Recitatif by Toni Morrison Toni

Recitatif by Toni Morrison

Toni Morrison's only published short story, Recitatif, requires more from the reader than just sitting back enjoying the ride. Morrison has said in more than one interview that literature should be about participatory involvement, in which the reader steps into the pages and either becomes part of the story or at least observes up close the dynamics of the characters. The thesis of this paper is that Morrison's skill in use of language is brilliant, and her reputation precedes her in that regard, but no matter who had written this story, it is entertaining and enlightening on a social, psychological, and moral level. There is something to be learned by each reader - that this story is as much or more about cross-cultural interactions and token friendships than racial issues per se. It is helpful to also read the critical essay about Recitatif by David Goldstein-Shirley, and either agree with his assessments or challenge them juxtaposed with what Morrison creates in her narrative.

As for Goldstein-Shirley, he seems obsessed with "clues" that the reader can use to determine who is white and who is black, and the bottom line is, while those clues and tricks are meaningful, there is a bigger picture here. It is a picture of the world seen through children's eyes, a world of bias, confusion, and human foibles; it is a world where cultures like black and white will never truly understand and accept one another. And in this case, as children grow old, it's a story of the new world they both see and reflect upon. Human nature, social mores and folkways, cultural crossroads - this is a wonderful story, ripe with confusion and angst though it may be.

Meanwhile, Morrison's ability to use themes and irony is skillful and offers the reader that additional dimension of narrative; probably, as David Goldstein-Shirley writes, she does it to keep readers off balance. She may do it to confuse the reader too, or even mislead the reader. Or it is possible that Morrison just didn't like to write totally straight-forward copy, and in the short story genre, which doesn't afford nearly as much space as a novel of course, she felt obliged to turn up the heat when it comes to irony and themes of children growing up but not really changing or maturing.

In Recitatif, for example, one of the theme is racial, and yet Morrison cleverly uses tricks in her language to keep the reader wondering which little girl is African-American and which is Caucasian. Morrison wants readers to make assumptions, and then later question those assumptions. Is Twyla white, or is Roberta white? Does it really matter? Goldstein-Shirley certainly believes it matters. He spends a good deal of his essay pointing out clues; "do protruding buttocks suggest an African-American physique"? he asks. He wonders, since the chicken is fried, does that show readers that Roberta is indeed African-American?

He is all tied up in knots wondering, is Roberta's mother a black bigot, a white racist, a resentful black woman? Goldstein-Shirley points to the part of Morrison's story where Twyla had never heard of Jimi Hendrix. Roberta knows who he is, but Twyla is clueless. To his credit, Goldstein-Shirley is aware that this is another little language trick because Hendrix was not embraced by the black musical culture, he was a rock star idolized by mainly white fans. The theme of tension in the story is very apparent here, as Roberta is a customer now and Twyla is the server, not looking very pretty, and not showing knowledge of popular musical figures.

Morrison's narrative when Roberta left the first sequence of the story, as far as how Twyla saw the parting, and the irony in that paragraph is not hidden and not intended to be clever. Kids always promise to write, and rarely do in "real life," so why would they be any different in fiction? it's one of those polite customs to say you'll be sure to write. Roberta "promised to write every day" but wait, if she can't read how can she write? And as for Twyla, she would have drawn pictures (very child-like) and sent them to Roberta but Roberta hadn't given Twyla her address. Did Twyla ask for it? It sounds as though she didn't. So, as stated earlier, this story used very common themes of the fragility of "friendships"; like friends getting mad at each other, and when they part, they promise to write. "Her big serious-looking eyes - that's all I could catch when I tried to bring her to mind," Twyla said. That's it? Four months living in close quarters with a girl who was her friend, and that's all that can be recounted about her? Friendships are shallow, very thin on substance for many people (young and old), but people use all the right words to convey a sense of value, no matter that they ring hollow. Morrison handles that theme well.

The meaning of "Recitatif," according to seemingly the only source available on the World Wide Web, Wikipedia, relates to a musical style that is on the border between commonplace speech and song. It has to do, in this case, with the Morrison story that has five episodes, each one with a different tone than the previous one. Is it musical or just a humming sound - or a rhythm that is established between two people who were friends but shallow ones at that. When the two meet at the checkout line, twenty years after their first friendship, Twyla remembers (here is some good irony): "Two little girls who knew what nobody else in the world knew - how not to ask questions." There was no "politeness in that reluctance," Twyla narrates. Then she asks a cruelly brutally pointed question: "Did you ever learn to read?" The irony is not lost on the reader that Roberta may have been literacy-challenged but she rode in a limo and had servants. it's a society where intelligence and education isn't necessarily a requirement for money and social esteem.