Tuesday, May 11, 2010

The Same Black Water as You

"Am I going to die? -- like this?" (3). This question pulls the reader along for 150 more pages as we too wish to know if Kelly Kelleher is going to die this way and how she has gotten herself into this position. By beginning the story near the end, Oates allows the reader to see the most honest version of Kelly’s character. As we move forward through a series of prolepses and analepses, our confusion parallels Kelly’s. The reader’s confusion about whether Kelly is dead or alive, going to be rescued or not, and where we really are in time at any given moment allows for a stronger identification with Kelly’s emotional states. As with many of Oates’ female characters, we experience hope, defeat, exhilaration, and fear with Kelly which allows the story to haunt our memories long after the book is over.

One of the first things Oates tells us about Kelly is that she has no voice with men. When faced with a situation that involves speaking up to men "you could not speak, there were no words" (5). This introduces us to Kelly’s dilemma, but the use of the second person is a stylistic bit of genius that pulls the reader even further into identification with Kelly. Since the story is written to reflect a common experience of young women as feeling free and powerful, yet ultimately finding themselves at the mercy of a male dominated society, it is important that the young female reader insert themselves quickly into this plot.

Oates pushes the reader through a twenty-six year life of tragedy wherein American society attempts to tell women that they are independent and powerful. "You love the life you’ve lived, you’re an American girl. You believe you have chosen it" (152). Kelly believes this too even as through her memories we see that the projections of her independence have been framed through what others allowed her to be. She is defined not by her accomplishments, but by who she is in relation to men. She is defined always as "somebody’s little girl" (45) and as something helplessly being acted upon: "I’ve made you want me, now I can’t refuse you" (115). Even the possibility of her death is described in a fashion that reads like a rape scene as Kelly understands that the illusion of her control is simply that - an illusion. She reflects on being "rendered incapable of screaming and… from the first instant of realizing herself out of control, the fate of her physical body out of control of her brain, she had had no coherent perception of what in fact was happening" (10).

Still, no matter how many times the story comes back to the present moment where Kelly is trying to keep her head above the thick, murky water, she persists in her youthful trust. She holds tightly to the idea of "Daddy’s authority" (52) and the interest of the Senator in her as being enough to save her. She ignores the way she has been used and clings to the hope that the very men who use her and fight to keep her secretly powerless will be the ones to save her. In her delusional state, Kelly continually imagines that the Senator will come back for her or she sees herself reaching up for her fathers arms. It is this misplaced trust in older men that has been her downfall and yet, she reaches to that place even in death. Perhaps this constant trust at our own expense is what it truly means to be an "American girl".

Though it is lost on Kelly, it is not lost on the reader that the Senator literally used Kelly’s body to push himself out of the car to safety. It is described so pitifully that even Kelly must acknowledge how her girlfriends would laugh at her: as she grabs at his foot in a desperate plea for help, he kicks her to make her let go, pushes off of her body to force himself up toward the surface of the water. She is left, still trapped in the car, clinging to his shoe as if the shoe itself might save her. This underscores the unspoken idea throughout Black Water that a man will use a woman to create more power for himself while creating the illusion that she has more power by allowing herself to be used.

Kelly falls prey constantly to the ideas thrust upon young American women by society. She believes that when something goes wrong, it is her fault and that love will save the day. Even as she is facing the possibility of dying in the dark alone, her thoughts drift toward this horrifying death being something perhaps she deserves, "as if to punish her for her behavior her performance as a self not herself" (48). She punishes herself for not speaking up sooner and questioning the Senator on being lost. Still, she believes everything will be ok if she trusts in love, because this is what she has been taught to believe. "Mommy, Daddy, hey I love you, you know that I hope, please don’t let me die I love you, okay" (119) changes to her offering to love the Senator in a last act of desperation. "She wasn’t in love but she would love him, if that would save her. She’d never loved any man… but she would love that man if it would save her" (152).

Despite Kelly’s inability to see her lack of power and independence in the situation, the reader can see it all the more clearly through the scope of the tragedy. It is a potent reminder then to young American women that we must not rely on others to save us; we must turn the idea of choosing our lives into a reality. The powerful connection with Kelly and her internal state allows the reader to understand how being an "American girl" is actually hegemonic code for withstanding the debasement of women. Oates provides both a memorable story and an important warning.

Sunday, May 9, 2010

Making the system work for you

Though Teena Maguire is brutally raped by a gang of drug addled boys and is told by everyone around her that it must be her fault, she and her twelve year old daughter find a way to make the very system that betrayed them work for them. Rape: A Love Story shows in a series of subtle maneuvers how it is possible for a person with seemingly little power to influence circumstances around them in an effort to achieve great things. Through their actions, both intentional and accidental, Teena and Bethel lure officer Dromoor onto their side and use him as their tool of justice. Since Dromoor works for the male dominated justice system, the women are able to use his standing as the perfect cover for their revenge without having fingers point back to them accusingly. This proves an interesting plot twist as the rage and violence often portrayed against women by men is now being inflicted on men by another man at the will of a woman. Teena and Bethel prey on Dromoor in a way, taking advantage of his male need to play the white knight, but because of willingness to fill this role, both women love him. This disturbing tale is certainly not your typical love story, but it does show a love born out of necessity and circumstance... a love orchestrated by women who understand the very male attitudes that were turned brutally against them can be skillfully turned to work for them as well. Through this, Oates demonstrates that the social beliefs that turn women into victims are the very same ones that can be turned to make women strong, even if that cannot be voiced as loudly.



Aside from telling the story of Teena's rape, the beginning of the book sets up many important ideas for the reader. One of the first things Oates tells us about Dromoor (before we even know his name) is "he liked the idea of justice... putting-things-back-to-right he liked. Such abstractions as law, good conduct, valor in service, eye-for-an-eye, tooth-for-a-tooth" (7). The next important bit of information Oates conveys is about the correlation between life and luck. She writes, "How a life is decided. How a life is ended. Good luck, bad luck. Purely luck" (16) which begins to erode the concept of accountability. After all, is something is purely luck, than nobody is truly at fault for a thing gone wrong. In direct opposition to that is the argument that simply by her behavior or style of dress, Teena "had it coming. Asked for it" (19). While there cannot be an argument in which someone is to blame and yet nobody is to blame since it is only a matter of luck, this confused pattern of thought allows the rest of the story to make sense.





The first sign of weakness seen in women is the simple fact of their womanhood. By being feminine, enjoying her body, and exhibiting herself as a woman, Teena became a target. The rapists, their lawyer, and even the judge use the fact that Teena was wearing short shorts, high heels, and make-up to justify the argument that she provoked her attack. Since her daughter is female and related to her, she must have also been asking for it despite the fact that she is only twelve years old; "like mother, like daughter in that family" people think (22).



The next strike used against Teena and Bethel by the system is youth. Though Teena is thirty-five, she behaves in a more youthful manner. Bethie is of course not even a teenager, but yet her childhood has been stolen from her. Nevertheless, and despite the fact that she is old enough to have been the target of a violent sexual attack, it is argued that she is too young to reliably testify about what happened to her and her mother. "How can the child be sure? How can we believe her? How can a child of twelve swear? How can a child of twelve testify" (43)? These are the questions posed by a corrupt lawyer attempting to prove his rapist clients not guilty.



Related to youth is the idea of women as vulnerable and helpless. It was fairly obvious to the men at the scene of the crime that these two women would not be able to stop them from having their fun. These women, even coupled with their female lawyer would never have the power to stop them from getting away with any crime they chose to commit. After all, women have no power in this male dominated society and the entire court process seems like a way of reminding every woman in the courtroom of that fact.



These very points that serve to turn women into victims and objects are the points that work in their favor when it is time to seek their revenge. When Dromoor was called to the scene of the rape, "there was the girl dazed sitting on the grass, and Dromoor saw the look of her, the torn clothing, bloodied face, the way one of her arms hung wrongly, and he knew it must be rape" (35). From the moment he sees this young, vulnerable girl, he is drawn into their saga. He thinks about them, checks on Teena in the hospital, and even ensures that they have his phone number should they need him. Dromoor's male driven knight-in-shining-armor complex gets the best of him and the Maguire women are not above using it to their advantage.

When Dromoor attends the initial court case against the men who raped Teena, his sense of justice is brutally battered. He feels that the law as failed, and as a man who likes the idea of right, he feels compelled to help these women who seem too helpless to do anything for themselves against the powerful system. As Dromoor comes to their rescue more and more often, especially as he starts killing the rapists in a vigilante way, Teena and Bethel begin to love him because he allows them to feel safe again. This love is returned in a way because it allows Dromoor to feel needed and as if he is providing real justice. While the men who abused and raped Teena and her daughter took advantage of a perceived weakness in their victims, Teena and Bethel also take advantage of Dromoor's need to play the savior.

Although he is not a victim, Dromoor is certainly prey to feminine stereotypes that led Teena to be victimized. The parts of women that are exploited as weaknesses by the legal system and by the town are used as strengths to get a man on their side. Without Dromoor being drawn to the idea of female vulnerability and need, he would not have felt so compelled to come to their rescue. While it is not spoken that Bethel and Teena are intentionally playing into Dromoor's white knight complex, they both seem to act just a bit more needy when he is around; it is he they call when they are afraid; it is he who Bethel gives distressed eyes to while she is throwing the female lawyer out of their home.

Perhaps it is all coincidence within the plot of Oates' story, but nevertheless, the message exists: the things that appear to make women weak can easily be turned into strengths when framed in the right light.