Uncle Sonny

One of the things that struck me in "Sonny's Blues" was the stark resemblance between Sonny and the narrator's uncle. Throughout the story, the narrator is struggling to understand Sonny on a more personal level. The story opens when the narrator, a respectable (though perhaps stuck-up) algebra teacher hears his brother got arrested on heroin charges. The fact that he learns this news through the daily paper and not a relative (or Sonny himself) is indicative of the broken family dynamic. Indeed, both the parents are dead, and Sonny's closest relative seems to be a heroin junkie that seeks out the narrator shortly after this incident. Even after Sonny is jailed, it still takes a while for the narrator to reach out to him. It isn't until his daughter Grace dies from polio that he finally decides it's time to write Sonny a letter. Upon Sonny's return to the free world, the narrator makes an effort to get to know more about Sonny.

At first, the narrator is convinced that Sonny went down a bad, irresponsible path, and there's nothing he could've done about it. Upon further reflection, however, he realizes that he may have played a role in Sonny's demise. He thinks back to the conversations he had with his mother:

"I want to talk to you about your brother," she said, suddenly. "If anything happens to me he ain't going to have nobody to look out for him."
"Mama," I said, "ain't nothing going to happen to you or Sonny. Sonny's alright. He's a good boy and he's got good sense."
"It ain't a question of his being a good boy," Mama said, "nor of his having good sense. It ain't only the bad ones, nor yet the dumb ones that gets sucked under." (116)

Here, the narrator's mother is trying to get him to understand the impact he has on his younger brother. Even though the narrator doesn't know it at the time and dismisses Sonny being a concern, he later comes to realize that there are less tangible things he could've done to protect Sonny. As his mother keeps talking, she opens up to him about his father's brother, which the narrator never knew he had. What struck me about this uncle was his distinct similarity to Sonny. As a young boy, the narrator's uncle "would sing, he had a fine voice, and play along with himself on his guitar" (117). Unfortunately, he would not live to follow his passions, as he was soon run over mercilessly by a carful of drunken white men. The narrator's father, who witnessed this event, was scarred for life.

As the narrator is spending time with post-prison Sonny, he reflects back on this moment. At this point, I found it to be no coincidence that the narrator's uncle was a happy, musical boy who met an unfortunate end. Sonny has also expressed a passion for music, namely piano--a passion that the narrator tried to stray him away from. Upon Sonny's incarceration, his vulnerability to the outside world becomes real. When Sonny asks the narrator if his nephews will even remember him, I couldn't help but compare Sonny to the narrator's uncle. In fact, the uncle's legacy has been lost, as no one in the family even knew who he was. By this token, I had to consider what would have happened if Sonny died of a heroin overdose, or simply drifted away from the family. I think there is something important about one's legacy, especially among their loved ones. It makes me sad that Sonny may have very well been forgotten, just like his uncle, had the narrator not made any attempts to reconnect with him.

Salinger's Children

In Nine Stories, Salinger features an array of stories that may seem disjoint at first, but upon closer inspection have underlying themes that bring them together. Namely, the presence of children, especially in an upper-class, adult-dominated environment, is clear. By having a good portion of the stories center around kids who still don't know everything about the world (but may claim to), Salinger succeeds in making Nine Stories a relatable and thought-provoking read.

In "A Perfect Day For Bananafish," the first story of the series, the audience sees a high maintenance, somewhat snobbish Muriel Glass have a phone conversation with her overbearing mother. Meanwhile, her husband, Seymour Glass, is outside on the beach, not really enjoying himself either. We learn that he is a war veteran, and because of this is it safe to assume that he is suffering from some form or another of PTSD, making it hard for him to relate to others. Soon, however, a young girl by the name of Sybil Carpenter joins him, and the two are hitting it off. During their encounter, it becomes clear that Seymour can communicate with children better than adults. He yearns for Sybil's playful innocence, a characteristic that many seem to cherish throughout the novel.

Similarly, "Uncle Wiggly in Connecticut" features two socialite ladies (Mary Jane and Eloise) drinking alcohol in one of their suburban homes as Eloise's daughter Ramona plays around in the distance. Upon being called in and asked to introduce herself to Mary Jane, it is revealed that Ramona has an imaginary friend, Timmy. Mary Jane finds this just marvelous, but Eloise is pretty annoyed. Here, it is clear that Eloise wishes her daughter were more mature and ditched the imaginary friends. She then turns back to Mary Jane and starts confessing that she doesn't really love her husband and actually finds him quite bland. Ramona comes running in saying Jimmy was run over, which prompts Eloise to send her to bed. Over the course of the night, Mary Jane and Eloise are drifting in and out consciousness as a result of their heavy drinking. At one point, Eloise gets up and goes to Ramona's room and has a breakdown when she sees her daughter is lying to the edge of the bed so as to leave room for her new imaginary friend, Mickey. It becomes clear at this point that Eloise regrets her life and wants to shield Ramona from things that could harm her. Her hysteria at the end of the story backs up this point.

At this point, I still have a lot I could say about the children in the other stories. In "Just Before the War with the Eskimos," it is interesting to study the effect of Franklin on Ginnie, as well as Ginnie and Selena's relationship. "The Laughing Man" is literally narrated by a small child, which we can use to make claims about how this alters the perspective of the story. "Down at the Dinghy" also features a young boy who hears something that sounded mean, even though he doesn't know what it was exactly. His mother works around his innocence and has to make a decision whether to preserve it for a little longer or to tell him what really happened. "For Esmé--with Love and Squalor" focuses on a girl who acts mature for her age, and as a result she succeeds in making a positive impact on the narrator's life. Finally, "Teddy" deals with some important life-or-death, genius child-or-troubled kid themes. During our class presentation, we delved into the plethora of issues at hand when it came to Teddy's personality, and his youth definitely has something to do with it. I would be interested in hearing what you guys have to say about these stories, since I don't think Salinger used so many children just by coincidence.