Maternal figures/relationships in Brown Girl, Browstones and Vertigo

Finally! Something in English! Unfortunately this paper was written for an extremely bitchy professor... I don't remember much about this class except that I probably got a B on this paper, undeservedly. The prof hated me, therefore I hated her... that's the way it is, sometimes. I still think this is a pretty decent paper, though.


HUI390
Bona
17 December 2006


Maternal figures/relationships in Brown Girl, Brownstones and Vertigo

As we have seen in all the works of women’s literature studied in this class, the topic of motherly relationship and mother figures has been featured prominently. How are the mother figures presented in Louise DeSalvo’s Vertigo and Paule Marshall’s Brown Girl, Brownstones? How does the relationship between the main character and her mother affect her personality, the persona that she inhabits, and the life decisions that she makes? How are these mother figures different and how are they similar? What themes do we see in mother-daughter relationships that transcend both works, regardless of ethnicity, and how, if at all, should this affect the way we read and interpret other works written by women?

The stories of both Selina in Paule Marshall’s Brown Girl, Brownstones, and Louise in DeSalvo’s Vertigo, are bildungsromans; that is to say, stories of growth and development. Although their respective fathers do seem to play an integral part in both girls’ lives, it is ultimately the mothers with whom both women identify and eventually, on some level, come to embody. During the course of both books, according to Rosalie Riegle Troester in her essay Turbulence and Tenderness: mothers, daughters, and ‘othermothers’ in Paule Marshall’s Brown Girl, Brownstones, each of our female protagonists independently becomes “stronger through her rebellion against her mother and [realizes] finally that she is her mother in some deep and eternal sense” (Troester 13).

One problem that the majority of girls face while growing up is that of distancing themselves from their families, in particular the mother (presuming they have a mother figure to begin with). An anthropologic trope commonly explored in literature is that of a daughter’s inherent need for dis-identification with their mothers. There are two principal reasons for this seemingly biological desire: one, that they don’t want to repeat history; and two, they are afraid that they will become their mothers. Yet by the end of both novels, both women are confident enough with their own identities to see clearly the paths their mothers have taken, and make active choices as to how they themselves will incorporate this into their own life journeys. Louise sees that she has inherited the depression that destroyed her mother, and actively fights it by intellectualizing, writing, and going to therapy. Selina sees that she is making similar detrimental choices in men, and eventually decides to personify elements of both her father and mother by remaining true to herself and returning to Barbados.

Both Selina and Louise grow up in a household with both parents and one sister, and in both cases they are the “stronger ones”, where the sisters are weak. Compellingly, in both girls’ cases the parents have a lack of communication that puts stress on their respective relationships, ultimately affecting the children. During their childhood and adolescence, both feel tension between their parents, causing them in a sense to “take sides”. Selina is naturally more like her mother Silla, yet makes an active choice to align herself more closely with the father, Deighton. The father’s free-spirited, impractical nature provides a welcome respite, even a means of escape, from the stern and formidable force of the mother. Yet ultimately Selina is forced to face facts and come to terms with the identity she shares with her mother. At the end of the novel, after her encounter with Mrs. Benton, Selina comes to understand herself in terms of ethnicity, ultimately appreciating her mother’s life choices and an understanding of herself. In Louise’s story we see the mother dying before the father, while in the case of Selina the opposite is true. It is only after the mother has died that Louise can go through her belongings and come to accept her mother as a human being. Although Louise is confused by and resentful of her mother, she still prefers her company to that of her father. The resentment she harbors for both parents is really the foundation for her blatant escapism and rebellion in her teen years and, actually, until after her mother’s death.

Both girls feel a need to “get back at” their mothers, for one reason or another—in the case of Selina, it stems from their constant struggle for control, and in the case of Louise it is out of rebellious escapism. Both Louise and Selina are “caught in a mortal conflict” with their mother, often doing extremely hurtful things in order to test the strength of their relationship. Louise tries to “punish” her parents with her sharp tongue, trying to “get back at them… for everything”. A comparable case in point is Selina’s drawn-out grieving for her father. This is of course a very telling exercise in hypocrisy, as it shows that Selina obviously cares more about Silla than she did for the father anyway, if she is willing to spend so much energy putting on a show about how much more she cared for Deighton, in order to “punish” Silla.

Both Selina and Louise are ambivalent in their daughterly roles, “feeling love and respect in the midst of [their] hatred and both [emulate] and [ridicule their] mothers’ values” (Troester 15). Louise is horrified by the food she is served at home, commiserating with her college friend Rebecca and making fun of everything her mother cooks. Selina finally plucks up the courage to visit Silla at work (out of spite, armed with the fact that she has spilled the beans about the mother’s plan), yet when she gets there, her pride falters momentarily—she is, even in her anger, awed by the strength of Silla, the only one of their family who could possibly withstand the cacophonous noise and chaos of the factory: “Only [Silla’s] own formidable force could match that of the machines; only the mother could remain indifferent to the brutal noise.” (Marshall 100). Even though she thinks she is prepared to stand up to her mother, Selina at this point in the novel has a lot of maturing to do, and it is not until later in the novel that she is able to actively fight against Silla and hold her own

The immigrant mentality of both women’s mothers keeps them working furiously, Louise’s toiling away inside the home and Selina’s outside. Silla’s bold and commanding personality is blatantly different from that of Louise’s mother, who degenerates into a pitiful state of psychosis spurred by episodes of depression throughout her life. Troester says that “Black mothers…sometimes build high banks around their young daughters, isolating them from the dangers of the larger world until they are old and strong enough to function as autonomous women” (Troester 13). And in the case of the Boyces, this is true: Selina is shielded both from having to work and from facing the harsh reality of being a black girl in a white world. Yet, if Silla is the “quintessential Black mother—strong, protective, purposeful, and determined” (Troester 14), then Louise’s mother is the opposite of the “quintessential Italian mother”. The stereotypical Italian mother is a good cook, a stoic and secure force that is innately able to shoulder wifely duties and raise a passel of children effortlessly. However, Louise’s mother is radically different—although she tries, she can neither cook nor provide a central “motherly” force for her daughters; she is inexplicably timid and constantly conflicted as to how to raise her children. With a tangible sense of both sadness and resentment, Louise underlines her mother’s frailty when it came to raising children, suspecting that her mother’s own sense of worth was always fragile, believing that she is an incompetent mother... and that the more powerless she felt, the more depressed she became(DeSalvo 47).

Deighton has a fear of success; in contrast to Louise’s father, who is fearless. In fact, the parental roles are almost reversed between these families. While Louise’s father was, as she puts it, “alive”, her mother was “afraid” (DeSalvo 43). This seemingly offhand comment both gives shape to DeSalvo’s memoir and allows us to see the relationship of the Boyces in a different light. In stark contrast to Louise’s mother, Selina’s is “alive”, courageously carrying the weight of the family while Deighton the father is afraid, at least in the sense that he is afraid of finishing what he starts, responsibility, and change. His dreamy nature inhibits any ability to see success (for either himself or his wife, especially in the hostile and foreign environment of Brooklyn). The indomitable Silla, however, becomes frustrated and angry with Deighton’s laziness and fear of taking chances, eventually taking matters into her own hands in order to save her family.

Both mothers have a somewhat removed relationship with their daughters. Unlike Louise (whose relationship with her mother is based less on fear and subordination and more on resentment and misunderstanding), Selina dares not show weakness or shortcomings in front of Silla. Louise, on the other hand, is the tougher and more outgoing of the two, disgusted and often bewildered by the fears and weaknesses of her mother. Although Louise’s mother is as strong and practical as Silla, her depression inhibits her from being able to do the things she wants to do.

The mothers of both Louise and Selina are actually rather intelligent, yet each has independent issues that restrict them from being able to pursue this. It is important to recognize that mothers are people too—they were once young, having had dreams and aspirations just like their daughters. Another common paradigm in literature is the idea of “artistry in conflict with marriage”. Finally yielding to Silla’s will, Selina is able in a sense to restart her life, and furthers her education by going to college. Somewhat surprisingly, Louise’s mother won a high school prize for writing, but was prevented from attending college due to monetary issues. Whether or not she realized it, this may have planted a subconscious seed in Louise’s mind to complete a task that her mother couldn’t finish. Clinical Depression is something Louise (as well as her sister Jill) has inherited from the mother, and although it is a somewhat unfortunate inheritance, it does serve as a vehicle for Louise to identify with later in life. What Louise has come to realize, however (and we as readers ought to do the same) is that her mental hang-ups allow her to become the artist that she is, using literature and writing as a form of therapy. The non-literary, prosaic nature of Vertigo is emblematic of her development into womanhood and her ability to put her thoughts down so clearly on paper. Similarly, Brown Girl, though a much more “traditional” novel, is full of descriptive language that accurately reflects the wonder with which a growing girl would see the world.

Louise believes that she has “kept [her] sanity by keeping [her] distance from her family”, not wanting to be “drawn back into their orbit”. This is true of her throughout her whole life—she forces her husband Ernie into marriage because it was her only means of escaping from her family. Selina also wishes to escape from her family through her relationship with Clive, however she comes to see many similarities between him and her father, particularly his lackadaisical inertia—like Deighton, Clive is incapable of finishing what he starts. The connection between the two becomes so clear to Selina that she decides to leave Clive and strike out on her own, yet another act to differentiate her life and her actions from those of her mother.

Because of her husband’s weaknesses, his inability to take command of the family business and make sensible decisions, Silla plots to overthrow him, confident in her capability to do so in his stead. Deighton is past-oriented, as opposed to Silla’s proactive, survivalist-in-the-new-world approach. In opposition to this, Louise’s mother is subservient to the father, a characteristic typical of not only Italians but of many immigrant peoples, especially before the feminist revolutions of the 1960’s. Louise never forgives her mother for loving the husband more, nor forgave her for letting him make the rules as soon as he came home (DeSalvo 59). However, this passage is quite significant as it provides a comparison between Silla and Louise’s mother: This emphasizes the autonomous (and decidedly second-or-third-generation) nature Louise comes to personify as an adult, standing up to her husband and putting her own interests before that of others. After watching the unhealthy relationship of her parents, as well as weathering her own turbulent marriage, Louise decides to embrace the concept of being herself—by deciding to be not just a mother, not just a wife, but finding time to do her work rather than dote upon her children—shows her refusal to conform to rules of marriage and motherhood she would otherwise be expected to uphold.

Both girls continually make “desperate attempts to deny the mother daughter bond”. Even though Louise’s mother plans a beautiful meal when Ernie comes over to dinner in spite of her fear of knives and fire, Louise still must find something wrong with it, something to complain about. She can never be happy with her mother’s efforts to make her happy, even when they are so agreeably conceived. Selina challenges Silla when she confesses to having told about the plan to obtain the money from the father’s land. Yet Selina’s “bold plan” is not so much one of defiance as much as it is echo of her mother’s, further emphasizing the similarities between the two. Just as Louise is able to see the correlation between herself and her mother retrospectively, Selina finally accepts that she is her mother’s daughter, inexorably linked with her to the end. Similarly, the mother must also come to understand, accept, and forgive. Ultimately, upon realizing an almost sacrificial resignation on the part of the mother, the daughter eventually comes to feel not only guilt but respect and admiration. Coming full-circle, the daughter’s recognition of this stoicism on the part of the mother is crucial to an admission of similarity, and eventually, self-understanding.

In conclusion, both Brown Girl and Vertigo can be read as bildungsromans, novels of formation, in addition to illustrations of various experiences in mother-daughter relations. The mother-daughter relationships that we have seen of both Selina and Louise superficially seem quite different: one is an Italian American third-generation memoir, and one is a Barbadian American second-generation narrative. Yet, we can see influences of both immigrant cultures through the perseverant nature of the mothers, and we consequently see this same resilient spirit in their daughters. The inherent necessity for a daughter to bear the mother’s torch forces both women to employ a sense of self-empowerment, by creating a distance between herself and her family (in this case, particularly the mother). It is necessary for both Louise and Selina to create this distance before they are able to return home and ultimately come to terms with their identity, specifically the inevitable similarities they share with their respective mothers. Through the development of both characters, the significance of mother-daughter relationships becomes clear. Furthermore, experiences like these are common to all women, regardless of ethnic background, and inextricably linked with the literary works they produce. Therefore, it is important to analyze such mother-daughter relationships among all works written by women, if we are to continue formally the study of the feminine experience in literature.