Morrisons skill in creating this very specific place accounts, in part, for my sense of the strangely familiar,Â theÂ uncanny, when I read her novel--but only in part. While reading, I am familiar not only with Pecola's neighborhood but also, in a more generalized way, with Pecola's story.Â TheÂ sequence of events in this story--a sequence of rape, madness, and silence--repeats a sequence I have read before. Originally manifest in mythic accounts of Philomela and Persephone, this sequence provides Morrison with an ancient archetype from which to structure her very contemporary account of a young black woman. InÂ theÂ pages which follow I want to explore intersections between these age-old myths and Morrison's ageless novel.
For an account of Philomela, we must turn to Ovid, who includes her story in his Metamorphoses (8 A.D.). According toÂ theÂ chronicler, this story begins with an act of separation: Procne leaves her much-loved sister, Philomela, to join her husband, Tereus, in Thrace. After several years, Procne convinces Tereus to make a trip to Athens and escort Philomela to Thrace for a visit. In Athens, Tereus barely manages to curbÂ theÂ lust he feels for Philomela. He caresses her with hisÂ eyes, watches possessively as she kisses her father good-bye, and uses each embrace, each kiss,
Deprived of speech and lodged in "walls of stone," Philomela weavesÂ theÂ tale of her plight into a piece of fabric, which she then sends to Procne. When Procne learns of her sister's grief and her husband's treachery, she determines upon a most hideous revenge; she slaysÂ theÂ son she has had with Tereus and feeds his remains toÂ theÂ unsuspecting father. While Ovid's story ends with this feast, popular mythology adds yet another chapter, transforming Philomela into a nightingale, damned forever to chirptheÂ name of her rapist: tereu, tereu.
Obviously, male violating female functions asÂ theÂ core action within Philomela's story. Under different guises, this violation occurs several times: first, when Tereus rupturesÂ theÂ hymen of Philomela; second, when Tereus rupturesÂ theÂ connecting tissue of Philomela's tongue, and, finally, when he enters her body yet again ("Thereafter, ifÂ theÂ frightening tale be true,/ On her maimed form he wreaked his lust anew"(n5)). With each act Tereus asserts his presence, his sensual realm, and deniesÂ theÂ very existence of such a realm (encompassing not only sensuality, butÂ theÂ senses themselves) to Philomela. As if to reinforceÂ theÂ initial violation, Tereus, following his act of rape, encloses Philomela in silence, in stone walls. He thereby forces her to assume externally imposed configurations instead of maintaining those natural to her.
If man-raping-woman functions asÂ theÂ most basic "mythemic act"(Â n6) in Philomela's story,Â theÂ most basic mythemic inter-act involves not only this pair, but another: father and sister ofÂ theÂ rape victim. When, for example, Ovid notes that Tereus, lusting for Philomela, "wished himself her father," and whentheÂ chronicler describes Philomela, inÂ theÂ midst ofÂ theÂ rape, calling out her father's name (for help, of course, but for what else?) he setsÂ theÂ act of violence within a familial matrix. Thus, we cannot limit consideration of this act's motivations and ramifications to two individuals. Interestingly enough, however, just asÂ theÂ basic mythemic act (man raping woman) robsÂ theÂ woman of identity, so tooÂ themythemic interact; dependent upon familial roles for personal verification ("mother of," "sister of," "wife of"(Â n7))Â theÂ female must fear a loss of identity asÂ theÂ family loses its boundaries--or, more accurately, asÂ theÂ male transgresses these boundaries.
Having notedÂ theÂ most important structural elements in Philomela's story, we cross an ocean, several centuries and countless historical, racial, and class lines before coming to the story of Pecola. Despite obvious contextual differences betweenÂ theÂ two stories, structural similarities abound. Individual my themes from Philomela's story appear, without distortion, in that of Pecola. First, in various ways and at various costs,Â theÂ female figure suffers violation: by Mr. Yacobowski, Junior, Bay Boy and friends, Cholly, Soaphead. Second, with this violation a man asserts his presence as "master," "man-in-control," or "god" atÂ theÂ expense of a young woman who exists only as someone to "impress upon." Third, followingÂ theÂ violation/assertion, this woman suffers an enclosure or undesirable transformation; she cowers, shrinks, or resides behind walls of madness. Finally,Â theÂ most characteristic example of violation/assertion/destruction occurs withinÂ theÂ family matrix; Cholly Breedlove rapes his own daughter, violating a standard code of familial relations. We now might look more closely at individual instances of mythemes structuringÂ theÂ Pecola story.
An early, and paradigmatic, example of male transgression and subsequent female silence occurs inÂ the"SeeÂ theÂ Cat" section. Junior, a tyrannical, unloving black boy, invites a rather credulous Pecola into his house, ostensibly to show her some kittens; like Philomela, Pecola has no idea ofÂ theÂ dangers involved in trusting herself to a male guide. Once inside, engrossed in admiration ofÂ theÂ furnishings, she forgets about Junior until he insists that she acknowledge him:
Junior does not actually rape Pecola, Morrison, however, duplicatesÂ theÂ dynamics ofÂ theÂ scene between Junior and Pecola in a scene between Cholly and Pecola, where rape does occur. Eleven-year-old Pecola stands atÂ theÂ sink, scraping away at dirty dishes, when her father, drunk, staggers intoÂ theÂ kitchen. Unlike Tereus and Junior, Cholly does not carry his victim into foreign territories; rather, Pecola's rape occurs within her own house, and this fact increases its raw horror (Morrison denies usÂ theÂ cover of metaphor and confronts us directly with a father's violation of his daughter). As Morrison explains, several factors motivate Cholly, butÂ theÂ two thoughts floating through his besotted brain immediately prior to his penetration of Pecola point, once more, to his desire for confirmation of his presence. First, a gesture of Pecola's, a scratching ofÂ theÂ leg, reminds him of a similar gesture of Pauline's--or, more accurately, reminds him of his own response to this gesture. He repeats his response, catching Pecola's foot in his hand, nibbling onÂ theÂ flesh of her leg, just as he had done with Pauline, so many years before. Of consequence here is not Pecola's gesture, but Cholly's belief that he can regain an earlier perception of himself as young, carefree and whimsical by using this girl/woman as medium. When Pecola, however, unlikeÂ theÂ laughing Pauline, remains stiff and silent, Cholly shifts to a second train of thought, a second stimulus to self-assertion: "TheÂ rigidness of her shocked body,Â theÂ silence of her stunned throat, was better than Pauline's easy laughter had been.Â TheÂ confused mixture of his memories of Pauline andÂ theÂ doing of a wild and forbidden thing excited him, and a bolt of desire ran down his genitals, giving it length" (p. 128). Thus, on a literal level, Cholly expands as Pecola contracts:
To enforce this silence, Cholly need not cut off Pecola's tongue or imprison her behind stone walls.Â Thedepresencing of Pecola Breedlove takes a different form from that of Philomela. Upon regaining consciousness followingÂ theÂ rape, Pecola is able to speak; she tells Mrs. Breedlove what has happened. But as Mrs. Breedlove does not want to hear and does not want to believe, Pecola must recognizeÂ thefutility of attempted communication. Thus when Cholly, like Tereus, rapes a second time, Pecola keepstheÂ story to herself; in silence this eleven-year-old girl steps across commonly accepted borders of reason and speech to enter her own personal world of silence and madness. Pecola's "self" becomes so crazed, so fragmented, that it conducts conversations with itself--and with no one else:
Of course, when Pecola comments that her mirror image does not engage other people in conversation, she engages in self-commentary; "I" and "you" are one andÂ theÂ same. Tragically, even when combined, this "I" and "you" do not compose one whole being. Claudia's description ofÂ theÂ mutilated Pecola leaves no doubt that she no longer exists as a reasonable human being; like Philomela-turned-nightingale,Â the"little-girl-gone-to-woman" undergoes a transformation:
In depictingÂ theÂ effects of rape on one young woman, Morrison sets into motion a series of associations that take their cue from gender. Men, potential rapists, assume presence, language, and reason as their particular province. Women, potential victims, fall prey to absence, silence, and madness.(Â n9) An understanding ofÂ theÂ powerful dynamics behind this allotment of presence/absence, language/silence, reason/madness along sexual lines contributes to an understanding ofÂ theÂ painful truths contained in Philomela's story, in Pecola's story, and inÂ theÂ story of yet another rape victim: Persephone. While dearly related toÂ theÂ Philomela myth, that of Persephone differs in certain details which, when brought toÂ TheÂ BluestÂ Eye, prompt an even richer reading ofÂ theÂ novel. Before engaging in an application of Persephone's story to that of Pecola, however, we might look at three different renditions ofÂ thePersephone myth, each of which may advance our understanding ofÂ theÂ way Persephone's and Pecola's stories intersect mythopoetically.