These chapters opened with Paul D’s reflection on his recent behavior with Beloved. Although he initially decides to tell Sethe about the last three weeks, even travelling to her place of work to do it in person, he cannot bring himself to confess to her. Throughout this scene, I continued to notice the use of the number four. As Paul D waits for Sethe he notices “four kitchen dogs waiting for scraps” (149). Later in the scene, as Paul D and Sethe walk through town they notice “four women, walking two abreast” (154). On the very next page, Morrison writes, “it was nearly four o’clock now.” She also writes that Sethe has been meeting with Beloved for four months. The house on Bluestone road coincidentally has four rooms and it is four men who later try to recapture Sethe. I was originally unsure of the meaning behind the motif of the number four, but now I’m wondering if it is somehow symbolic of Sethe’s four children and her past trauma that she is unable to escape. Throughout the novel, objects in Sethe’s environment appear in fours. Sethe is unable to forget her children, even after one has died, and two have run away. Perhaps the persistence of the number four demonstrates Sethe’s unwavering love for her children, even after everything that has happened. Or maybe the persistence of fours is something far darker. They may represent a part of Sethe’s past that she struggles to escape from—an appendage of the mental chains that harness her to the past.
In the subsequent chapters, the pace of the book quickens.
As a reader I felt the sense that the book was beginning to reach its climax. This
is first hinted at when Baby Suggs describes that she smells something “dark
and coming.” As Suggs tries to guess at what this dark and coming thing could
be, she reflects that it can’t be news of Halle’s death because she’s prepared
herself for that. She reminds herself that “it wasn’t worth the trouble to try
to learn features you would never see change into adulthood anyway,” (something
she has done seven times for each of her seven children). As a side note: 1+2+4=7.
I might be reaching a little far here, but I think everything Morrison does in
this novel is intentional. This idea that Baby Suggs never bothered to learn
the features of her children because they would likely die before adulthood is
incredibly horrifying to consider. The horror and shock I experienced when
reading these chapters only grew.
The next chapter opens with the focus on the four horsemen.
Here, Morrison depicts the cruel perspective with which these men view slavery.
The men describe Sethe as having “gone wild,” repeatedly relating her to
nothing more than a horse, hound, and other animals devoid of humanity. This chapter
culminates in the following scene: “Inside, two boys bled in the sawdust and
dirt at the feet of a woman holding a blood-soaked child to her chest with one hand
and an infant by the heels in the other. She did not look at them; she simply
swung the baby toward the wall planks, missed and tried to connect a second
time” (175). My initial reaction to this scene was a mixture of shock,
confusion, and horror. I stormed into Katherine’s room, sat down on her bed,
looked her in the eyes, and asked “is Sethe crazy.” She only replied, “not at
all.” As a reader it was easy to consider whether or not Sethe’s actions were
justified. My initial reaction was the same as the four horsemen: How could she
have done something like that. However, what’s more important is not whether Sethe
was justified in attempting to kill her children but rather the idea that she
had to consider doing so in the first place. When Sethe reflects on her journey
to 124 Bluestone Road, she explains, “when I jumped down off—that wagon, there
wasn’t nobody in the world I couldn’t love if I wanted to” (191). Having
endured the atrocities of slavery, Paul D understands what she means. He
explains that amidst the brutality and loss associated with slavery, it’s not
worth loving anything for fear it will be taken from you, “so you protected
yourself and loved small. Picked the tiniest stars out of the sky to own; lay
down with head twisted in order to see the loved one over the rim of the trench
before you slept …A woman, a child, a brother—a big love like that would split
you wide open in Alfred, Georgia. He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a
place where you could love anything you chose—not to need permission for desire—well
now, that was freedom.” Cue the tears! This passage is probably my favorite
from the entire novel. I think Paul D’s reflection on the ambiguity of morality
puts Sethe’s actions into perspective. Sethe’s actions are a testament to the cruelty
of slavery. While Paul D has chosen to love little in order to preserve his
safety, Sethe, upon arriving at 124 Blustone Road, allowed herself the freedom
to love whoever. She loves her children so much she would never allow them to
suffer what she experienced at Sweet Home. In her eyes, death is a mercy in the
face of slavery.
The last (and I promise the last thing because this blog post
is so long sorry) I noticed during these chapters was the symbol of trees and
the duality behind their meaning. Up until this point, trees have represented
sources of healing, protection, and comfort—they represent finding beauty amidst
the trauma and evil of the world. Denver finds solace in her emerald closet and
it serves as a space of comfort that offers a reprieve from the isolation and loneliness
she feels at home. Amy describes Sethe’s scar as a chokecherry tree, turning
evidence of human cruelty into something of beauty and growth. When Sethe and
Paul D walk through town, they notice “black trees lining the roadside, their
defending arms raised against attack” (152). However, as Sethe and Paul D argue over the
morality of her actions, Paul D comments “You got two feet, Sethe, not four”
(195). Paul D’s comment carries with it a remorseful tone. He reminds Sethe of
her humanity, suggesting that her attempts to kill her children were unusually
cruel and animalistic. I found it interesting how, like the four horsemen, Paul
D too relates Sethe in this moment to an animal, citing her actions as inhumane
and wrong. Following this comment, “a forest sprang up between them; trackless
and quiet” (194). In this moment, the meaning of trees shifts from one of protection
to a symbol of separation and isolation. As the forest thickens, Paul D and Sethe
grow further apart, culminating in Paul D’s departure from 124 Bluestone Road.
As I reflect on this reading, I am reminded of the idea that
slavery destroys everything it touches. Not only does slavery impart on its
victims severe mental and physical trauma, but it forces individuals to make
unimaginably difficult decisions. It severs ties not only between racial groups
but even amongst people of shared backgrounds and experiences. Most of all, it
shows how the practice of slavery has lasting consequences—physical, psychological,
and societal—even after it ends.