Hannah

As I Lay Dying

Addie's Reaction to CORRA Pg. 21 - 25

Black, White, and the Spaces in Between

For most it is hard to understand the reasoning in my actions as well as the way I am handling my upcoming death. It is not easy for everyone to comprehend other's reasoning behind the things they do, you being one of those people. Although at times my motives are not always clearly understood, I promise you, Corra, there is a purpose. I know you never could comprehend why I showed Jewel more love then my sweet son Darl. It was never a question of who I loved more, for each of my children I love unconditionally. It was a question of who needed my love more. Darl was at times lazy, but he was fully prepared to handle himself on his own. Jewel was cold and bitter. He depends on my affection for him. He needed love, and as his mother it is my job to give it to him. Although Darl longed for my attention, I know that even after my passing Darl will be alright. I can not always say the same for my son Jewel. You are a woman who needs justification. You believe that kindness reaps rewards, and that wrong actions bare consequences. I hope that some day you will realize that everything in this world is not black and white, Corra. In fact most things in this world are various shades of gray. Lines never fail to blend together. Right and wrong is not always a decisive point. Just as you could not bare to see me watch as my son made my own coffin, I would not allow my children to watch me fear my inevitable death. I love my children therefore I will not show them the true fear I feel inside. I will accept my upcoming death, therefore I watched to show my children that there was nothing to fear. We have both lived with a belief in the importance of family. Although my idea of this concept is fairly different from your own, I hope that one day Corra, you will be able to understand why I did these things. Until then I will continue to remind myself that we are two different people, and we live two different ways. Neither is more right or wrong then the other, but both just a place between the shades of black and white.

Vardaman's Sections Beginning Sections

 "My mother is a fish." -Vardaman

1 Anything that goes wrong goes here, in a jar. 2 Here are the soft fish, 3 digressive. 4 The flesh 5 misspelling itself. 6 They suffer the glass like a wish 7 I press my face 8 hard against, 9 squinting into the light. 10 What wanting shapes them? 11 The four-eyed, the fin-holed, all sort 12 of tumor, all white, almost 13 opaque, a circus 14 of bad births. 15 In Bangkok the faithful press 16 gold scales onto available buddhas. 17 Where it's hardest to see 18 brings the most luck. 19 Everything's strange enough.

20 I enter the room where the moons dwell. 21 I've been here before, 22 to the tongue's slur, 23 the blurted out no-cause 24 I-love-you's. 25 They are like each bad time with a loved one 26 one holds for how 27 it eases the inevitable loss and for this 28 we love the fish. 29 From so many seas they are their own 30 democracy. 31 O arabesque fish! 32 Whey-faced congestive 33 genetics.

34 Now you hold 35 the best seats in the house, 36 all glass frontages.

37 There is no door to the room of the dead fish. 38 The room glows. 39 There are no odes. Nodes. No, they are owed 40 us who make a museum 41 of them.

42 Still the room glows. 43 I will forget the fish.... 44 When I forget the fish 45 what will be there to remember 46 the whiteness by? 47 Everything's strange enough. 48 You don't have to make up anybody. 49 You don't have to miss anything. 50 You don't have to speak 51 above a modest prayer, but if you do. If you ask. 52 If you're wrong ... as if 53 one misconception 54 dissipates 55 the weight of our necessary fear.

 In the passage on page 84 Vardaman merely states that his mother is a fish, after the death of his mother. In Vardaman's case he is either young or suffering from some form of disability therefore it is hard for him to comprehend death. The only connection he can make is that his mother is dead as well as a fish. He concludes that because his mother is dead, his mother is a fish. Vardaman cannot understand how to move on now that his mother is gone. He is lost and confused, and the only comfort he can find is the connection to the fact that his mother is a fish. In some sense it relieves his confusion, but he unsure of what to do now that his mother is a fish. 

** SAMSON sect. 29**

As I lay in bed I can't help but think of the poor woman's body resting in her own filth. The stench of the coffin has bombarded even our homes firm walls, and as it slowly wafts through the floor panels into our bedroom, I realize the horrible life Miss Addie must have suffered. It is a constant reminder that her decrepited body is slowly decaying outside our walls. Although many believed even Addie Bundren to be ill in the head, I can't help but sympathize with her. If it were I who was forced to tolerate such shambles of a family perhaps I too would wish to be buried far far away from them. Even now as I lay beneath the comfort of my bed linens chills still crawl up my spine. Perhaps Addie's death, even while rotting amongst herself, is Addie's only chance at finding peace in this world. Out of the corner of my eye my wife attempts to act as though she is still content with staying in our bed. I myself fear that if the stench does not evoke tears from my eyes first, Addie's own pathetic existance will. Therefore I pose no objection as we listen to the Bundrens rise from their quarters and continue on their journey to seek Addie's final resting place. 

Diary Response Whitfield Whitfield **
 * Diary Entry

Dear Diary,

I am a man of my faith. With all honest I intended to tell Anse Bundren of mine and Addie's affair, but once I had arrived the Bundren's had left for the burial of Miss Addie. If there was ever more of a sign NOT to tell Anse I believe this was it. I am doing the right thing by not telling Anse, because after all it is my duty to follow the lord's signs. He obviously does not intend for the secret of Jewel to be exposed. Besides I had intended on telling Anse anyways. In no way is it my fault that I didn't tell Anse the truth. It was his choice to leave for the burial! As a man of God I know that God has supported my decision. Essentially intending to tell Anse is exactly the same thing as actually telling Anse. I am in the right. I have done the right thing. No one has to know about Jewel because God obviously wants no one to know.

Sincerely, Whitfield.



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<span style="display: block; font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 200%; text-align: center;">Whitfield's Section

<span style="display: block; font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 200%; text-align: center;"> Addie's Section: Blabberized

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<span style="display: block; font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 200%; text-align: center;">Darl's 'Insanity'

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