LITERATURE: McCullers’The Heart… – Technique

First off, let me say that McCullers is at least a thousand times the writer I could ever be.  Then, because I cannot help but read as a writer, let me say that there  are some elements of writing in the novel that have bothered me a teeny bit, and they are so teeny in themselves–especially for a first novel–that I shouldn’t even mention them, but I will.

McCullers gives us the story of five individuals in particular, and four of the five gravitate towards that all important fifth–Mr. Singer.  Mr. Singer, despite his gentlemanly and friendly behavior towards all, is pining away for his dear friend, the deaf-mute, Antonapoulos, who has been sent away to a home.  Each of the four believe that they find some comfort and understanding in their friendship with Mr. Singer, but we begin to suspect otherwise; McCullers does not allow us much insight into his character for two-thirds of the book, except for his devotion to Antonapoulos. 

In this scene, he is thinking about him and what he would tell him about the four who visit him: the young girl, Mick; the drunken idealist, Jake; the burning passionate Dr. Copeland; and Biff, the resturanteur who has just lost his wife.

He watched the words shape on their lips.

We Negroes want a chance to be free at last.  And freedom is only the right to contribute…

You see, Mister Singer? I got this music in me all the time…

Let’s finish up the bottle.  I want a small one.  For we were thinking of freedom…

The last one rubbed his nose.  He did not come often and he did not say  much. (p. 174)

In an unusual happenstance, all four visit Singer in his room at the same time and Singer is amazed that they all feel uncomfortable, do not talk to each other and leave all at once early.  Singer writes a letter to his friend in the home explaining this as well.

Up to this point, it was a wonderful way of revealing the true nature of Mr. Singer who was rather a mystery character to us as well as to everyone in town.  But McCullers, after allowing us to form our own opinions and reactions to Mr. Singer through two-thirds of the book before giving us the truth, continues to hit us over the head with it:

Out of the darkness a dream formed.  There were dull yellow lanterns lighting up a dark flight of stone steps.  Antonapoulos kneeled at the top of these steps.  He was naked and he fumbled with something that he held above his head and gazed at it as though in prayer.  He himself (Singer) knelt halfway down the steps.  He was naked and cold and he could not take his eyes from Antonapoulos and the thing he held above him.  Behind him on the ground he felt the one with the mustache and the girl and the black man and the last one.  And behind them there were uncounted crowds of kneeling people in the darkness.  (p. 185)

So, what Mr. Singer seeks from Antonapoulos, the four others seek from him, and the crowd represents the notion that all people seek this from each other, yet are blind to those who seek them. 

The dream, in my mind, was terrific metaphor, and yet it was overdone when it so closely followed the revelations already made.  One out of the three techniques: Singer’s wondering; the letter to his friend; the dream, would have been enough.