Apex Hides the Hurt (2)
November 16, 2007 by marina628
This book is out there I must say, but it really has me tuned in and interested. The folks on “my end” of the table today in class were discussing how Whitehead introduces something, but doesn’t quite give enough information to really draw them in. I feel like that isn’t really the case for me. Again, the history of the town is addressed but in a different way this time. The entire library scene was really interesting to me. The librarian chick or whoever she is caught my attention with the way she is introduced as basically being sucked into the town by Lucky and just decided to stay. I get this feeling Lucky, this great man who everyone is so mesmerized by, has something hidden about him that I’m not so sure of yet (but I know its there).
Since I have so many thoughts about this novel I’m going to shift to something else. We didn’t have a chance to talk about the maid today in class, but shes definitely really interesting. The notes under the door are really terrific in a creepy way. She writes things that make her sound like a third grader, and I always get the impression that the narrator actually thinks shes cleaning his room and then hes shocked to see that nothing has changed. I’m a little confused by it all so I think I need some more clarification because it’s really fascinating whats going on with him and the maid.
So to switch yet again, the narrators little meeting with Albie has a lot going on. When they begin to discuss Quincy the narrator begins to get a little sexual. On page 70 he says, “He got laid for the first time at a party his freshman host had taken him to, and the Quincy name now meant manhood, or at least the end of expectant masturbation and the start of default masturbation”. After that point I got this feeling of sexuality at certain parts. This came out of nowhere and surprised me quite a bit, but what else was really odd was his fantasy about the librarian. He says,
Something in her movements jostled a heavy-lidded thing in his brain stem, and he had a very concrete image of the librarian in her bedroom, on her bed, leaning back, bit of thigh, little feather of panties just visible. He realized it was his first sexual thought in months, not counting what had been wrought by that damned series of shampoo commercials. The shampoo commercial as arena for erotic play had alternately vexed and titillated him during his convalescence. (9
He gives the feeling that not only are these dirty thoughts and discussions surprising to the reader, but to himself as well. I don’t know where I’m going with this other than the fact that it was off because these bits of information came out of nowhere. It doesn’t exactly fit in with the librarians brief history of the library and her wealth of information about the town, but for some reason Whitehead felt like he should just through it in there. Based on the passage above I associated his sexual fantasy to his “misfortune” or loss of a toe. Since the loss of his little toe kept him isolated and limping around everywhere, maybe these dirty thoughts were just what he needed to revive himself?!
I guess it would help to keep in mind how infamous this novel is for throwing its reader some curve balls to keep them alert and always thinking…for me anyway.
I like the thoughts you’ve mentioned so far. I think my post is going to be very similar to that since I’m kind of shot in terms of forming any coherent sentences… Anyway, the part I most wanted to comment on is the sexual thoughts the narrator has. Like you, they caught me off guard. Much of the novel so far has been fairly straightforward — or if not straightforward, at least empty of sexual references and then once there was one, a bunch seemed to follow. I find it sort of weird because there was obviously quite a bit of sex in “Written on the Body” but it didn’t creep me out as much as the narrator in “Apex” imagining the librarian on her bed. I’m also thinking that with how many stereotypes he brings up and mocks, I think this may be another one…. The naughty librarian seems to be a fixture in most heterosexual men’s brains so this seems to be another comment that the narrator/Whitehead is making. Comment in reference to what, though? I’m not sure….
The maid is hysterical. She’s so pushy, demanding, unnerving. What makes this so funny? I wonder what gives her the right to be this way.
In her first attempt to gain access she says, “I need to get inside! You should be up by now!” It’s as if the corporate cogs in the wheel must keep the machine running like clockwork. Every day jobs like that of the maid’s keep things moving, circulating, advancing. Without this progress, the door and everything else threaten to splinter under the weight of resistance. Get up, get out, and do something productive. Isn’t this the American work ethic? No time for rest!
It’s almost eerie the way she’s so demanding. Her anger at the narrator’s refusal to grant access in the name of her progress is unreal. It’s as if the tables are being turned on our nameless wonder. He typically pushes, prods and manipulates the public into doing their job – purchasing, purchasing, purchasing. Now he stands in the way of progress and feels the wrath.
I look forward to seeing more of this woman with the crazy, crashing cart.
I’m going to do it Marina, I am going to bridge that gap that separates the end-of-the-table-globules, and reply to your post. I think I’ll have to agree with your globule-mates that Whitehead often suggests something, but then leaves the reader hanging, or perhaps it is the reader’s fault for assuming that whatever has been deemed necessary for the novel is necessary for us as readers to take notice of. Besides the library scene, the conflict with the housekeeper is never resolved, and the Nomenclature Guy never seems to find peace with himself.
Perhaps we are expecting something from this novel that it does not intend to give: solution, or absolution. I think it might be suggesting that there are no happy mediums in tensions between classes or races. There has been so much physical and emotional damage done that it may be impossible to find a common ground that prevents anyone from feeling that they were not ‘made whole’.