Sandra Hollin Flowers on Toomer's "Box Seat"

In her essay “Solving the Critical Conundrum of Jean Toomer’s ‘Box Seat,’” Sandra Hollin Flowers argues that Toomer’s “Box Seat” should not be read merely as “the urban correlative to a rural journey,” but rather as “an expressionist drama denouncing black middle-class values” (Flowers 301). She continues on to assert that Toomer achieves this through his use of “enclosure, locking, a positioning imagery” throughout the short story to “criticize class division among Afro-Americans during the early 1920s” (Flowers 301). Flowers first cites Nellie McKay as an inspiration for this new reading, who revealed that Toomer’s trip to Washington D.C., and thus the inspiration for the urban portion of Cane, was not a planned trip but an impromptu one meant to temporarily relieve him from the stresses of the south. If the trip was not directly intended as research for the journey Cane provides, Flowers argues that the true meaning of the text must lie elsewhere, namely the issues of “class division among Afro-Americans” introduced in her thesis (Flowers 301). One following citation, this time from E. Franklin Frazier, sets up the class divisions and exactly why Washington D.C.’s setting is suitable for Toomer’s thematic concerns. According to Frazier, Washington D.C. held a “relatively large Negro professional class,” with African-Americans “in the nation’s capital [having] incomes far above those in other parts of the country” (Flowers 302). Once the foundational backdrop of “Box Seat” is firmly established, Flowers moves on to the summary of the narrative itself, focusing specifically on those events most pertinent to her argument. Much attention is given to the two-part structure of the story, a device used by Toomer to “exact parallel meanings from recurring imagery” (Flowers 302). Flowers asserts that Part I “establishes socio-economic distinctions by using houses, seating arrangements, and movement to demarcate social classes,” while Part II “modifies this imagery to parody the nascent middle class’s pretensions” (Flowers 302). Next, Flowers explicates the text thoroughly, identifying and explaining each piece of positional, enclosing and locking imagery to fully explore the depth of Toomer’s message within “Box Seat.” Finally, she asserts that “‘Box Seat’ occupies a more significant place within the canon of Toomer’s work than has generally been recognized” (Flowers 305). According to Flowers, “Box Seat” is much more than the urban parallel to Cane’s rural backdrop, rather serving as Toomer’s most powerful depiction of his “preoccupation with the social and psychological pettiness of the black middle class of his era” (Flowers 305).

Beyond a rather awkward summary of “Box Seat” before the actual explication begins, Flowers’ “Solving the Critical Conundrum of Jean Toomer’s ‘Box Seat’” is a highly valuable analysis for anyone hoping to dive more deeply into Toomer’s text. Of particular note is Flowers’ opening page, where she lays down her inspiration for her unique reading of “Box Seat,” as well as introduce the issue she feels Toomer is addressing through his story. One could perhaps argue that it starts off too slow for the average reader, but it really lays a nice foundation of knowledge for the information that is to come. Without this first page, Flowers risks losing a good portion of her readership, so its slow nature is ultimately forgiven when taking the big picture into account. As I introduced earlier, the only real flaw I found within Flowers’ analysis is with the first summary of “Box Seat,” before the actual explication of the text begins. The structure seems to be interrupted by this summary’s placement, especially considering Flowers touches on each of the points she brings up here later, and more in-depth, in the explication. In such a short analysis, one must be very economical with words, and this summary fails to do so. That said, the explication that follows is extremely solid, taking into account nearly every single case of positional, enclosure, and locking imagery. The main meat of the analysis lies in this explication (as it should), and really does a great job supporting Flowers’ thesis. While there are a few instances where I feel Flowers takes some of Toomer’s imagery a bit too literally, such as the fighting dwarves, she does effectively identify and explain each image significant and relevant to her main argument. Flowers’ last paragraph also addresses one of my favorite aspects of her analysis, namely her assertion that “Box Seat” clearly “occupies a more significant place within the canon of Toomer’s work than has generally been recognized” (Flowers 305). In this way, her analysis is positioned as something of foundation for “Box Seat” to stand up, to gain notice among the other stories within Cane. With this statement, Flowers becomes a “Box Seat” evangelist, and her analysis becomes far more significant than it would have otherwise. Her unique vision of Toomer’s work breathes new life into both Dan and Muriel, elevating both “Box Seat” and her very analysis heads above any other, less daring explication of Toomer’s text.

Jean Toomer's Eye Fetish

Seeing as I’ve been almost completely unmoved by Toomer’s writing in general, I thought it might be worthwhile to take a closer look at his apparent fascination with human eyes. I have noticed, in “Fern,” “Blood-Burning Moon” and especially “Box Seat,” that Toomer often characterizing the characters within his stories by their eyes. I don’t want to speculate too much on why this is, as I don’t feel I have the proper qualifications to do so, but rather hoped (if anyone aside from Dr. Campbell reads these blogs) I could start some sort of dialogue regarding this topic. So, without further ado, I’ll jump into it.

The first case I noticed of this particular inclination toward eye description was the very opening of “Fern.” Right from the first line, Fern is basically boiled down to one key feature: her eyes. In fact, her entire head seemed nothing more than a vehicle to display them to the world, evidenced in the first couple of sentences, “Face flowed into her eyes. Flowed in soft cream foam and plaintive ripples, in such a way that wherever your glance may momentarily have rested, it immediately thereafter wavered in the direction of her eyes” (Toomer 16). Toomer goes on, for a whole half a page, focused solely on Fern’s eyes and the power they held over the men around her. It’s an interesting way to characterize her, sure, but not necessarily enough for a new reader to realize how preoccupied with eyes Toomer really is. Continuing on, however, the pattern becomes more clear.

In “Blood-Burning Moon,” Toomer uses eyes as his chosen image to portray the power and barbaric nature of Tom Burwell’s death. On page 36, Toomer writes, “Tom’s eyes popped” (Toomer 36). It’s a simple sentence, but the power of the line is derived primarily from that simplicity, and along with the scent of burning flesh from the sentence before, the reader is left without any doubt as to Toomer’s intended emotion within this closing scene. It’s interesting that Toomer would choose the eyes to portray the aural and visual aspects of this scene. This is not the first time a human has been burned at the stake in a piece of literature, but it’s likely one of the only ones to use the eye as that one pivotal image.

Finally, and most noticeably, Toomer’s “Box Seat” is absolutely full of examples for his eye fascination. Mrs. Pribby is characterized by her eyes when she is first introduced, “Her eyes are weak. They are bluish and watery from reading the newspapers” (Toomer 60). Of the “portly Negress” described on page 65, Toomer writes that the “eyes of the woman don’t belong to her” (Toomer 65). The man with whom Dan nearly brawls with at the end of the story is characterized likewise merely by his eyes, as if nothing else even matters, “The man’s face is a blur about two swollen liquid things that are his eyes. The eyes dissolve in the surrounding vagueness” (Toomer 66). The eyes, it seems, are the only vivid characteristics the man has, though even they are threatened by the “surrounding vagueness” that nearly dissolves them (Toomer 66). During Dan’s seeming bout of hallucinations, he even admits to this obvious preoccupation with people’s eyes when he says, “I did see his eyes. Never miss eyes” (Toomer 68). Obviously, Toomer is aware of the descriptive pattern of his, and even seems to comment on it here.

Again, I don’t mean to suggest any meaning behind this eye fascination of Toomer’s, partly because this blog has already gone on far longer than I’d originally conceived but mostly because I’d like to hear other thoughts on this subject. Let’s get some intellectual discourse under way, here. This is certainly a subject that requires a little bit of knowledge about Jean Toomer himself, so hopefully someone has a bit more knowledge about him than I do.

Also, in case anyone is wondering, I do, in fact, see the irony in calling out Toomer for his obsession with eyes while the very ability to notice it requires a similar, if not even more neurotic, obsession. So thank you for noticing.