Comparison and contrast in analytical frameworks

African-American Women Literature: Didion and Walker

One of the seminal themes in African-American Women's Literature surrounds the way that women are treated, not just by men and society, but by themselves. For numerous authors; Toni Morrison, Zora Neal Hurston, Bell Hooks, Maya Angelou, the recurrent theme of internal actualization and self-respect forms more than just an organizational role within their prose and poetry. A contemporary writer, for instance, Bell Hooks, Professor of African-American literature, tends to take the issue of self-actualization head on by vigorously shouting that African-American women need to heal themselves in the struggle against both institutionalized and patriarchal submission. Take the forces, she says, wrestle with them and synthesize them into something you can deal with, then affirm your power (Hooks).

While more covert and subtle within the text, the theme of self-actualization is nonetheless power and present in Joan Didion's "On Self-Respect," and Alice Walker's "Beauty, When the Other Dancer is the Self." Both voices are active, powerful and witty. Both seek to place responsibility for the way the world affects the self with individuals -- there are no victims in either piece, even though the reader suspects many try for that role. Indeed, the quality and movement towards the experience of self-actualization is likely more important to both writers than the normative place of the individual right now. It is not how evolved one is at the moment, it is a clear message that everyone must be evolving -- and actively!

Walker, best known for the Color Purple, does a masterful job in juxtaposing the point-of-view of a child and adult in "Beauty: When the Other Dancer is the Self." The story is quite simple, on the surface. It is a bright summer day in 1947. Alice's father has a serious predicament: he must decide which of his eight children will accompany him to the county fair. He is a sly and witty man, and the very proud driver of Miss Mey, a wealthy older woman who owns their house and, it appears, believes she owns everyone in town as well. Surprisingly enough, it seems Daddy takes more than one, but only the lucky ones, and sure as can be for the mind of a two-year-old, Alice's mind is filled with wondrous things. Later, in 1950, Alice is dressed in a handmade dress for Easter, and very proud of how beautiful it is while she recites an Easter poem. All the optimism is crushed when, two years later Alice has a playtime accident and is blinded in one eye. Blinking back and forth in time, Alice deals with her injury and the effect it had on her, and what she thought, on her family.

As a child, Alice looks outward for her definition of beauty and actualization; she is beautiful when her Daddy takes her to the Fair (her "Sunday best," after all), she is beautiful in a glorious green dress, and she is beautiful when she knows other people are commenting about her. As an adolescent, Alice's focus is on what her peer group thinks is beautiful -- and more actualization comes her way when the tiny "glob of white" is removed from her injured eye. As an adult, Alice realizes, at least most of the time, that beauty comes from within -- that external factors matter not if the internal is at peace. In a simple, but gleaning manner, Alice's worries evaporate when her own child discovers that here Mommy's eyes is different; "Mommy, where did you get that world in your eye?"

Forming a more brutal account of self-esteem, Joan Didion, in the essay, "Self-Respect," is earnest and direct that "innocence ends when one is stripped of the delusion that one likes oneself." The story, however, is also simple in nature -- the narrator has not been elected to Phi Beta Kappa and, at the moment, finds this to be tragic. However, when she looks deep within herself, she realizes two important things: 1) "Self-deception remains the most difficult deception," and 2) "Self-respect has nothing to do with the approval of others." The narrator knows intuitively that she did not work very hard in relation to the sorority membership, but was caught up in what Didion calls the Wuthering Heights drama of self-deception and victimization.

That being said, it is quite difficult to be honest with oneself, even thought as we stand in front of the mirror, naked and bare, Didion says we remain "blind to our fatal weaknesses." One might think that being too self-critical would damage the ego, but for Didion, it is completely the opposite -- by knowing out flaws, accepting some and working towards the goal of solving others, we become more actualized and powerful. Without this realization, "one eventually discovers the final turn of the screw: one runs away to find oneself, and finds no one at home."

Both Didion and Walker focus on self-respect, self-actualization, and in a very real way, a pseudo-Marxian approach to alienation from society. There are several points in common for the authors: one's own approach to self; seeking and finding self-respect; and taking an active role in our own place in the universe. Conversely, Didion and Walker differ in their central approach to the subject, ways of internal and external communication, and the ability to find the "center" as a means of affirmation and attribution of self.

Walker's approach to the paradigm of self-respect is like a comfortable robe, frayed at the edges, but something we seek out to wear as we sit by the fire, bundled up, insulated from the outside world as we consider her parables and metaphorical approach to the larger problem of self-esteem. We can imagine, as a child, crawling up in Walker's lap to learn ways that one can be both true to oneself while still being active and inwardly powerful. With Didion, however savory and enlightening the message may be, the scenario is more reminiscent of a strict "school marm" with a willing propensity towards corporal punishment. It is not that either author does not genuinely mean what they say, but one finds the taste buds soothed with warm tea and honey vs. stout and tangy lemonade.

Seeking self-respect, for both authors, is part of the natural progress of life; the evolution of slowly realizing that one must move from external to internal stimuli- or forever be caught in an emotional hamster cage for which there is no escape. This journey, it seems, is part of language and personality acquisition. Walker's prose is filled with words that are primarily left-brained -- love, emotion, feelings, alarm, gently; while Didion's prose leans more towards the right-brained, logical, harsh world construct a more militaristic approach in rhythm: "lost the conviction that lights would always turn green," for instance, can be chanted to a marching band cadence.