Pre-class thoughts after reading Gem of the Ocean (3/6/19)

Quite possibly because of current events, I found myself focusing early on two thoughts. First, i focused on the repetition by Eli that Aunt Esther’s house at 1839 Wylie Avenue is a peaceful house, a safe space, a place of sanctuary. Today we have sanctuary cities, whole cities that seek to provide a safe space, outside of and secure from the harm of the reach of immigration laws. Aunt Ester’s house was a sanctuary for migrants, not necessarily fleeing the long arm of immigration law, but certainly seeking to escape the reach of oppressive legal structures.

At the same time, why is Citizen Barlow allowed to stay? Because he can help Eli build a wall, a wall whose purpose it is ostensibly to keep Caesar (the Law) out. We see the wall and sanctuary as serving opposite masters. But perhaps this play gives us a different perspective on both sanctuaries and walls.

It also occurred to me that this play could be (perhaps should be) called “The Adventures of Citizen Barlow.” But to do so would perhaps detract from the development of other characters, from Black Mary who is “becoming” Aunt Ester; from Solly, who dies in spite of the contribution he makes to the “freedom” of so many Others; and from Caesar, who appears to be an unredeemable nuisance on the community, but who may, before it is all over with, may find redemption as well as “his justice.”

I was also struck by the sweetness of the courtship between Citizen Barlow and Black Mary, where Black Mary is open to Citizen Barlow’s advances, but keeps it real at every level. And I can’t ignore the thoughtfulness expressed between both Aunt Ester and Eli (platonic) and Aunt Ester and Solly (too much romance talk for two old people, perhaps).

I spoke in an earlier session about how contrived I found the visit to the “City of Bones,” about how Eli, Solly and Black Mary must have enacted this routine before, rehearsed it, worked out its flaws. I also mentioned in an earlier post the sadness of the Garret Brown obit. For me, it still evokes the same feelings of poetic sadness and regret.

A new thought this reading is the similarity between Caesar Wilks long monologue (I’ll cite the location tonight) and the Parable of the Talents (overlook me, I’m always trying to find signs and signals of redeemability in Caesar, possibly because he reminds me so much of menfolk in my family, for better or worse). We can discuss this in class.

OK. Maybe that’s enough to think about for now. Please send me your thoughts.