Classics and the Western Canon discussion

For our second week of interim reading between TSTF and Fear and Trembling, we bridge the two by considering faith and doubt in the "grotesque south" in the short story: A Good Man is Hard to Find, by Flannery O'Connor

One of many free links to the story:
https://learning.hccs.edu/faculty/sel...

Rare audio of the author herself reading the story:
http://www.openculture.com/2012/05/ra...

Bonus: Some Aspects of the Grotesque in Southern Fiction.
Audio: http://www.openculture.com/2013/04/li...
Written: http://www.en.utexas.edu/amlit/amlitp...

Feel free to comment on the essay as well. It may be of special interest to those who read Faulker's The Sound and the Fury with us recently.

Some things to think about when reading A Good Man is Hard to Find:
Is there any significance to the colors and how they are used in this story? Where are the vibrant rainbow colors are used and where are black and white used? Brown is mentioned twice in the same paragraph, to describe the burnt-brown skin of Sammy's wife and the Grandmother's eyes.

What are some of the instances of foreshadowing that you noticed; what effect does this amount of foreshadowing produce?

What purpose does the dialog between the grandmother and the children in the car about native states and the boy without pants serve?

What does the story gain by the scene at The Tower with Red Sam and his wife; is the place symbolic?

Why does the Misfit redden and apologize on Baily's behalf to the grandmother for Baily's shocking words to her? Does the Misfit redden in anger or gentlemanly embarrassment at Baily's behavior?

The grandmother's discussion with the Misfit is decidedly religious in nature. How many times does the grandmother deny what she knows to be true in telling the Misfit he is a good man; is there anything symbolic in her denials?

What does the Misfit mean when he says Jesus threw everything out of balance?

What does the grandmother realize when the Misfit's says, “there never was a body that give the undertaker a tip.”

How can the grandmother call the Misfit one of her babies? Is she confused because the Misfit is wearing her son's shirt, or does she realize some similarity between the Misfit and her family?

What is the significance of the happy, child-like disposition of the grandmother's body?

What does the Misfit mean when he says, "She would of been a good woman. . .if it had been somebody there to shoot her every minute of her life”?

Do you think the Misfit would have helped them and let them go if the Grandmother had not blurted out that she recognized him? Are there is any signs of regret or hope of redemption for the Misfit?

Excellent choice. I’ve read the story half a dozen times over the years, but never studied it.

Thanks for the links. I think I’ll try reading while listening tomorrow.

David wrote: "What does the Misfit mean when he says, "She would of been a good woman. . .if it had been somebody there to shoot her every minute of her life”?..."

From the beginning, the grandmother is identified as a hypocrite. She focuses on dressing like a lady, is willing to lie, deceive, and manipulate to get what she wants. She exhibits racist and classist tendencies. When she hears the shots killing her family, she shows concern for herself:

“I know you wouldn’t shoot a lady.”

Just before she is killed, she has a moment of recognition:

“She saw the man’s face twisted close to her own as if he were going to cry and she murmured, “Why you’re one of my babies. You’re one of my own children!” She reached out and touched him on the shoulder.”

This is the only time we see her stripped of her hypocrisies, stripped of her self-centeredness. She acknowledges a shared humanity with the Misfit.

So when the Misfit says, “She would of been a good woman . . . if it had been somebody there to shoot her every minute of her life,”

I think what he means is not that someone should actually kill her but that she would have been a better human being had she lived her life aware of her own mortality, i.e. aware that we are connected as human beings and we share the same fate.

That she dies with “her face smiling up at the cloudless sky,” suggests she experiences an epiphany before dying.

I think she experiences her epiphany before being shot. It is at the point of a gun that she changes.

“Why you’re one of my babies. You’re one of my own children!”

That's something God or a Christ figure might say.

With O'Connor you can't be sure. She might mean that at the point of death Christ enters her body, and it is Christ telling the misfit that he is one of His children. But the misfit means, I think, that only when faced with her immediate demise does she act like a Christian showing concern for others. So keep shooting her.

I felt the gradmother realized she never put much thought into her "metaphysics", so to speak, while the misfit has. The Misfit exposes this by questioning some very basic things immediately throwing the grandmother into doubt.

“Maybe He didn’t raise the dead,” the old lady mumbled, not knowing what she was saying and feeling so dizzy that she sank down in the ditch with her legs twisted under her.

As far as calling the Misfit one of her babies, the grandmother, seeing the Misfit wearing her son's shirt, seems to realize that as society failed the Misfit resulting in him not being a good man, she failed her son and grandchildren resulting in them not being "good people", i.e., disrespectful behavior expressed to her, to Red Sammy's wife, about their native state and other states, etc. In effect, she was raising other misfits.

Interestingly, in the audio, the audience laughs when the children poke fun at the states. The audience laughs at a couple of points in the story that I wonder if they wished they could take back by the end.

I don't see this family being portrayed as failures or as bad people. They are like thousands of other southerners of the time -- poor, opportunities few, every day is the same as the previous day, and hope is a hard commodity to come by. No wonder Grandma is sourpuss. She's worse than useless; she's a burden. Frankly her life sucks, and so does her family's.

They are all bored and withering under the summer heat of the south. This story seems to belong to the Naturalism (determinism) school of writing -- Stephen Crane, Conrad, etc -- in which life sucks, you can't change it, and then you die. The story that comes to mind is Crane's Maggie: A Girl of the Streets and Other Tales of New York

But this is O'Connor, so the determinism is going to be laced with religious references.

Xan Shadowflutter wrote: "This story seems to belong to the Naturalism (determinism) school of writing -- Stephen Crane, Conrad, etc -- in which life sucks, you can't change it, and then you die.

I think I may have a really warped sense of humor. I laughed so hard when I read this that tears streamed down my face.

Xan Shadowflutter wrote: "I don't see this family being portrayed as failures or as bad people. They are like thousands of other,..."

In real life, probably not so bad. However, this being a work of fiction, I suspect that if the shirt fits it does so for more reasons than they happen to wear the same size.

Also, if the story is so deterministic, then the Misfit would be irredeemable. In the end he sees no pleasure in life and that maybe he will come to regret his actions.

It seems there is a lot of irony in the story - The son didn’t have the mother’s sunny disposition; the grandmother didn’t want to go, but she was the first in the car; children were more respectful, as grandma points out the “negro” child; grandma says people are certainly not nice like they used to be…
I also thought the characters seemed to parallel each other in a way, although the Misfit seems to have a better sense of himself. When he talks about it’s best to “enjoy the few minutes you got left…No pleasure but meanness,” and from what is known of the family, they seem just mean for the most part, and get no pleasure out of life. They are rude and disrespectful to each other and most people they’ve met; they just want to get to the destination, not enjoy it on the way. Spreading meanness. What else is interesting, is that the Misfit treats the family with more kindness than they do each other. He feels like he has to kill them, but he doesn’t do it in front of the others, and he asks them to go with his associate like he’s asking them to go get him something.
Maybe the title “A Good Man is Hard to Find” is more inclusive of all the males in this story. Bailey isn’t nice to his mother at all, Red Sam was not nice to his wife, the son is not nice.
There’s really a lot to think about in the story.

This is a dreadful and appalling story, surely the product of a twisted mind. I am a worse man for reading it, and the world is a worse place for it having been written. It will take days to scrub this out of my mind. I have often thought that I should read some of O'Connor's stories because of her reputation, but now I shall take care not to, lest I become fouled again with something equally ghastly.

100% in agreement with you Roger. I can’t deal with such stories, I have decided not to read Stephen King ever and now this author, nothing on the planet will induce me to read her again.

I really appreciate who can read such fiction and sleep peacefully at night, I am not one of them.

Roger wrote: "This is a dreadful and appalling story, surely the product of a twisted mind. I am a worse man for reading it, and the world is a worse place for it having been written. It will take days to scrub ..."

Wow. Obviously you shouldn’t read things that upset you that much, but I’m surprised to hear this type of abhorrence/intolerance to violent themes in a group discussing the Western Canon.

Homer’s epic poems and the Greek tragedians wrote in beautiful metered verse, but also contain quite graphic violence and immoral/amoral behavior. The number of times a Shakespeare character walks on stage holding a decapitated head would seem likewise disconcerting. Poe, Dostoevsky, Faulkner, Toni Morrison, etc. all depicted violence as well as characters worthy of disdain.

I guess what I’m wondering is what exactly about the story did you find so offensive, Roger? I’ve always tended toward darker themes, so this is an honest question, not intended as a criticism.

Thanks for choosing this selection! I'd not read this story in decades, and it has prompted me to pick up the unread copy of O'Connor's Complete Stories on my bookshelf.

I was struck by how the Misfit has thought far more, more deeply, about good and evil, morality, right and wrong, and Jesus, than the Grandmother, who perceives herself as pious and upstanding, but has never truly examined these issues. She calls out for Jesus when she is fearing for her life. Perhaps the Misfit means by his comment that she'd be a better woman if she'd had a gun pointed at her every minute, that she would have been forced to ponder and examine these questions, as he has had to do.

Sam wrote: "I was struck by how the Misfit has thought far more, more deeply, about good and evil, morality, right and wrong, and Jesus, than the Grandmother, who perceives herself as pious and upstanding, but has never truly examined these issues."

Excellent observation. I was thinking about how shallow and superficial the grandmother was (thinking a poor black child is a comical photo op or that she can tell a person’s character just by looking at them). I hadn’t noticed that The Misfit really does seem to have given a lot of thought to those deeper matters.

It gives rise to the question in my mind of which is better off? The blissfully ignorant or those who think more deeply?

My opinion of the Misfit’s final pronouncement on the grandmother has changed over the years. Is he saying that she was kinder only when she was in fear for her life? That she would have been a better person if she had pondered her own mortality more? It’s always been thought-provoking and memorable for me.

There's a joke I heard several of my English professors repeat that prior to moving to the Deep South, they thought O'Connor was a master of exaggeration; when they actually came here, they realized she was the queen of understatement.

Of course, the truth is that O'Connor was a peacock-tending devotee of Thomas Aquinas and Dostoevsky, no cynic, and her letters are full of wit and good humor. But she "saw a darkness" in people and was truthful to it.

BrainPickings has some worthwhile quotes from her on the value of the grotesque in fiction. And let's not forget the early Sufjan Stevens song inspired by this story.

Sam wrote: "I was struck by how the Misfit has thought far more, more deeply, about good and evil, morality, right and wrong, and Jesus, than the Grandmother, who perceives herself as pious and upstanding, but has never truly examined these issues. ."

An excellent observation. It turns out that the Misfit has a more visceral understanding of good and evil, and a better understanding of Jesus than the grandmother does. The Misfit says "Jesus thown everything off balance," and this has real meaning for him insofar as he feels the punishment he received did not fit the crime he committed.. Salvation is for everyone, regardless of the severity of the crime -- as the MIsfit says, it doesn't matter what the crime is. This isn't justice. It's unbalanced. Jesus should not have raised the dead, he says, because this threw everything off balance.

"If He did what He said, then it's nothing for you to do but thow away everything and follow Him, and if He didn't, then it's nothing for you to do but enjoy the few minutes you got left the best way you can -- by killing somebody or burning down his house..."

Even though the Misfit obviously has not made the decision to follow Jesus, he understands what it means to do so. He takes it seriously. The MIsfit is almost an apologist for Jesus at one point when the old lady suggest that maybe Jesus didn't raise the dead. The old lady, on the other hand, has a common or "mean" understanding of Jesus which is as empty and cloudless as the sky.

The old lady's epiphany ("you're one of my babies") is puzzling, but I read it as an admission that she doesn't believe; like the Misfit, her "son," she can't believe. What makes her "good" at the end is the fact that she faces up to this.

The grandmother responds to the pain of the Misfit. He must choose between faith and denial. If he chooses faith, he will walk a different but still painful path; if he chooses denial..."then it's nothing for you to do but enjoy the few minutes you got left the best way you can -- by killing somebody or burning down his house or doing some other meanness to him. No pleasure but meanness,"
If he had been with Christ, then he would have known which to pick, but he is torn up over the fact that he will have to choose to believe without seeing-or not.
It is this anguish which the grandmother responds to when she identifies him with her son. The anguish of the human condition. She points to hope (albeit given her own condition/the trappings of original sin, this pointing is imperfect. But he responds to her recognition/that recognition of common, imperfect humanity, and, in killing her, denies/kills the response. He has made his choice once again, against Christ, and he acknowledges that that is a choice for death -"that's no real pleasure in life."
But, even as he does so, he accords recognition to the grandmother, acknowledging that, with all of her imperfections, their is a goodness, a hope at some level for humanity. And hope is one of the three theological virtues that point back to God.

David wrote: "Do you think the Misfit would have helped them and let them go if the Grandmother had not blurted out that she recognized him? Are there is any signs of regret or hope of redemption for the Misfit?,..."

I think it's implied that the dynamic between the Misfit and the family changes significantly when the grandmother recognizes him and blurts it out. However, when she tries to get the Misfit to say that he wouldn't shoot a lady, I also think that the interaction between her and the Misfit following that statement also serves to move him toward performing that very action. I'm interested in the Misfit's relationship with his two cohorts, Hiram and Bobby Lee. O'Connor doesn't overtly develop that relationship, but it's clear who is in charge by his manner of speaking to the other two men, and how he casually gets them to kill the family. I see a glimmer of regret at the very end in his observation about the grandmother and shooting her, but also in the very last line, in his attitude toward Bobby Lee and telling him to shut up. His statement, "It's no real pleasure in life.", could refer to the specific act of killing, or the unrestrained, lawless nature of the three men, themselves.

I am still thinking about a few things regarding the stop at The Tower My thoughts are mostly revolving around any possible allusions to a certain biblical tower and all of the talking going on there, and how they tie in to the rest of the story. Could the Tower scene have been edited out without taking away from the story?

Speaking of biblical references. I do think The Tower is one, but beyond a lot of cheap talk I am not sure if there is more going on there or not. I also think the grandmother denying the truth that the Misfit is a good man three times is a reference to Peter denying god three times; both were state of shock and fear of losing their lives. Did anyone spot any other biblical references?

How about the Tower of Babel? The dialogue is at cross-purposes. People not understanding each other, not communicating. People are talking at each other not to each other.

The grandmother is in a world of her own, asking her son to dance with the Tennessee waltz with her. He glares in response. June Star is rude to Sam’s wife. Sam silences his wife’s voice. The grandmother's words are perfunctory. She tells Red Sam he’s a good man, and he agrees, but he’s “struck” by his answer.

Red Sam has something in common with the Misfit in that they both seem to have given serious consideration to the topics of conversation. Red Sam voices genuine concern about how things have changed for the worse and the Misfit's talk shows he has thought seriously about religion. The grandmother, on the other hand, offers pat responses with little thought.

Jt wrote: "The grandmother responds to the pain of the Misfit. He must choose between faith and denial. If he chooses faith, he will walk a different but still painful path; if he chooses denial..."then it's nothing for you to do but enjoy the few minutes you got left the best way you can -- by killing somebody or burning down his house or doing some other meanness to him. No pleasure but meanness," "

The story is full of irony. The Misfit appears to have more moral and spiritual insight than the grandmother, as Thomas argues above (even if he does not follow either). Moral: he understands that in our earthly world, there is no true justice (his punishment did not fit his crime); Spiritual: he understands that "Jesus thrown everything off balance" because forgiveness/grace is incommensurable with human justice. Yet none of this makes him act with morality or forgiveness.

The Misfit's statements that there is nothing to do but "enjoy the few minutes you got left" remind me of Dostoevsky's phrase that if God does not exist, everything is permitted.

Thomas wrote: "The old lady's epiphany ("you're one of my babies") is puzzling, but I read it as an admission that she doesn't believe; like the Misfit, her "son," she can't believe. What makes her "good" at the end is the fact that she faces up to this."

I saw this differently. After we have seen how shallow the grandmother's faith is, she has a moment of clarity where she recognizes the Misfit as someone who could easily be her own child. I see it as the moment of grace in the story. So she dies smiling, because in that last moment she was able to have a spiritual insight and a measure of humility. Does this mean her soul can be saved? Perhaps. But, given O'Connor's dark outlook, maybe even this final moment of recognition was just shallow, and not true faith.

Ignacio wrote: "But, given O'Connor's dark outlook, maybe even this final moment of recognition was just shallow, and not true faith..."

A work obviously exists independent of its creator, but does anyone have a sense of the reader O'Connor tended to envision for her work -- how much was personal introspection about the world -- as a lot of writing is, did she hope to be read by certain audiences, did she have certain "targets" in mind as she wrote? (I have not explored her biography, nor do I think that is ever "necessary" in reading a work. I'm not interested enough to do so for F.O. right now, but share my musings on the possibility that others may have insights helpful to the rest of us.)

Ignacio wrote: "After we have seen how shallow the grandmother's faith is, she has a moment of clarity where she recognizes the Misfit as someone who could easily be her own child. I see it as the moment of grace in the story. So she dies smiling, because in that last moment she was able to have a spiritual insight and a measure of humility. "

This is how I see it as well.

Both the grandmother and the Misfit are controlling, manipulative persons. She does it verbally, he does it with violence. In this grotesque moment grace finally breaks through and we get a glimpse of humanity shining forth, a (tragic) recognition of the people they could have been had they not been so self-absorbed.

I have a different take on the story. To me A Good Man is Hard to Find is about evil. As a believing Catholic/Christian, O’Connor would have believed in the real existence of evil and of the devil. To this way of thinking/believing, evil is not merely an absence of good, nor is it cosmic indifference, nor is it relative. Evil is not just an idea nor can it be rationalized away, rather it is real and acts in the world.

As for the family, there is nothing particularly wrong with it; in fact it strikes me as not all that unusual. I also think we shouldn't lend too much weight to comments we today identify as racist; in 1950's America this was how white folks talked, and not only in the South. It’s tempting to over-analyze the grandmother because she talks the most, but she recognizes evil and tries to deflect it, all of course to no avail. We also shouldn’t be distracted from the theme of evil by the fact that Misfit quotes the Bible and talks rationally; the devil, the embodiment of evil, can quote scripture and talk convincingly. The devil in Faust does both.

The proximate cause of the tragedy is the cat. I read this two ways. In folk belief a cat is often used as a representation of the devil; read this way, the devil had a hand in the tragedy. Setting that aside, the frightened cat’s leap onto Bailey’s neck is one of many chance events that lead to the terrible end. I am reminded of the theme of chance in Tristram Shandy.

A number of comments expressed shock about the ending. Indeed it was shocking, but it seems to me that O’Connor pulled her punches here. Many serial killers would have raped and tortured their victims before killing them. And this too is real.

I agree, Gary. The misfit murders or orders the murder of an entire family, including children. He has no remorse. When he discusses Jesus with Grandma I believe he's mocking her and God and Religion and the idea of justice. You have to know your subject to mock it.

This is why I think he recoils when she has her epiphany and touches him. He recoils in the same way I imagine the Devil recoiling if touched by Jesus, as if he had been burned.

Lily wrote: "A work obviously exists independent of its creator, but does anyone have a sense of the reader O'Connor tended to envision for her work -- how much was personal introspection about the world -- as a lot of writing is, did she hope to be read by certain audiences, did she have certain "targets" in mind as she wrote?"

Flannery O'Connor is one of the Catholic literary giants of the 20th century along with J.R.R. Tolkien, Graham Greene, Evelyn Waugh, and others. Her writing is a reflection of the increasing secularism of the 20th century. She saw her writing as "the offer of grace usually refused." Meaning, we realize we do things that aren't good for us despite the fact we know we harm ourselves and others. She wrote the way she did because, "To the hard of hearing you shout and for the almost blind you draw large and startling figures."

Bishop Robert Barron did an entire episode in his Pivotal Players series on her and includes his interpretation of the theology of this story. I thought it interesting to note that he recommended to read her letters - she was a prolific letter writer - first before getting into her short stories and prose, for it gives a better picture of her and her zany humor. For me his advice came too late ;-)

This, in a nutshell, is how she was introduced to me. I am sure there are other interpretations.

David wrote: " Could the Tower scene have been edited out without taking away from the story?"

The Tower scene is where the title for the story comes from, which sets us to wondering what O'Connor means by "a good man.". The grandmother says that Red Sammy is a good man because he lets some fellers buy gas on credit. He might be a good man, but for petty reasons. The whole scene is dominated by pettiness and the mundane.

The monkey on a chain is too weird to ignore. I assume it's a symbol of evolution, which fits right in with the earthiness of the scene. I think a lot of this is meant to serve as a foil for meaningful spirituality and the truly Good Man.

I am glad we did not forget to mentioned the monkey. If we assume the Tower is a reference to the tower of Babel, and the monkey symbolizes evolution then the entire stop off is meant to be an exhibit of human folly and superficial ideas of good. I thought Sammy's letting the men buy gas on credit was insincere because he laments the lost revenue.

I wonder then how we should take June Star's comment, “I wouldn’t live in a broken-down place like this for a million bucks!” Is she an innocent child who has not yet lost the ability to appraise the low value of man's folly and not be taken in by it, or is she just rudely expressing value in material terms, i.e., money, like she did when she declared her grandmother wouldn't miss the trip for a million bucks?

David wrote: "I wonder then how we should take June Star's comment, “I wouldn’t live in a broken-down place like this for a million bucks!” "

Her mother thinks this crass response is "cute" and the grandmother thinks it shameful, which tells us something about their frivolous and petty characters.

To me the most shocking aspect of the story is not the Misfit's malevolence and violence but the fact that he is the only thoughtful character in the story. LIke Gary said above, the devil can quote Scripture, but I think the Misfit does more than quote it. He's actually taken it seriously. He has rejected it, of course, but he's still anguished about it. This constrasts starkly with the Grandmother's childish and superficial religious orientation.

Thomas wrote: "Her mother thinks this crass response is "cute" and the grandmother thinks it shameful, which tells us something about their frivolous and petty characters."

I can see it from the perspective of, cute, in a, kids say the darnedest things, way, but I also see the grandmother's perspective, and tend to agree with her, that June Star was being shamefully rude. I am not sure what is frivolous or petty about either of those perspectives or which is which. The former being better than exploding in anger, and the latter being judgmental without teaching. Other than being more candid with the little girl concerning her manners, I am not sure what a proper response should be.

Thomas wrote: "to me the most shocking aspect of the story is . . .the fact that [the Misfit] is the only thoughtful character in the story..."

Along with the overwhelming sense of vicarious dread evoked by the effectiveness of the inexorable march towards the shocking demise of the family by all the foreshadowing, the fact the Misfit is the most thoughtful character was a big part of the appeal of this story to me. It seems a realistic anecdote because of and despite my objection to the use of the common misconception that those who reject god must practice evil.

I have met many grandmothers. I recall a time I revealed to an older and long time acquaintance that I am an atheist. She indicated her grandmother-like confusion by replying, "But you can't be, you're such a nice person." In case there is any question, I am good man and let her live. :)

David wrote: "I am not sure what is frivolous or petty about either of those perspectives or which is which.."

It's certainly not a definitive statement, but I think it fits in with the grandmother's elitist decorum, her opinion of "common" people and how the olden times were so much better, etc. When in fact she herself is quite common-- as you note, we've all met many "grandmothers."

David wrote: " It seems a realistic anecdote because of and despite my objection to the use of the common misconception that those who reject god must practice evil.."

I think it's important to note that the Misfit does not reject the existence of God -- he rejects God. Big difference.

Atheists may not ascribe to the ethics of religion, but ethics and "goodness" can certainly be founded on non-religious precepts. It seems pretty clear to me though that the Misfit is not an atheist.

Thomas wrote: "I think it's important to note that the Misfit does not reject the existence of God -- he rejects God. Big difference."

I would agree with Thomas that the Misfit seems to have forcefully rejected God. Almost like Lucifer’s famous denunciation, the Misfit has considered God and determined that he will not serve Him. Instead, he’s determined to serve his own delights, almost in spite of God.

I’m also atheist and while I do think many Christians view atheist and amoral as synonymous, I don’t think the Misfit is intended as atheist so much as the embodiment of the Judeo-Christian concept of evil.

Personally, I view The Misfit simply as the Grim Reaper. The world will do what it will with all of us. No reasoning with or imploring will avert our eventual death.

Aiden wrote: ". . I do think the Misfit is intended. . .as the embodiment of the Judeo-Christian concept of evil.

Personally, I view The Misfit simply as the Grim Reaper. The world will do what it will with all of us. No reasoning with or imploring will avert our eventual death."

I agree there is an important difference between rejecting the existence of god and simply objecting to the one that is believed to be there. I often get the sense the former is considered more redeemable than the later, which plays into my previous questions. Also, I am hearing the Misfit is somewhere between a manifestation of a supernatural agent of evil and a force of nature ensuring worldly mortality. Either way the Misfit has a narrow, redemption defying job description. Is he redeemable? Is there anything in those last paragraphs indicating remorse or possible redemption?

“if I had of been there I would of known and I wouldn’t be like I am now.”. . .
. . .Without his glasses, The Misfit’s eyes were red-rimmed and pale and defenseless-looking. . .picking up the cat that was rubbing itself against his leg. . .

Is there anything that can be taken literally about the cat's name, Pitty Sing.

Also, I do not detect this from the text, but is it possible the family was killed by the car accident, and the whole episode with the misfit was played out in the grandmother's mind as she died? Would it make a difference?

David wrote: "Also, I do not detect this from the text, but is it possible the family was killed by the car accident"

I have to say the thought occurred to me that the family died in the accident and the Misfit fills in as a personification of death. The description of the accident seemed like it would have pretty brutal results, but the family apparently has no problem walking out into the woods to be murdered? The whole incident being some sort of instant-dream-on-death would also explain the many surreal qualities of the story like Red Sam and his monkey.

David wrote: " Either way the Misfit has a narrow, redemption defying job description. Is he redeemable? Is there anything in those last paragraphs indicating remorse or possible redemption?"

He calls himself the MIsfit because the punishment doesn't fit the crime he committed. In Catholicism, redemption doesn't fit the crime either. In the Gospels Jesus says he comes not for the righteous, but for the sinners. Everyone is redeemable, even the worst, and death is not the end... which makes the raising of the dead a salient topic indeed.

Kerstin wrote: "Flannery O'Connor is one of the Catholic literary giants of the 20th century along with J.R.R. Tolkien, Graham Greene, Evelyn Waugh, and others. Her writing is a reflection of the increasing secularism of the 20th century. She saw her writing as "the offer of grace usually refused."..."

Kerstin -- thanks for the background info -- including the reference to Bishop Barron, even if I never personally manage to create the time to chase down his work on O'Connor.

David wrote: "Aiden wrote: ". . I do think the Misfit is intended. . .as the embodiment of the Judeo-Christian concept of evil.

Personally, I view The Misfit simply as the Grim Reaper. The world will do what it..."

Pitti Sing is one of the three Little Maids from School in Gilbert and Sullivan's The Mikado.

Jt wrote: "Pitti Sing is one of the three Little Maids from School in Gilbert and Sullivan's The Mikado."

Nice catch, Jt. I did a little further research and found this bit of information on CourseHero.com. It appears the cat’s name is an allusion to the punishment-not-fitting-the-crime theme:

The grandmother's cat is an allusion to an operetta.

The cat Pitty Sing is a reference to the character "Pitti-Sing" from the operetta The Mikado by famous Victorian-era theatrical collaborators Gilbert and Sullivan. In the operetta, Pitti-Sing is a schoolgirl, a minor character, who stumbles onstage alongside two other schoolgirls in the first act. O'Connor borrowed the name because The Mikado includes the famous line "let the punishment fit the crime," which relates to her story's theme of divine justice.

-CourseHero.com

Compare the Misfit’s pronouncement at the end:

“I call myself The Misfit,” he said, “because I can’t make what all I done wrong fit what all I gone through in punishment.”

The grandmother lies about the hidden silver to convince her son to visit the old house.

There was a secret panel in this house,” she said craftily, not telling the truth but wishing that she were, “and the story went that all the family silver was hidden in it when Sherman came through but it was never found . . .”

“It’s not much farther,” the grandmother said and just as she said it, a horrible thought came to her. . .

. . .The horrible thought she had had before the accident was that the house she had remembered so vividly was not in Georgia but in Tennessee.

At first I wondered what difference does it make if the abandoned house was really located in Tennessee or Georgia. The lie about the silver made it a masterful touch in adding to the tragedy that could NOT have been avoided, creating an "Oh no Grandmother, what did you do now" moment, and show how liars get so caught up in their own lies they forget the truth themselves, until it is too late. But the most interesting thing about this twist was the establishment that knowing she was lying but wishing she was telling the truth is part of grandmother's character. The grandmother would demonstrate this characteristic three more times calling the Misfit, a good man, knowing she was not telling the truth, but wishing that she was.

I love how she is “thoughtful” enough to contemplate and prepare for her own death by making sure that she has all the trinkets necessary for her “judges” to find her a “lady”

“the grandmother had on a navy blue straw sailor hat with a bunch of white violets on the brim and a navy blue dress with a small white dot in the print. Her collars and cuffs were white organdy trimmed with lace and at her neckline she had pinned a purple spray of cloth violets containing a sachet. In case of an accident, anyone seeing her dead on the highway would know at once that she was a lady.”

Unfortunately for her, she spent her life preparing for the wrong judge, measuring herself against the wrong scale.

She warns them against going to Florida in order to avoid the very thing she [mis]led them to. She knew the place she promised them isn’t as “nice” and as full of mysteries (secret panel...) as she made it out to be. It dawned on her that after all the lies and manipulations and cajoling, she’s leading them to the wrong location anyway, and inadvertently sets a ferocious feline (one of Dante’s three beasts?) on the driver. And her main concern? Get an injury so she wouldn’t be held responsible for what she did.

“His voice seemed about to crack and the grandmother’s head cleared for an instant. She saw the man’s face twisted close to her own as if he were going to cry and she murmured, “Why you’re one of my babies. You’re one of my own children!” She reached out and touched him on the shoulder. The Misfit sprang back as if a snake had bitten him and shot her three times through the chest.
...
“She would of been a good woman,” The Misfit said, “if it had been somebody there to shoot her every minute of her life.”

I’m kind of with Xan on the epiphany reading, I’m not sure how to parse this, but the grandmother seemed to have lost her pretence and abruptly became sincere at the point (and also became grandmotherly... which fits her narrative identity). The misfit reacts as though it’s a “snake bite”. His verdict seems to suggest she could be good when she’s near the moment of her death, but otherwise, she drowns herself in comforting lies, false signals that are supposed to define your social status, your “goodness”.

“Without his glasses, The Misfit’s eyes were red-rimmed and pale and defenseless-looking.”

It’s like she almost got him to a place where he is vulnerable, let the dialogue go a little further, and he might have taken a bite of whatever sincerity and solicitude she tempted him with.

Who knows? If she went a little further, he might have turned into a “good man,” but, alas, a good man is hard to find.

Lia wrote: "Who knows? If she went a little further, he might have turned into a “good man,” but, alas, a good man is hard to find.
"

Excellent!!!

David wrote: "Also, I do not detect this from the text, but is it possible the family was killed by the car accident, and the whole episode with the misfit was played out in the grandmother's mind as she died? Would it make a difference? "

To me that's the big "what if" in the story.

Rereading this short story made me pick up her complete collection and wow. Really enjoying it. Found this recent New Yorker article on O'Connor an interesting read. https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/20...

Sam wrote: "Rereading this short story made me pick up her complete collection and wow. Really enjoying it. Found this recent New Yorker article on O'Connor an interesting read. https://www.newyorker.com/magaz..."

Thank you for The New Yorker article. It is somewhat balanced on the concern though the description “Reckoning with Flannery O’Connor’s racism” and the article’s subhead “How racist was Flannery O’Connor” show the editor going along with the current media frenzy as in most of the magazine issue from June 22nd.