Peck's novella the book is "A Short Stay in Hell".

Doe 4

John Doe

Professor

English 2200

13 February, 2013

“I Can Just Look at You and Tell”: The Ambiguity of Moral Labels in Flannery O’Connor’s “A Good Man is Hard to Find”

In the short story, “A Good Man is Hard to Find,” Flannery O’Connor nears the end of her narrative with the grandmother protagonist attempting to persuade a violent murder and recently escaped criminal, referred to as The Misfit, to spare her life. As the remainder of her immediate family is systematically murdered by the Misfit’s associates, she insists, “I know you’re a good man…I can just look at you and tell” (405). This relatively straight-forward plea sparks an unexpectedly thoughtful and almost existential philosophic response from The Misfit, who relates, “I been most everything. Been in the arm service…been twice married, been an undertaker, been with the railroads, plowed Mother Earth, been in a tornado…” (406). The Misfit casually lists these various identities, reflecting mostly to himself it seems, without directly responding to the grandmother’s ‘good man’ label, complicating her capricious assignment of moral character based on simple observation. In an ironic shift, O’Connor sketches The Misfit in a way that allows readers to sympathetically view the moral complexity of the antagonist, despite his horrific complicity in the surrounding acts of violence. Comment by Windows User: Intro

O’Connor’s calculated obscurity of moral labels permeates her narrative, as seen by The Misfit’s purposeful blurring of his own identity as he reminisces, making it difficult for the grandmother, and readers alike, to shallowly assign moral value on base observations – or, as in the grandmother’s case, wishful thinking. Indeed, O’Connor employs multiple literary methods in an effort to question the decision to simplistically define a ‘good’ person. Specifically, her use of given names, the symbolism of clothing or outward appearance, and the narrative point of view all work together to explore the theme of moral complexity and judgment. Comment by Windows User: Bridge Comment by Windows User: Thesis Statement

The first outward indication of character that O’Connor employs, and often twists, is her use and specific choice of given names. Perhaps the most obvious instance of this is with The Misfit himself, since his title appropriately places him within a moral gray area; he doesn’t seem to fit in with the moral absolutism that surround him. At their first meeting, the grandmother is quick to label, “You’re the Misfit! I recognized you at once” (404). The irony of the grandmother immediately placing a protagonist who embodies the idea of not being easily placed, further sheds light on O’Connor’s thematic commentary. The fact that The Misfit is a self-proclaimed title suggests that he has paradoxically found a fixed identity. “I call myself The Misfit…because I can’t make what all I done wrong fit what all I gone through in punishment,” he explains (408). His recognition of injustice is what really prompts his title, since he seems to be the only character within the narrative who recognizes moral inconsistency. Comment by Windows User: Topic Sentence

O’Connor’s choice to name the children also reveals insight into the theme of moral labels. The grandson, named John Wesley, seems to be a reference to the 18th century religious reformer of the same name; the founder of Methodism. Her choice to appropriate the name of an historic religious figure seems like a jarring juxtaposition given the actions and dialogue of the grandson, who busies himself by kicking his father’s seat in the car, speaking of smacking The Misfit in the face, and describing the state of Tennessee as “…a hillbilly dumping ground” (398). Likewise, the daughter, June Star, is equally, if not more of an obnoxious ingrate who continues to insult those around her up until the time of her death: “I don’t want to hold hands with him. He reminds me of a pig” (407). As a character who is disappointed that there are no fatalities after the car accident, she doesn’t seem to align with her name as a shining summer star – unless O’Connor is satirically commenting on Hollywood. These two characters’ names are inconsistent with their behavior, further critiquing outward moral labels as often being completely wrong. Comment by Windows User: Transition to sub-point (and topic sentence) Comment by Windows User: Textual evidence in the form of summary and quotation

Finally, the son, Bailey, seems to be given a common, everyday name, whose actions and dialogue are noticeably mundane. The mother and baby are given no names, and virtually no dialogue. Thus, the parental figures and youngest grandchild are nearly cardboard cut-out set pieces, who seem to function as contrasts to the more dynamic characters that readers are more readily willing to judge. Since readers have virtually little to go off of - especially a name, in the mother and child’s case - O’Connor suggests that not only can outward manifestations of character be flat wrong, they may not tell us anything at all. The grandmother, too, also lacks a name, which is curious given that she’s the protagonist; however, she is provided with another visual marker of moral character. Comment by Windows User: Final sub-point Comment by Windows User: Transition to next main point

As primarily represented through the grandmother, symbolic clothing is another literary method through which O’Connor explores the theme of moral labeling. The narrator richly describes her attire early in the narrative: “…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” (398). The grandmother’s comment that she wants to be recognized as a lady if she ends up dead on the side of the road - in addition to a macabre foreshadowing - functions to establish her perceived identity as a morally upright, southern gentlewoman. Much like the other characters in the narrative, however, her actions and dialogue speak the opposite. She lies about the secret panel and chooses not to reveal her mistake after the crash, which undermine her outward appearance. Furthermore, her verbal cries of prayer and Jesus, at least initially, seem like shallow rhetoric which accompanies her ornate and deceptive attire. When meeting with The Misfit after the accident, the symbolism continues: “The grandmother reached up to adjust her hat brim…but it came off in her hands…she let it fall on the ground” (409). Her outward and deceptive image sheds and later, depending on how readers interpret the end, the grandmother is genuine for the first time in a brief moment before her death, as she reaches out to The Misfit. Here, O’Connor again questions the idea of outward moral labels, in this case, self-proclaimed.

Perhaps more subtle in regards to symbolic clothing (or lack thereof in this case) is the brief scene involving a black youth on the side of the road as the family passes by (Hill, 2013). The reader learns through June Star that the “Negro” boy isn’t wearing pants. The grandmother responds, “He probably didn’t have any. Little niggers in the country don’t have things like we do” (398). This assumption, although not an overt character judgment, carries negative socioeconomic connotations, augmented by racial prejudice; both of which are outward appearances. O’Connor ironically provides the black youth with one, arguably significant, gesture: “He waved” (398). Compared to the selfish characters within the car, as primarily evidenced through the grandmother and two grandchildren, the stranger youth extends a gesture of friendship. Again, O’Connor counters outward appearances with action, which suggest a more complicated inward character. Comment by Windows User: Transition to next sub-point

One final way in which O’Connor obscures the label of ‘good’ is with her noticeably removed narrative point of view. Through an aloof, objective narrator, readers are related the events of the story in a manner that makes it difficult to genuinely sympathize with any members of the family. More importantly, O’Connor provides readers with only limited information on which to make judgments, namely action and dialogue. Thoughts and feeling are unexplored by the narrator, making is difficult to reach definitive conclusions about any given character’s moral code, forcing readers to closely scrutinize action and dialogue. Had O’Connor chosen to craft an omniscient narrator, the ambiguity would certainly be lost, since readers would be essentially spoon-fed. Even when the violent murders take place, for instance, the narrator simply relates events, without commentary: “There was a pistol shot from the woods, followed closely by another. Then silence,” (406) and “There were two more pistol reports” (408). The narrator’s use of the word “report” seems appropriate as it aptly characterizes the style of narration. As a result of the calculated narrative point of view, O’Connor parallels the labeling of morality among characters within the narrative by enabling readers to potentially fall into the same habit of misidentification, if they merely skim the surface. Comment by Chris: Last main point

Combined, O’Connor’s utilization of given names, symbolic attire, and narrative style come full circle and provide significant insight into one of the primary themes of moral labeling within the narrative, and the title itself. Since O’Connor suggests that the very conception of moral goodness is slippery at best, indeed, a good man is hard to find, let alone define. Comment by Chris: Conclusion

Work Cited

O'Connor, Flannery. "A Good Man is Hard to Find," The Norton Introduction to Literature: Portable 10th

Edition. eds. Alison Booth & Kelly Mays. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, Inc., 2011.