To understand Flannery O’Connor’s short stories is understand the rural South that she was familiar with in the pre-1970s. Her stories focus on aspects character in human, every-day situations all revolving around her South, dealing with race relations, Christianity, rural versus city living, parent-child relationships, etc. She brings the reader into the settings by capturing thought processes, a style I found engaging. I enjoyed reading her stories, although they illustrated a lack of hope in human nature.
Themes
Race and Class
I found the most common theme in Flannery O’Connor’s stories is race and class, looking at conflict between generations. A great example is “Everything that Rises Must Converge.” In this story, a progressive young man must ride the bus with his older mother to the YMCA because she is “afraid” of the blacks on the integrated buses. He wants to teach her a lesson, but in the end he realizes he still needs his mother, as “old-fashioned” as she is.
Race and class often mix in O’Connor’s stories. In “Revelation,” a self-satisfied judgmental woman is baffled when a young girl calls her a rude name; in the end, she (maybe) realizes the folly of her judgments.
Other stories clearly dealing with race and class also include rural versus city conflicts. Some of these stories are “The Artificial Nigger” (a father and son visit Atlanta); “The Displaced Person” (a Jewish refugee family joins the farm); “A Late Encounter With the Enemy” (Grandpa fought in the civil war); and “The Geranium” and “Judgment Day” (an old man, living in New York City with his daughter, longs to return to the South to die; these are essentially the same story, one written at the beginning and one at the end of O’Connor’s career).
Isolated, Lonely People
Some of my favorite stories were about lonely, isolated individuals seeking for a place. In “The Crop,” a lonely woman sits down to write a short story-and forgets where she is. I love this story because I can relate to this writer: she can’t figure out how to get the story from her head to paper. In “A Stroke of Good Fortune,” the woman ponders a fortune teller’s message, and the reader, following her thoughts, knows what it is. I loved how clueless she was as I followed her thought process.
While others weren’t favorites, they were also about lonely, isolated people: “You Can’t Be Any Poorer Than Dead” (14-year-old must bury his grandfather); “Good Country People” (a lonely girl with a wooden leg finally trusts someone, the good country man selling bibles); “The Life You Save May Be Your Own” (mother gets her mute daughter married to a nice, good country man); “A View of the Woods” (a lonely, selfish grandfather idolizes his granddaughter); and “The Enduring Chill” (a lonely, unsuccessful writer returns to Georgia to die).
Christianity (Good versus Evil)
Flannery O’Connor’s stories also deal with Christianity and good versus evil in general. Her view of good and evil in the face of Christianity is intriguing.
“A Good Man is Hard to Find” is probably the most familiar O’Connor story, but I really don’t like it. Grandma gets her family lost on a side road. They meet a murderer, who Grandma is sure she recognizes as a good man. I think it’s a look at how everyone has good, and yet, we’re all missing good too; we’re all condemned. I find it a bit disturbing.
In other stories, people try to save each other through religion and because of religious training. In “The River,” the boy’s caretaker, Mrs. Conin, wants to “save” him with religion. In “Parker’s Back,” Parker gets one more tattoo that he thinks his religious wife will appreciate. In “The Comforts of Home,” Thomas’s mother thinks she can save a loose woman from corruption. In “The Lame Shall Enter First,” Sheppard thinks he can redeem a criminal boy who shows more promise than his own son.
Compared to the Others
I found Flannery O’Connor’s stories to be completely unlike the others I’ve read in the past few months. And yet, I still try to compare and contrast.
As did Chekhov, O’Connor focuses on specific characters in a specific setting, keeping the scenarios tight. Somewhat like Maupassant, O’Connor’s stories focus on base human desires and situations. In contrast to James Joyce, who was careful to develop a scene, O’Connor throws us into it to a scene and we must feel our way until we understand the setting (and yet it is still marvelously developed). Also, while Hemingway captured scenes mostly through dialog, O’Connor captures her scenes through incredibly realistic thought processes.
Unlike O. Henry, her stories are not “feel good.” In fact, I almost hated reading some of the stories, because I knew, following her style, that just before the character finds redemption, something would go wrong and they’d be damned, or killed, or otherwise without hope. In subject matter, then, I think her stories most closely resemble Jhumpa Lahiri’s stories in Interpreter of Maladies, which capture the isolation immigrants feel. While O’Connor’s characters aren’t immigrants to the United States, they seem similarly confused by their loneliness in a changing Southern environment.
HTR&W
I didn’t agree with a lot of Harold Bloom’s comments in How to Read and Why on the specific stories he discusses, but his general comments on O’Connor’s style are interesting. He focuses on the religious aspect of her work, how everyone ends up damned as I mentioned above, and how O’Connor doesn’t expect anyone to be redeemed.
…the best way to read her stories is to begin by acknowledging that one is among her damned, and then go on from there to enjoy her grotesque and unforgettable art of telling.
Harold Bloom captures what my main gripe was with O’Connor’s stories, although he thinks it’s a beautiful trait. It is, but it’s still a bit annoying in bulk:
…readers need to be wary of her tendentiousness: she has too palpable a design upon us, to shock us by violence into a need for traditional faith.
I sometimes didn’t like the violent shock at the end of each story: but that may be because I was reading all of her short stories in the same week. If you read Flannery O’Connor, read her in installments.
In the end, Flannery O’Connor certainly has a marvelous but morbid story telling ability.
Have you read Flannery O’Connor? What do you think of her stories? Did you like “A Good Man is Hard to Find”?
One of my professors in college was a Flannery O’Connor scholar, so I had a good dose of her in college. What was amazing is that sometimes he would suddenly stop in the middle of teaching and hit his head, saying, “Now I get it!” or something like that. It’s really amazing to watch someone who has immersed himself in an author to still have moments of epiphany! 😉 (epiphany, of course, being the key word!) I love O’Connor. I always wanted to have triplets and name them Flannery, Harper, and Carson. I’m weird.
I also was exposed to Flannery O’Connor in college. The voice of her story is unique and gifted. I agree that a Good Man is Hard to find is disturbing. Not so much my cup of tea, but it is one of those that I can still see the writing gift beyond my own uncomfortable feeling with the story. And the same with Good Country People. I had a professor that would review O’connor with the class and he had a way of talking about the stories with irony and humor, which helped lessen the blow of negativity.
SmallWorld Reads, I too really loved O’Connor’s stories, although I’m torn by the tragic endings sometimes. Maybe I just don’t love reading them all all at once. And I can see how one could constantly have epiphanies in reading them. There is so much there.
Toni, I think Flannery O’Connor meant for them to be somewhat humorous and I think you’re right that that irony helps “lessen the blow of negativity.” Great way of putting it! Yes, the writing talent does outweigh the uncomfortable feeling of the story. I think that’s part of O’Connor’s gift: she writes the difficult things, and captures them well.
I think I read “Good Country People” in college, and remember being really disgusted by the main character, and feeling really sorry for her.
I think O’Connor is disturbing in a good way, sort of like Shirley Jackson’s short story “The Lottery.” You don’t want to read it exactly, but you have to keep reading because you want to know what is going to happen. I don’t think I would want to read a ton in a row, but occasionally I enjoy the absurdity and well, gross-ness, of her characters.
yes, I’d agree that O’Connor’s disturbing is “in a good way”. I need to reread some Shirley Jackson too.
I love Flannery O’Connor. My capstone English class in college concentrated on comparing and contrasting her works with those of Willa Cather, Graham Greene, and Dante. Crazy eh? Anyway, even though I think she is a master at the short story, I agree that it is never a comfortable read. It’s works for me, though, especially in a short story. Maybe I just like the macabre – my other favorite short story writer is Roald Dahl.
Jessica, I like calling O’Connor “macabre.” Good description! Good but not comfortable by any means…
I’ve never been much of a short-story fan, but I might have to pick up some Flannery O’Connor now!
Dreamybee, I think a few Flannery O’Connor stories would be a nice place to start!
I have wanted to read Flannery O’Connor for a long time now. I order one or two of her books from the library, put them in the TBR-pile and then perhaps read a page or two, put it back and forget all about it until they are due at the library again…But I WILL keep loaning her works and some day I might be in the mood!
This recap of themes will definitely be a help next time I try.
Louise, I think her stories are very good, but I’d suggest just reading a few at a time, because all at once they become a bit repetitive in theme.
I had read The Greenleafs when i was doing B.A.
At that time the story arouse my curiosity.to know more about the author, since I became interested in her story.
Now I have read all 31 short stories of her and one of her Novels (Wise Blood), actually I’m doing PhD on her short stories. 🙂