Is Macon following a hero's journey (regardless of whether or not he is a hero)?

I honestly don't know what to think at the end of Angry Black White Boy. The ending left my mouth hanging. While the book prompted a lot of discussion about race and made me want to voice my opinions, the end left me relatively speechless and confused about Macon Detornay. The ending of the book is way more dramatic than I had expected. It follows the classic heroic paradigm both closely and completely differently and I can't really tell if it is mocking a hero's journey or not. At the end of the novel, Macon goes through the supreme ordeal, he goes through the resentment felt towards the hero that is often found in extremely dramatic heroic narratives, he goes through the whole at-gunpoint choice. At the same time however, the book is so extreme, so unrealistic and bubbling with emotion and violence that it feels like a mockery of the heroic narrative, especially with Macon dying at the end. The fact that Macon dies is huge part of the ending, and is strange for a heroic narrative arc. Adam Mansbach even ends it somewhat sarcastically with, "...and Macon joined his ancestors." As soon as I read that line, I was struck by the sarcasm that Macon could be so different from his roots but he the author phrases his death like that.

Throughout the last chapter, the alternating feeling between sarcasm and Macon's idea of himself as a hero and the feeling of sympathy and distraught contributes to my confusion about the author's perspective on the heroic narrative arc of this novel. As we've seen throughout the novel, the physical events that take place can make us sympathetic for Macon and his allies, but when we see how self-absorbed Macon is in his idea of a hero, and his idea that he is his only hero, I cringe away from Macon's internal attitude. The other thing messing me up about Macon's heroic journey is that everything is out of place. Macon becomes a celebrity really quickly; usually something reserved for the hero's return home. His major refusal of the quest/big tragedy (though he does protest at interviews originally) comes later when he flees the riot scene. And of course, Macon dies in the end without having been re-united with most of his allies or without the audience seeing some sort of peace with the state of the country. Also, unlike many heroic narratives, nothing is explained, and the Doctor "acting" situation took me really by surprise. Like Macon, the "hero's journey" in this novel is all over the place and contradictory at times, but also thought-provoking and definitely emotional.

Macon: Right, Wrong, Undefinable?

We've been talking in class about Macon Detornay's "right" to talk about civil rights issues, the black community, and the white community. While I definitely find issue with parts of Macon's self-image, as we progressed through the first half of the novel he sounded more genuine, and less comedic, to me. On page 141, Macon makes a couple of thought-provoking comments. Macon describes his take on how racial discussions have progressed. "...all they really learn is not to talk about it." Later on 141, "I think plenty of white people do know deep down that they're part of an evil system, and they learn not to think about it, because it would disrupt their lives." In this part of the novel, Macon doesn't feel like he's crossing a boundary into cultural appropriation, but rather bringing up an important and still-relevant point. As I read further, I'm finding that I find some opinions that Macon outwardly projects valid, even crucial, to encourage discussion about race. However, I still find issue with his self-glorification and am doubtful about his true reasons behind everything he does.

Whether or not it is "right" for Macon to be the face of a resistance movement, Andre and Nique make a good point on page 149, when they are talking about how a white person is able to slip through legality and jail time with more ease than a black person. While Macon finds difficulty justifying his cause to the black community, his white privileged status makes it easier for him to confront white people without as much restriction, and not get shoved aside.

I don't really think there is a "right answer" when it comes to talking about race. There isn't a rulebook for who should or shouldn't talk about what. I don't like many things Macon does or thinks, but I also see some truth and importance in some arguments he brings up to the public in the novel. Unless you are a victim of an issue, I think there is always a fine line between unnecessary heroism and genuine empathy. In our relatively privileged community itself, we talk about poverty and global health while drinking purified tap water and throwing away half the things we buy. But is it still important to discuss global and local issues and try to help? Yes. While there are things Macon could do so that he was trying to help a cause by actually listening instead of acting like a hero, I don't think his character can be boxed in, since he does make thought-provoking comments as the novel progresses, in the first half of the book.

Note: This was written a couple days ago, so obviously my opinion about Macon may have changed. Might follow up with a completely different outlook in my next blog post.

The Nightingale: Two Paths of Resistance

I don’t often cry after or while reading a novel, but I think I wept through the entire second half of The Nightingale, by Kristin Hannah. Published in 2015, this World War II fiction follows the journey and very different expressions of rebellion of two sisters during the Nazi occupation of parts of France. The older, Vianne, has a young daughter, and her husband is a soldier enlisted in the French army. The younger, Isabelle, lives with her older sister and is reaching adulthood. The Nightingale was not just an emotionally charged and powerful story about a woman’s life during war. The effect the book has is quite subtle and the plot surprising. My immediate reaction to the book was exactly what the reviewers quoted on the back cover said you would come away with; a sense of what is means to be a woman who goes through a hardship, not just in times of war but wherever and whenever you exist in the world, including myself in a somewhat privileged society in the 21^st century.

Though I read The Nightingale something like a year ago, the more I reflect on it the more I recall. The book appears to stick closely to a good versus evil storyline, with the French Resistance on one side and Nazis on the other. However, it’s not that simple. The storyline quickly jumps into the Nazis invading the countryside where the older sister lives, and creating basically an extended and more formal rape-and-plunder scenario. Here, we meet the “conflicted” Nazi; the one who may have some moral compass but stuffs it down (I’ve seen this kind of a character in other WWII books as well). We also meet an obviously horrible and disgusting Nazi, who takes the personified form of the evil that can represent the war raging across the world. Vianne, in short, endures and protests in her own ways while under Nazi watch, while Isabelle takes a completely different and more vocalized route and joins the French Resistance, right under the Nazis’ noses. (that’s not really a spoiler).

As their stories unfolded I kept thinking, what would I do? And even in this day and age, is the simple harsh reality of suffering as a woman still exactly as it was in the 1940s? What does it mean to be a hero and be a woman? Vianne has obvious responsibilities, which is her daughter and younger sister. Isabelle has responsibility as well but she feels it less as the younger of the two, and is completely opposed to not taking action against the invaders. Vianne fights back by allowing the Nazis to take advantage of her in order to protect her daughter. Isabelle sets out to fight physically, joining a network of localized Resistance members. Both are not necessarily responding to an outward call, but an inner one in an effort to survive.

This book presented me with two different paths, pulling me in two different directions when it came to aligning with which I found more heroic: a path of action or a path of protection? I felt I somewhat understood Isabelle’s youthful need to get up and fight back aggressively. At the same time, Vianne absorbed everything for the sake of her family, which I’ve seen and heard women do all the time throughout history, and greatly respect. The book’s narrative is set in a different time with characters living completely different lives. While elements of a hero’s journey were completely evident, the book traced strikingly unique heroic intricacies. While a typical hero may destroy the enemy, these heroines are in part destroyed themselves, while their legacies live on. Since reading this book, I think I’ve better realized that the women who are silently enduring pain in this world are fighting as hard as the ones who hit back. I realized the capacity of absorption that is part of being a hero (I’m sure it’s not restricted to just women). I’m generally more inclined to get up and move. I’ve always found Rocky-type heroes who put literal blood, sweat, and tears into their efforts compelling. The Nightingale showed me the understated and under-appreciated rebellion that is silence.