A Good Man Is Hard To Find

Was the ending of A Good Man Is Hard To Find a surprise? Because I am somewhat aquainted with Flannery O'Connor's stories, not really! In fact, as I read about the Grandmother and The Misfit, I began to feel as a piece of lumber entering the sawmill for a lo-o-o-ng, vertical cut, knowing that the ride would not be over until the board was completely sliced in half! It seems to me that Flannery O'Connor specializes in drawing protagonists who are somewhat innocent oddballs, in conflict with their circumstances, and full of foibles. It is, in fact, her descriptions of their foibles that draw us in and make us take delight in these characters. While we're smiling, she is also creating selfish antagonists of pure, unthinking brutality, often criminals, who are nonetheless fascinating because they usually have some charming quality. Mesmerized at this juxtaposition of good and evil, we are hoping against hope for a good outcome! She then subjects her fragile protagonist sto unfathomable, sociopathic cruelty or obliteration. And that is that.

One of my favorite movies is the Coen Brothers' O Brother Where Art Thou? and I now see Flannery O'Connor's great influence on its characters and plot: It is set in the South, and presents absurd, innocent, protagonists who are hilarious, lovable and deeply flawed for punishment at the hands of  morally corrupt persons in positions of public trust.

Based on The Odyssey, three shackled men escape from a Mississippi prison farm pursued by the Sheriff and his hounds. Everett, the know-it-all, literate main protagonist, was incarcerated for practicing law without a license. He has heard that his wife divorced him and is planning to marry a man whom she considers "bona fide." In the hope of getting home in time to prevent his wife's remarriage, Everett has engineered the escape with his cronies by promising them they are going to collect a (nonexistent) buried treasure. Along the way they are joined by a good-hearted Negro who has sold his soul to the devil in exchange for virtuosity on the banjo, a genial bank robber who robs and kills for crimes' sake, a Bible salesman who robs and leaves them for dead, a Sheriff bent on killing them though they were pardoned by the Governor, and the Klan, out to get them because "they's miscegenated." Much in keeping with the O'Connor tradition, there is a major point of departure when the story ends happily!

Though O Brother contains many Flannery O'Connoresque elements, perhaps when all is said and done, No Country for Old Men is more in keeping with O'Connor's style in that more protagonists are killed mercilessly by an engaging hit man.  In the end one is left feeling sickened by the fragility of life and shocked at how arbitrarily it can be snuffed out.

Bittersweet September 1

Ploink! The strings of my new racquet contacted the ball with unforseen ease and sweetness! In an instant that sound, the feel of my racquet's swing, and the instinctive quality of my movements instantly unlocked a trove of forgotten supreme physical joy, confidence, and pleasure! Ploink! Just like that, I felt the sheer happiness of being 12 and 15 and moving to return the ball perfectly. I again felt the thrill of always be able to find just enough more to vanquish any opponent. Ploink! Once more, the comfort that came with the feeling that I would always be strong enough to ensure that my life would be wonderful. Of course that was back in Ann Arbor and Richmond, before we moved to California and daddy deserted us and my sister Mike and I had to start supporting mommy and Kristen and Missy instead of going to college. Before my brother Kit left for Viet Nam, before my knee injuries from running track, before my heart was broken, my head injury, and my nervous breakdown at 19. Thud!!

Even so, I ask myself why I waited 46 years to play tennis again. Why did I never quite finish my B.A. in French or my B.S. in Business? Why, (despite having gone forth as a fraud) after a great and successful career as a fundraiser for some of Los Angeles's preeminent arts companies, does my heart feel as though it will break as I write these words. Why, in fact, does writing this blog make me aware of a whirlwind of inchoate feelings? Which of these should I choose to articulate? What emotional approach should I follow? How can I write something that is both meaningful to me and also be interesting to my reader? Open blogging is very different from grant writing because it is so personal. The point is that today a very young and enthusiastic part of myself grabbed the baton to run the next leg of the relay as though no time at all had passed!