Fear of the Unknown and Other Catalysts in Dorothy Parker's "Here We Are" and William Faulkner's "That Evening Sun Go Down"

By now it should be clear that a common theme in this unit of our class is going to be the idea of change.  Certainly this is something that doesn't take us by surprise.  After all, each of us has dealt with, struggled with, and made it through many changes in our own lives.  America--and, by extension, American literature--is no different.  America and its literature are both relatively young in the scheme of things, and as such, they will be in the process of massive change for many years to come.

And some of the biggest changes in both the country and its literature were happening in the early stages of the century, when the entire world was reeling from the world wars.  Even the time between these wars--the 30s--proved fruitful in its change.  Americans were becoming increasingly isolationist; they were seeking a national purity and rebelled against anything that was foreign or "hyphenated."  Distrust of immigrants, of African-Americans, and involvement in foreign affairs grew.  And it's no wonder, of course.  Americans in the 1930s were dealing with the far-reaching effects of The Depression.  Jobs, money, and housing were scarce.  It was a struggle to make it through each day.  Therefore, it seemed appropriate to Americans that they expend all the energy they had in returning the country to its earlier robust glory.

Considering this, it's no wonder that both William Faulkner's "That Evening Sun Go Down" and Dorothy Parker's "Here We Are" both focus their narratives around fear of the unknown.  The unknown--whatever was out their lurking around the next corner--was what everyone in America was afraid of.

Nancy, one of the main characters in Faulkner's story, is quite literally afraid of that which is lurking around the next corner.  Jubah, her man--unhinged, violent, roaming--is rumored to be back in town and ready to get revenge upon Nancy, who, it is intimated, is carrying (perhaps unwillingly) the child of a white man.  Already wronged by whatever circumstances have gotten her into her predicament, Nancy must suffer more fear when she is stalked by Jubah, who wishes her dead.  She wakes every day convinced that this will be the day he finally takes action and kills her.

The core drama of "Here We Are" by Dorothy Parker may be markedly less violent than that of Faulkner's story, but the drama is founded in the same fear--the fear of the unknown.

The two characters--the newlyweds--are on the way to their honeymoon in New York City when they realize the gravity of their situation.  After all, they got married with certain expectations--that things would suddenly become different than they were before (and it is clear the way things were before was tense and confrontational)--but the reality is, of course, that very little changes after the introduction of wedding vows.

The young wife is the first to be made breathless by this realization, and she--suddenly feeling alone, scared, and perhaps a bit hopeless--lashes out with anger at her husband, who, despite an attempt to keep a level head, eventually answers in kind.  Both admit to having no real idea of how things will be, how their marriage will manage to work, and they resort to making promises to each other, and these promises seem empty to the audience, who, because of Parker's keen writing, understands the dynamics of this couple.  The audience, as quiet spectators of their habitual bickering, becomes sure of the constancy of their communication style, that they will be locked in this pattern for the length of their marriage.

And while both authors travel different avenues to show us the deep-seated fear of that which was coming from the future, that which was unknown, both expertly convey that hopeless and terrifying resignation that we all must come to when we realize we have little control over that which life is going to give us, that which we cannot yet comprehend.  And all of this reflects so perfectly that which consumed the American public in the 1930s.  Even in their literature they could not fully rid themselves of the dark shadow of tragedy and fear that hung thickly over their everyday lives.