Isolation

by | Feb 1, 2021

My first attempt at a literary research exploration with a focus on two texts, a novel and a play.

To Kill a MockingbirdTo Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Something I came to discover during my second or third reading of this book, is how Dill and Mayella Ewell are the two stark products of identities that could arise from a state of abandoned and isolated origins.

As random as it may seem, Mayella and Dill are kindred spirits because of their tendency to rely on deception to draw comfort from their uncomfortable upbringings. Mayella, conditioned to abuse white privilege for the sake of self-preservation, uses deception to deny her own father's inhumanity. And Dill, embeds himself so deeply in daydreams and false realities, that he’s lost his sense of true familial identity along the way.

But of course, Dill’s delusion didn’t cost a man his life, or children the oblivion of their youth. That’s why Mayella’s disappointment as a character weighs heavier than ample pity for a boy devoid of a home.

What Dill preserves with the advantage of his impressionable age, is the ability to retain raw, sensitive and empathetic instinct. Where Mayella’s nurturing inclinations are reserved for well-kept potted red geraniums.

Lee somehow crafted foils within secondary characters that seem unintentional but are effective in their execution when considered together.

Research Question: Concerning the theme of Isolation, what are the similarities and differences that link the secondary characters Mayella Ewell and Dill from To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee and Happy Loman from the play Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller?

The beauty of a secondary character is how deceptively ‘secondary’ they truly are. While it is simple to marvel at the intricately curated protagonists of a narrative, there is a greater sense of accomplishment found in seeking out the silent support systems those heroes stand upon.

Though superficialities like their names may be lost from the narrative, secondary characters are woven into a narrative with the purpose to perhaps reveal key details, motivate the actions of the protagonist, foil them, or even help define the story’s setting. In ways that have the liberty to reject typical character arc norms and trajectories. Undeniably, they are woven into the tapestry of a story arc with the purpose of creating an even richer, more satisfying, and illuminating piece of literature.

To Kill a Mockingbird, narrated from the perspective of the young protagonist, Jean Louise Finch is a tale that captures the parallels of a young girl’s life growing up in Maycomb, a small town in Alabama in the
1930s.  Beside the cusp of a so-called ‘regular’ childhood, she watches from the margins, a court case her father, Atticus, is appointed. As the novel primarily revolves around these parallels, secondary characters such as Scout’s friend Dill, as well as the so-called victim of
the court case, Mayella Ewell, play defining roles in drawing out the influence isolation, as a theme has on discrimination and loneliness.

On the other hand, the play Death of a Salesman deals with a man, Willy Lowman’s pursuit of a self-deluded ideal of the American Dream. The play is a montage of memories, dreams, confrontations, and arguments, all of which make up the last 24 hours of Willy Loman’s life. Willy’s younger son, Happy Loman, is the secondary character here, who, for a majority of the play, lives in the shadow of the inflated expectations of his brother, Biff. This results in his blind adaptation of his father’s role and identity throughout the play.

Dill

Charles Baker Harris or ‘Dill’ from To Kill a Mockingbird is a diminutive, carefree boy with an active imagination. Dill quickly manages to befriend Scout and Jem during his visits in the summer when he stays with his aunt, Miss Rachel Haverford, who owns the house next to the Finches’.

His growing fascination with Boo Radley represents the presence of childhood innocence throughout the novel. A silent companionship he shares with Boo’s lonliness.

“Why do you reckon Boo Radley’s never run off?”

Dill sighed a long sigh and turned away from me.

“Maybe he doesn’t have anywhere to run off to. . . .”

[146]

This innocence is present when Dill dominates the early part of the novel – a mere summer visitor with no connection to Maycomb’s adult world. As this adult world asserts itself later in the novel, Dill fades from the story, maintaining only minor participation. This absence of Dill from Maycomb coincides appropriately with the continued intrusion of the adult world upon Scout’s childhood. Dill’s final reappearance in Maycomb during an integral juncture of the novel, offers Scout an opportunity to flee for a short time back into the blithe of childhood.

Dill has a seemingly dynamic childhood, rejecting him of his early years of stability and comfort. This is what gives his trips back to Maycomb its due importance as the only sense of static relief he can have.

“He was worn out, dirty beyond belief, and home.”

[143]

From his intricately made-up captivating tales to his uneasy reluctance to talk about his father – it is evident that Dill has a troubled home life.

“Beautiful things floated around in his dreamy head. He could read two books to my one, but he preferred the magic of his own inventions.”

[156]

Mayella

Within the parameters of the same novel, we come across Mayella Violet Ewell, a pitiable 19-year-old girl whose isolated existence almost allows her to join the novel’s parade of innocent victims. In this sense, she too is a kind of mockingbird, injured beyond repair by the forces of loneliness, poverty, and hatred that surround her.

Lee’s presentation of Mayella emphasizes her role as a victim as it is revealed that her father most likely abuses her and possibly molests her while she has to deal with her unhelpful siblings.

Scout additionally reflects on Mayella’s physical context, which was situated behind the town garbage dump in a tin-roofed cabin with a yard full of trash. She notes, though, that buried among all this is shone an orderly corner of the yard, planted with well-tended red geraniums rumoured to belong to Mayella. Further, Scout’s physical description of Mayella states that she “looked as if she tried to keep clean,” and “she seemed somehow fragile-looking”. These attributes are reminders of Mayella’s personality that set her apart from the Ewells, similar to the row of red geraniums she tends that stands starkly against the Ewells’ yard.

“It came to me that Mayella Ewell must have been the loneliest person in the world. She was even lonelier than Boo Radley, who had not been out of the house in twenty-five years. When Atticus asked her if she had any friends, she seemed not to know what he meant, then she thought he was making fun of her.”

[194]

Scout reconciles Mayella’s lonely nature to that of the mixed folks, since her rejection from the whites was how “she lived among pigs” and to the blacks, that she was white to begin with. This suspended state of isolation is what drives Mayella to victimise herself further than necessary, using the ounce of white privilege she bore to put down the one man who showed her compassion.

This compassion Mayella saw in Tom was something that she hadn’t ever seen in her dismal and secluded life. Her loneliness compelled her towards a man who was the recipient of fierce hatred from the citizens of Maycomb, which led her, probably under the guidance of her father, to provide false testimony in Tom’s case. Yet, unfortunately, as Atticus quotes,

“And so, a quiet, respectable, humble Negro who had the unmitigated temerity to ‘feel sorry’ for a white woman…”

was faced with punishment because a white woman

“…must destroy the evidence of her offence. What was the evidence of her offence? Tom Robinson, a human being.”

[207]

Happy

Finally, from the play, we are introduced to Happy Loman, a seasoned womanizer who encourages his fragile self-image by acclaiming a false sense of success. He emulates his father in a couple of ways. First, he believes in his father’s theory that success comes from being ‘well-liked’ rather than applying hard work. However, he constantly lives under the shadow of his brother Biff who is idolised by his father and takes the primary focus of the play. Happy reinforces his sense of accomplishment by bragging about his sexual exploits. Even though he possesses all the hallmarks of material success, he still feels unfulfilled and, quite contrary to his name, is unhappy.

“It’s what I always wanted. My own apartment, a car, and plenty of women. And still goddamnit, I’m lonely.”

[12]

This state of awareness is reduced of any developmental value as Happy continues to remain lost, scheming the perfect ways to change his life, yet doing nothing to implement those changes.

Happy has always idolized Willy, in part because Willy always paid more attention to Biff. In this isolated state of living in Biff’s shadow, Happy has internalized Willy’s lessons about being liked that he thinks nothing of lying to seem more important than he is. He also seems to think little of women, a reflection
of Willy’s lack of respect for Linda. These instances only further remove Happy from attaining his own sense of identity, being lost until the very end of the play, with no significant arc or development for his character.

Happy continues to believe that “selling” hope, even if it means lying, is the best policy. By denying his relation to Willy, Happy reveals himself as a person capable of rejecting any truth that does not suit his convenience—the ultimate salesman. An instance that exposes him is in Frank’s Chop House, Happy hurriedly pays their bill and, embarrassed, tells the girls he picked up that Willy isn’t really his father, and instead “just a guy.” Willy’s physical illness embarrasses Happy, and so, blinds him from accepting how closely he resembles his father.

At the end of the play, once Willy has died, Happy rejects himself the final straw of happiness he could achieve by remaining bound in the comfort of someone else’s shadow. Biff invites Happy to come out west with him, as they had conspired at the beginning of the play, a prospect that seemed to excite Happy. Yet he puts down the offer, saying “I’m staying right in this city, and I’m gonna beat this racket!” and that he will win Willy’s dream for him, a helpless attempt to gain approval from a man who will not be able to validate him anyway.

Dill & Mayella

Dill, on one hand, embeds himself in stories of what could be instead of what is. But as removed he tries to be from the realities of his home life, he is strongly connected to his emotional sense of being (his empathy toward Boo).

Mayella, on the other hand, depicts a pitiful and spiteful girl with a higher sense of self-interest than empathy. As she does exhibit nurturing and compassionate traits through the account of her well-kept red geraniums, the Mayella seen during the trial is hateful and cruel – a clear contradiction to this image.

It is here that Lee creates two alternative scenarios that compel a character to use deception to cope with the isolation they grew up beside.

Mayella & Happy

A noticeable similarity between the characters is the root of their isolated upbringing. While Mayella has an abusive father, Happy has been neglected by his father’s overbearing attention toward Biff and left to the complete mercy of Willy’s ideals. Both characters are unable to detach themselves from their paternal shadow and seek sexual intimacy as a sense of release.

Both Mayella and Happy, hence, are static characters with undeveloped arcs. There is no conclusion or resolution for them as they are not the protagonists of the story. Their role is fulfilled without any focus on change or improvement. Mayella will continue to live a guilt-ridden life under the abuse and abandonment from her father, and Happy will live out his remaining years trying to fulfil Willy’s dream without a second thought to its flawed illusion.

Happy & Dill

As far as crucial father figures come into play, both Happy and Dill have had inconsistent attention from their fathers. Happy being overshadowed by his brother Biff, and Dill never having a static paternal head to look up to. As a result of this, both characters lose their grasp with reality and live in a self-deluded state of being. Dill with his elaborate made-up stories and lies and Happy, blindly following a hollow ideal of Willy’s version of the American Dream.