomes confounded with feelings of love for Pauline and
Pecola, and also with self-hatred, because Pecola is like Cholly once was,
small and impotent. His pessimistic attitudes toward life, himself and his
capacity to love return to this traumatic context, and he loses the ability to approach
life or his daughter positively. One way for him to rid himself of his fears is
to project them onto Pecola, and in part he tries to destroy those fears by
raping her.
Pecola’s
desire for blue eyes becomes obsessive after her rape, and her conviction that
she has been given them by Soaphead Church (the man who promises her a miracle)
indicates a complete psychic disintegration. Her own negative reflection in
others’ eyes has been the continual source of her pain, and her main wish is
that her reflection be desirable. The extent of Pecola’s obsession and
pathology at this stage is presented through hallucinations, through her
resistance to blinking, and her delusional view that others envy her gift.
“Look. I can look right at the sun...” she says, “I don’t even have to
blink...He really did a good job. Everybody’s jealous. Every time I look at
somebody, they look off”). Her obsessive return to the mirror for reassurance
that her “blue eyes” are the bluest and the nicest- “How many times a minute are
you going to look?” her “friend” asks) - also represents a textual repetition
of the destructive power of judgment based solely on appearance and prejudice.
Pecola’s
belief that she has blue eyes represents her pitiable attempt to take power,
for she is now the one who looks, but they more importantly symbolize the
trauma of not being loved. She defends against her pain by reexperiencing
others’ gazes with what she believes is an acceptable, if not loveable, appearance.
Ironically, this delusion makes her more of an outcast because her madness
spooks everyone, including her mother. In our last glimpse of Pecola, her
wandering in a regressive animal-like state is punctuated by useless,
repetitive movements: The damage done was total. She spent her days, her
tendril, sap-green days, walking up and down, up and down, her head jerking to
the beat of a drummer so distant only she could hear. Elbows bent, hands on
shoulders, she flailed her arms like a bird in an eternal, grotesquely futile
effort to fly. Beating the air, a winged but grounded bird, intent on the blue
void it could not reach- could not even see but which filled the valleys of the
mind. When the baby does not survive, the future is cut off; so the loss of the
child is a powerful symbol of an ultimate loss of the future. As the narrator
of The Bluest Eye says, “I felt a need for someone to want the black baby
[Pecola’s] to live- just to counteract the universal love of white baby
dolls...”.
In
the novel there is an attempt to speak for victims virtually silenced by the
process of trauma. First, this takes the form of trying to articulate the
victims’ own words, suggesting their traumatized condition through the
narratively dissociative yet emotionally overdetermined quality of these words.
Pecola
seeks comfort in words. In part she seeks understanding of what her father has
done to her, but her conflicted dialogue with a split-off persona of herself
also illustrates how much she has been isolated and how her pain and need to
speak are ignored by her community and even her family. To characterize this
self-splitting, Morrison utilizes an interchange of roman type and italics: “How
come you don’t talk to anybody? I talk to you.... I just wondered. You don’t
talk to anybody. You don’t go to school. And nobody talks to you. How do you
know nobody talks to me? They don’t. When you’re in the house with me, even Mrs.
Breedlove doesn’t say anything to you. Ever. Sometimes I wonder if she even
sees you”. Hence, the writer is faced with two important issues when speaking
for the protagonist: first, there is the necessity of communicating her
experience so that it will be known; second, there is the question of how this
can be done when the characters are cut off from linguistic connections or from
dialogue with others. Morrison tells Pecola’s story in part through an
omniscient narrator and primarily through the sympathetic eyes of Claudia, who
has been Pecola’s friend and who realizes the harm done to Pecola by the
community, including herself in that complicity: “She seemed to fold into
herself, like a pleated wing. Her pain antagonized me”; “We tried to see her
without looking at her...because we had failed her”. Not only is Claudia
sympathetic toward Pecola, but she is also self-conscious and self-critical
about her own complicity. In this way, through her narrative we are doubly
exposed to the dynamics and effects of racism. Similarly, if Claudia is an
insider in the way she experiences some of the same pain as Pecola, she is also
an outsider and privileged in the sense that having been loved, she possesses
the strength to have her own desires. Outsider and insider at the same time,
she is sympathetically aware of the need to recognize her community’s role and
their own defeat in Pecola’s disintegration.
Morrison
acknowledges, that the inarticulate victims of abuse can be spoken for only
inadequately, can be understood only partially, and yet that they need such
interpretation from outside because they cannot do it alone. In giving their
characters the opportunity to speak or to act in his or her own right, however
briefly, Morrison gives us a sense of the victim’s limited ability to
communicate and act, and his or her need to find empathetic ears.
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