Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Only My Eyes are Left


Morrison triggers certain feelings as I read every passage. At first, he described Claudia’s self-image so well that I understood her desperation to dismember the blue-eyed doll. Then she lets me stand by the kitchen dinner table and dodge Cholly as he catapults into a stove, feeling every blow to my face and wishing his death just like Sammy did. I feel the cold climb up my spine as I too nag about the lack of coal in this household, because at some point we are all just going to freeze. And now, I want to disappear with Pecola but my eyes are the only thing that keeps me from vanishing. I’m always so close.

Her use of detail and shift in narration, allows me to experience every emotion and feel every stimuli that bounces off the walls of the household. It becomes so detailed that I feel the floor thud as Mrs. Breedlove limps into her room. This is the kind of reaction that every author should achieve through dialogue, exposition, or narration.

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