Open-Ended Stories in Oates and O'Connor: Reader Reflection

The Open-Ended Story as a Literary Device

The traditional structure of a story calls for a beginning, a middle, and an end. When a story concludes, its conflict should be resolved and the reader left satisfied that the tension of the plot has been diffused. Sometimes, however, writers deliberately defy these expectations in order to provoke their audience. Instead of providing a narrative arc of rising and falling conflict, some authors push their stories to the brink and leave the reader suspended over a precipice. This is known as the cliffhanger device—and it is usually followed by a sequel that resolves the issues left unaddressed.

Joyce Carol Oates, who wrote "Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?" and Flannery O'Connor, who wrote "Everything That Rises Must Converge," finished their stories without clarifying their conflicts and without providing sequels. Instead, both authors use the open-ended story to compel readers to think about the underlying messages of their narratives and the irony with which the stories deliver—or rather, withhold—the expected conclusion.

Conflict and Resolution in O'Connor's 'Everything That Rises Must Converge'

In "Everything That Rises Must Converge" by O'Connor, the central conflict is the antagonistic relationship between Julian and his mother. Readers might first notice their conflict when Julian thinks his mother's hat is hideous and when he reluctantly agrees to escort her to her health class. The arguing that begins once they are on their way reveals that the two hold sharply different views on African American civil rights. Julian's mother insists, "They should rise, yes, but on their own side of the fence" (O'Connor). The plot progresses as Julian repeatedly tries to demonstrate that his mother is wrong, but she never listens to him.

Readers gradually recognize, however, that Julian is not without his own form of racism. He exploits the African American man on the bus as a tool to signal his own virtue and to position himself as superior to his mother. Although they are divided by a generational gap in their attitudes toward race, Julian has not entirely freed himself from racist habits of mind. The conflict reaches its peak when Julian's mother attempts to give a penny to a Black child on the bus. Julian tries to stop her, but she ignores him. Her ignorant and condescending gesture ends abruptly when the child's mother strikes her with a purse.

Julian's mother, who embodies an attachment to a racist past, falls to the ground, calling out the names of Black servants from her earlier life—names that once carried social power for her. This moment underscores the story's argument that a person who lives entirely in the past cannot move into the future. Julian's mother's face becomes distorted, and her eyes seem to point in different directions, as though she is being pulled apart by two incompatible worlds. Julian is left alone as she dies. Even as he realizes she is suffering, he cannot stop lecturing her. Only when he grasps that he is about to lose her does he abandon his sermon and revert to something more childlike—calling out desperately and running for help. O'Connor leaves the reader wondering what these two characters reveal about the human capacity for guilt and what it means to confront our own inner conflicts.