Speaker for the Deads

Despite wishes to the contrary, first opinions matter a lot. They color the relations between people greatly, and take a lot of work to overcome. But, first opinions unfortunately don't even have to be formed by meeting a person. Sometimes, you can hear word of them before you even see their face.

In real life, this has happened somewhat humorously to myself. Between the high school soccer teams in the cities of Champaign-Urbana, there is some sense of rivalry. While nothing matches the intensity of Judah-Uni or the tri-cornered rivalry between Urbana, Central, and Centennial, the match-up between Urbana and Uni at least has the feel of a little brother trying desperately to hit an older sibling (see figure 1).

figure 1: all attempts of the younger brother to get close to his elder are futile

So, imagine their surprise when some punk junior goalkeeper from Uni gets the News-Gazette Player of the Week honor ahead of them. Despite the fact that in all honesty I hadn't at that point done much to earn it and one of the seniors would have probably been a better choice, I still won it. The Urbana team was jealous though: I can relay from multiple sources that that began in them the tendency to refer to me solely as "Justin." Where the jest in slightly modifying my name lies, I do not know, and I certainly had never met any but three or four of them. Still though, from then on, I was "Justin, 0 fights, 1 KO" to them (I'm not proud of the admittedly stellar KO/fight ratio, just pointing out that they chose to lump that in).

In Song of Solomon, we see the exact same situation play out. Dr. Foster, who earned the adoration of the community and a street to be named after him, did not return the favor to his patients in private company. As Macon Dead II saw it, he was not a kind man at all:

He was just about the biggest Negro in this city. Not the richest, but the most respected. But a bigger hypocrite never lived. Kept all his money in four different banks. Always calm and dignified. I thought he was naturally that way until I found out he sniffed ether. Negroes in this town worshipped him. He didn't give a damn about them, though. Called them cannibals. He delivered both your sisters himself and each time all he was interested in was the color of their skin. (71)

It is true that Macon could very well be embellishing the story for his own purposes, or that he is severely exaggerating the truth, but even looking at Ruth we see some of this reflected in her. For her son, she wants for him to be a doctor, unlike the more pedestrian real-estate business Macon has set up for him to inherit. For her daughters, she wants them to marry doctors, somebody important. When that seems impossible, she wants people of high stature still. Eventually, it becomes apparent they will not marry anybody at all unless they are from the Southside, a low blow to Ruth. Nowhere as extreme as the Doctor's alleged feelings on the matter, but still reminiscent of them.

Despite all this, the community gave him so much respect. The woman who invited Ruth to the funeral claims the Doctor saved her son, when really they were just lucky that the people at the sanatorium wouldn't let him send any patients their way. Ruth herself associates with well-to-do ladies of the community and doesn't degrade her station in any way.

On the other hand, Macon is disliked, hated, or mistrusted by nearly everybody in the community, and it's extended to his family. Feather kicks Milkman and Guitar out of the pool hall exclusively because of who Milkman's father is. Guitar himself notes that he had to get over Macon to be okay with Milkman, considering that his first meeting with Macon was to be kicked out of his house with his family. Milkman's actions and attempts to be different from his father seem to stem heavily from the hatred he receives in place of his father.

The girls too are overshadowed by their father's reputation. For their whole lives, they were paraded around those their father wanted to impress, then locked away from life among the other kids of the community. Corinthians can't admit what she actually does for the Poet Laureate, considering how high she should have been able to reach according to her family's reputation. In her shenanigans with Porter, she fears and awakens the retribution of her father for being among the "common folk." Porter too fears being discovered with her, again for her family's known qualities.

Wherever the Deads go, they are overshadowed by the past they have no option but to carry with them. Their reputations serve as a speaker for them, informing others around them of what they should think of them. Toni Morrison here captured a fascinating and very real element of life surrounding the Deads.

Milkman's Parents

In Song of Solomon, Milkman is very interested in those who inspire fear in him. In a sense, those he respects as people he also respects for their power, whether it be physical or financial or something else. This is, of course in stark contrast to the others of the community, whose respect for power does not necessarily nor even probably involve a respect of the person. This seems to reflect on Milkman's inability to set his own course in life, in contrast to the way others set him along some path.

When we look at Macon Dead II, mostly what we see is how others feel about him. "He's a kicker," we're told by Guitar. "First time I laid eyes on him, he was kicking us out of our house" (102). In fact, we see this theme repeated throughout the novel, of Macon's power through real estate. He calls Porter's bluff in the attic, he goes around collecting rent and threatening to kick people to the street, all in the name of his property. And while he has every right to do so, he doesn't win any respect from the people who rent from him. As one lady walking out of Sonny's Shop puts it, "A n* in business is a terrible thing to see. A terrible, terrible thing to see" (22). While everybody around him fears him enough to know to take him seriously, nobody respects him as a person. Nobody will explain the name "Milkman" to him, nobody will explain to him the joke about his "hearse," because they are too afraid of the repercussions and don't care much for him anyways. In contrast, Milkman, for as much as he doesn't like his father nor want to follow in his footsteps, does give him a lot of respect. He shows typical "for-your-elders" respect and doesn't mouth off to him or anything, he works for him, and he tries to comprehend Macon's story about his mother. Certainly after the scene with the radiator, when Milkman sees he has less to fear from Macon than he thought, his respect for Macon grows. It has to, really, or else nothing would keep Milkman bound to him and working. Before that scene, it could be argued that he only fears Macon. It isn't true afterwards, however.

Pilate also commands Milkman's respect. Among the community, she is known to be powerful. She is the one they get liquor from, sure, but the scene where the man is trying to get money from Reba shows her crazy strength, as well as its fame. The neighbors come to watch the spectacle: "They knew right away that the man was a newcomer to the city. [...] [H]e would have known not to fool with anything that belonged to Pilate" (94). Apparently, her power and lack of a navel is known all over the city, or at least the Southside. In Milkman, their relationship can best be defined as subversion of his expectations. Before they met, Milkman had expected her to be dirty, poor, unkempt, unintelligent, and everything that his father found disgusting. In contrast, while poor, she was not dirty nor unkempt and was anything but unintelligent. Her first words to him are insults to him, his school, and his teachers. This show of power is what wins Milkman over. He likes to have somebody to tell him what to do and how things are. It gives him the direction he lacks in himself.

When we see Milkman alone, contemplating his life, he recognizes that Guitar is right. He has no drive in life. All he wants to do is find the next party, but he can't keep that up forever. But instead of finding his own way, he lets other people push him where they think he should be. That works for him, for a while. Ultimately, to get away from that is his intention with his year-long trip that he tries to broker from his father. But, even then, he has no clue what he'll do once he can leave, or where he'll go. Besides, to even get there, he has to follow his "assignment" from Macon to steal Pilate's inheritance. He needs direction.