THE COMPARISON OF THEME IN “THE ROCKING HORSEWINNER” AND IN “THE SCARLET IBIS”
Ciko Permana Sidiq
103026027647
ENGLISH LETTERS DEPARTMENT
“ADAB” AND HUMANITIES FACULTY
STATE ISLAMIC UNIVERSITY
“SYARIF HIDAYATULLAH”
JAKARTA
2008
THE COMPARISON OF THEME IN “THE ROCKING HORSEWINNER” AND IN “THE SCARLET IBIS”
A Thesis
Submitted to “Adab” and Humanities Faculty
In Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for
the Degree of “Sarjana Sastra”
Ciko Permana Sidiq
103026027647
ENGLISH LETTERS DEPARTMENT
“ADAB” AND HUMANITIES FACULTY
STATE ISLAMIC UNIVERSITY
“SYARIF HIDAYATULLAH”
JAKARTA
2008
ABSTRACT
Ciko Permana Sidiq. The Comparison of theme in “The Rocking Horse Winner”
and ”The Scarlet Ibis”. Thesis. English Letters Department. Adab and Humanity
Faculty. State Islamic University Syarif Hidayatullah Jakarta, 2008.
In this research, the writer analyzes about the comparison of theme in the short
story and the writer uses method of comparison in analyses those short stories. There
are two short stories that would be analyzed by the writer; they are The Rocking Horse
Winner by D H Lawrence and The Scarlet Ibis by James Hurst. Those stories tell about
conflict in family relationship. In the rocking horse winner, D H Lawrence explore the
struggle boy to get gain love from his materials’ mother and the scarlet Ibis, James Hurst
describe about conflict between two brother, the younger one is a crippled boy. The
other felt ashamed to have an invalid brother. The results of this thesis explain the
similarities and difference of theme that are found in both short stories. The similarities of
theme that often occurred are the dissatisfaction that lead disharmony in family and both
are also about the journey of two boys in pursuing the standard of the person they love
in family. While, the difference that is found in the rocking Horse Winner is that money
could lead problem and drive conflict in a family and in the scarlet ibis living beyond limit
could lead destruction.
APPROVEMENT
THE COMPARISON OF THEME IN “THE ROCKING HORSE-WINNER”
AND IN “THE SCARLET IBIS”
A Thesis
Submitted to “Adab” and Humanities Faculty
in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for
the Degree of “Sarjana Sastra”
Ciko Permana Sidiq
103026027647
Approved by:
Advisor
Drs. A. Saefuddin, M. Pd,
NIP. 150 261 902
ENGLISH LETTERS DEPARTMENT
“ADAB” AND HUMANITIES FACULTY
STATE ISLAMIC UNIVERSITY
“SYARIF HIDAYATULLAH”
JAKARTA
2008
LEGALIZATION
The thesis entitled “The Comparison of Theme in “The Rocking Horse-Winner”
and in “The Scarlet Ibis” has been defended before the Letters and Humanities Faculty’s
Examination Committee on August 21, 2008. The thesis has already been accepted as a
partial fulfillment of the requirement for the “Sarjana Sastra” degree in English Letters
Department.
Jakarta, August 21, 2008
Examination Committee
Chair Person,
Secretary,
Drs. A. Saefudin, M. Pd.
NIP.150 261 901
Dr. H. Muhammad Farkhan, M. Pd.
NIP. 150 299 480
Members
Examiner I
Drs. Zaenal Arifin Toy, M.L.S.
NIP. 150 031 215
Examiner II
Moh. Supardi, SS.
DECLARATION
I hereby declare that this submission is my own work and that, to the best of my
knowledge and belief, it contains no material previously published or written by another
person nor material which to a substantial extent has been accepted for the award of
any other degree or diploma of the university or other institute of higher learning, except
where due acknowledgment has been made in the text.
Jakarta, August 21 2008
Ciko Permana Sidiq
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
In the name of Allah, the Beneficent, the Merciful. All praises are due to
Allah, the Almighty, and the Lord of all that exist. May Allah’s peace and blessing
be upon His final Prophet and Messenger, Muhammad, his family and his
companions
This thesis is presented to the English Letters Department of the Faculty
of “Adab” and Humanities, UIN “Syarif Hidayatullah” Jakarta as a partial
fulfillment of the requirements for sarjana degree (S1).
It is a great honor for the writer to make acknowledgment of indebtedness to
convey his sincere gratitude to Drs. A. Saefudin, M. Pd., who has patiently given
valuable advice and guidance to accomplish this thesis.
The writer also would like to convey his sincere gratitude particularly to:
1. Drs. H. Abd. Chair, MA, as The Dean of “Adab” and Humanities Faculty.
2. Drs. H. M. Farkhan, M. Pd., as the Head of English Letter Department.
3. Drs. A. Saefudin, M. Pd., as the Secretary of English Letters Department.
4. All the lecture of English Letters Department for their encouragement to the writer
5. The writer’s beloved parents, Bibin Zaenudin and Mimah.
6. His beloved brothers and sisters, Lina Idamayanti, Dian Hartono, Ade Shinta
7. His beloved girl friend, Indah Pratiwi for the love
8. All Librarians of UIN Syarif Hidayatullah Library, University of Atmajaya Library,
University of Indonesia Library, and Library of UNJ., for having helpe him to
obtain some useful books in relation to his thesis.
Jakarta, August 21 2008
The Writer
TABLE OF CONTENTS
ABSTRACT ..................................................................................................... i
APPROVEMENT ............................................................................................. ii
LEGALIZATION ............................................................................................... iii
DECLARATION ............................................................................................... iv
ACKNOWLEDGMENT .................................................................................... v
TABLE OF CONTENTS .................................................................................. vii
CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTION ..................................................................... 1
A. The Background of Study .................................................. 1
B.
The Focus of Study ........................................................... 3
C.
Research Question ............................................................ 4
D. The Objective and Significance of Study............................ 4
E.
CHAPTER II
The Methodology of Study ................................................. 5
THEORITICAL FRAMEWORK ............................................... 7
A. Definition of Theme ........................................................... 7
B.
The Important of a Theme in a Story ................................. 11
C.
The Ways of the Author Use to Develop a Theme ............ 13
D. The Method of Comparison ................................................ 14
CHAPTER III RESEARCH FINDING ............................................................. 20
A. Data Description……………………………………………….. 20
B. Analysis………………………………………………………….. 27
1. The Ways the Author Use to Deliver the Theme in the two short
stories ........................................................................... 27
2. The Themes of the Two Short Stories .......................... 27
a. The Similarities of Themes ..................................... 28
b. The Differences of Themes ..................................... 41
CHAPTER IV CONCLUSION .......................................................................... 52
BIBLIOGRAPY ……………………………………………………………………… 54
APPENDIXES (THE SHORT STORIES) ......................................................... 56
The Rocking Horse-Winner
The Scarlet Ibis
CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTION
A. The Background of Study
Family relationship often bears conflict because of the lacking of understanding
among each other. It is a small part but essential in every body’s life. Family’s life and its
various problems are mostly portrayed in a literary work such as short stories.
In this research the writer has chosen two short stories to be analyzed, because
The Rocking Horse Winner by D>H Laurence and The Scarlet Ibis by James Hurst talk
about conflict family relationship, both have common issues that disorientation pursuing
love make both characters in both stories died young.
The Rocking-horse Winner by D.H. Lawrence is a reflection of society’s
materialism, the search for material happiness and in the some time ignoring the real
matter of life. The people are looking for happiness in the wrong place The Rocking
Horse Winner tells about a family who pretends to have a life full of luxury while their
income is low and their debts are high. Paul, the older son of the family, after seeing the
importance of money and luck in his mother’s life, he discovers that he is not as unlucky
as the rest of his family. His luck helps him to predict the winner of horse races. For a
time Paul gets money as a gambler thanks to Basset, the gardener, and later on with the
complicity of his uncle, who is curious about his nephew’s abilities. The winnings were
given to Paul’s mother to pay debts, but she found the money wasn’t enough to keep up
their social status. Paul feels the need to win one of the three big races. He found
himself worried when the two of the races came and he didn’t know the winner. Finally,
Paul predicts the winner while riding his rocking horse. During the incident, Paul gets
sick and dies.
Another short story the writer will analyze is the Scarlet Ibis by James Hurst. This
story has been chosen by writer because It focuses on the troubled relationship between
two young boys: the narrator and his mentally and physically disable brother, Doodle. It
explores the conflict between love and pride and draws attention to the effect of familial
and societal expectation on those who are handicapped.
In this research, the writer will analyze theme that occurs in both short stories.
Stories that are written are entirely to teach a moral lesson in the relationship among the
member of the family. The lesson could be the problem of life, love, or even conflict
within family relationship.
There are several lessons we may gain regarding family relationship. As we
know that family is the smallest unit in social life. It is the beginning of a person’s life, a
place where personality, education, and attitude are formed. The relation among
members of family not always goes on well. The problems always occur in everyday
among them. Conflicts often appear in family relationship from mother-daughter,
husband-wife, mother-son, even within brother. The problem of life and the obsession of
one of the member of the family may lead the conflict in the family relationship.
The Rocking Horse Winner and the Scarlet Ibis have common that is a conflict
within family relationship. In Rocking Horse Winner, the conflict that occurs is between
mother and son. The name of the son is Paul. Paul is controlled in family relationships.
His mother puts great strain on him by being financially irresponsible, and living beyond
what they can afford. Paul feels the strain, since he is influenced by her mother’s role in
family which makes him depressed. Paul assumes that her mother does not love him the
mother shows distrust on him with telling him as an unlucky son just like his father. It
makes him extra hard to gain her love and prove to his mother that he is the lucky
person.
On the other hand, in The Scarlet Ibis, the conflict that occurs is within two young
brothers. Brother forced his physically and mentally disabled younger brother to do cruel
things. He teaches his disabled younger brother to walk, run, swim, and climb trees and
fight. He does it in order to pursuit his expectation of making his brother to be just like
other normal children.
The writer is interested to analyze two short stories that are The Rocking Horse
Winner by D.H. Lawrence and The Scarlet Ibis by James Hurst, because the writer
found deep and interesting issues in both short stories. Since both stories have common
in conveying the values of life. Both stories picture the life of two young men. Both tell
their experiences as passing from childhood to maturity. In that journey they are
pursuing the standard of person they love. They put high standard that both young men
struggle to achieve.
It is important for the writer to bring up the values of life revealed in both short
stories. It is needed to be shared to people who read it, their relation among others.
Furthermore, the writer also wants the reader to have a reflection for themselves after
reading it.
B. The Focus of the Study
The research is focused on the themes in The Rocking-Horse Winner and The
Scarlet Ibis that is seed of destruction in a family relationship that lead to the downfall of
other family members. The themes in both stories are compared to find the similarities
and the difference between both short stories. Firstly, the writer will analyze the way the
authors deliver the theme in each short story. Next, the writer will compare the themes
contained in both short stories through analyzing the similarities and differences
between them.
C. The Research Question
Based on the background of the research and the focus of the study above, the
research questions are:
1. How do the authors deliver main theme in The Rocking Horse Winner and The
Scarlet Ibis?
2. What are the similarities and the differences of sub-themes between the two
short stories?
D. The Objective and Significance of Study
The objectives of study are to know about the similarities and differences of
theme occurred in The Rocking-Horse Winner and The Scarlet Ibis.
The significance of study is classified into two, the academic and practical
significance of study. The academic significance of study is to fulfill one of the
requirements for “SI” degree to the Faculty of “Adab” and Humanities of the State Islamic
University “Syarif Hidayatullah” Jakarta. The practical one is to broad up the researcher’s
knowledge regarding to the comparison themes in the two short stories.
E. The Methodology of Study
1. The Method of Research
To solve the problems of research that are presented in the statement of
the problems, the writer uses qualitative method in doing this research and the
writer also uses the analytic descriptive to analyze the similarities and differences
of themes between short stories; The Rocking-Horse Winner and The Scarlet
Ibis. In the analytic descriptive, the writer described some facts and also the
result of analysis.1 The writer will describe some quotations in the stories to
support the similar themes and difference themes that have been found.
2. Instrument of the Research
In this research, the instrument of the research is the writer himself. The
writer used relevant materials that related with the study. The data that related to
the study collected from library.
3. The Unit of Analysis
The units of analysis in this research are two short stories, The Rocking
Horse Winner by D.H. Lawrence which was published in the 1926 in Harper’s
Bazaar magazine and The Scarlet Ibis by James Hurst which was first published
in July 1960 by the Atlantic Monthly Magazine.
4. The Time and Place of the Research
The skripsi is accomplished in 2007/2008 in English Letters Department, “Adab”
and Humanities Faculty. This skripsi is conducted at Islamic State University
Jakarta Library and other university‘s library in Jakarta, which provide the
information and references about the material that the writer needs, such as the
Library of Catholic Atmajaya, the Library of UI, and Library of UNJ.
1
Kutha Ratna, Nyoman, Teory, Metode dan TeknikPenulisan Sastra. (Jakarta, 2004). p. 53.
5. The Technique of Data Analysis
The collected data will be analyzed through descriptive qualitative
analysis. The data will be described in a restricted discussion and will be
supported by the evidences (quotations in the story) for the writer to give the
explanations. The writer conducts the research by comparing the two short
stories, describing the similar themes and the difference themes that can be
found by the writer and will be supported by the quotation the writer gets from
both short stories, in this research, the writer compare themes revealed in the
two shirt stories, The Rocking Horse Winner by D.H. Laurence and The Scarlet
Ibis by James Hurst to find out similarities and difference.
CHAPTER II
THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK
A. The Definition of Theme
The theme of the story is basically a kind of message and ideas from the author
to the people who read it. This is supported by James Pickering H. and D. Hoeper, as
they said in their book “it is the author’s way of communicating and sharing ideas,
perceptions and feelings with his readers”.2
In literature, a theme is abroad idea in a story, or message or lesson conveyed
by a work. This message is usually about life, society or human nature.3 Theme is not
just the central of a story at whole; it also contains moral lessons that can be applied in
everybody’s life. The idea of a story can be a way to learn and to teach in improving
someone’s attitude. The ideas bear interpretation of people’s
experience as it is
supported by Robert and Warren that, “the theme is what a piece of fiction stacks up to,
it is the idea, the significant, the interpretation of person and events, the pervasive and
unifying view of life, which is embodied in total narrative”.4
In a short fiction, theme may be found more than one as Henry Tarigan states
that, “… bahwa dalam karya fiksi mungkin saja ditemukan lebih dari satu tema…”5. As it
is also stated in a site that a theme as an idea or main concept of the story in many
novels or short stories, may contain more than one theme.6 It is
2
James H. Pickering and Jefeery D. Hoeper, Concise Companion to Literature, (New
York: Macmillan Publishing Co., Inc., 1981), p. 61
3
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theme_%28literature%29 on December.
4
Warren, Robert P., Understanding Fiction, (New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts, Inc.,
1969), p. 273.
5
Henry Guntur Tarigan, Prinsip-Prinsip Dasar Sastra, (Bandung Angkasa, 1991), p. 120.
6
Theme(literature), http:/wikipedia.org/wiki/theme %28literature%29.
now known that two or more themes can be revealed in a story. As Kennedy
states “theme of the story is whatever general idea or insight the entire story reveals.”7 It
has been stated also by Nurgiyantoro that “makna cerita dalam sebuah karya fiksi-novel,
mungkin saja lebih dari satu, atau lebih tepatnya: lebih dari satu interpretas.”8 From this
fact, the writer believes that every person reads the literary work may obtain different
themes as long as his themes are still related to the entire story.
Basic Elements in
Fiction
Point of
View
+
Exposition
+
Conflict
+
Character
Theme Or
Total
Meaning
=
Figure 1.
Basic Elements in Fiction9
The figure described that other elements of short fiction like point of view,
exposition, conflict, character are part of elements that supporting themes. In other
words, theme is the total meaning of those elements. It revealed from those elements.
Theme is the total meaning of the story. It is the underlying significance of the
experience the story relates; it is an interpretation of human life: it is the author’s
7
X J. Kennedy, An introduction to Fiction, (Boston, Toronto: Little, Brown and company,
1979), p.103
8
Burhan Nurgiyantoro, Teori Pengkajian Fiksi, (Yogyakarta: Gajah Mada University
Press. 2002.), p. 82
9
Marguerite Smith Holton, English Composition Book II, (New York: G. P. Putnam’s
Sons, 1996), p. 62
comments of human values; it is the sum total of all the elements in the story. It is an
implicit idea with universal overtones made manifest through the lives and thoughts of
the characters.10 To sustain his theme, the other select a particular point of view, inserts
information, creates particular conflicts.
In literary work, either short story or novel always has a theme because theme is
the center of idea in a literary work. There are various theories of themes the writer
found in the book of literary.
One of them is stated by William Kenny that “theme is one of the most important
elements of a novel to make the matter simple; theme is the meaning of the story. It also
means something that can be derived from the story and may be defined on the central
idea in a work of literature”11. As it is supported by James Pickering and D. Hoeper that
“Theme is the central idea or statement about life that unifies and control the total
work”12. In Kamus Istilah Sastra, it has been similarly defined that, “Tema adalah
gagasan, ide atau pikiran utama di dalam karya sastra yang terungkap ataupun tidak.
Tema dapat dijabarkan dalam beberapa pokok.”13
Other theorist, Sylvan Barnet et al in their book said that “usually, a story is about
something, it has a meaning, a point-theme.”14 William Kenny had some ideas about
theme that “theme is the total meaning discovered by the writer in the process of writing
and by the reader in the process of reading.”15
The theme is term which has various meaning for different people, “theme is also
used sometimes to refer to the basic issue, problem, or subject with which the works
10
ibid
William Kenny, How to Analyze Fiction, (New York: Monarch Press,, 1996), p. 89
12
James H. pickering and Jefeery D Hoeper, op. cit p., p.61.
13
Panuti Sudjiman, Kamus Istilah Sastra, (Jakarta: PT. Gramedia, 1984), p. 74
14
Silvant Barnet et al, An Introduction to Literature (New York: Monarch Press, 1961),
11
p.15.
15
William Kenny, op. cit., p.94
concerned”, said D. Hoeper and Pickering.16 In addition, the theme is considered as the
important information taken from the literary work. The information can be the human
experience, the comment on principle of individual characteristic and behavior, and the
conception of the person’s experience in the world.
According to Cleant Brooks, theme is an interpretation of the story itself. He
continues, it is an interpretation of the world beyond the story. So, the story may be
interpreted because it has what we call a theme, as Brook defined, the governing idea
implicit in the original situation of conflict that becomes the focal idea in the end of the
story.”17 Hence, the idea of a story could be interpreted beyond the story itself to reveal
the values of life.
The writer recognizes that theme must have accordance to the kind of the story
itself, whether it is comedy, horror or romantic. Theme can be built from other elements
of the story. It means theme is the story and the story is the theme. According to Brook
that “Only when the theme is implicit in the other elements of a play and a dynamic
progression of the story can the story be said to exist at all”18. So, it can be said that “the
story is the theme and theme is the story.”19
From several definitions of theme above, it can be concluded that every story
does not contain only one theme. It may contain more than one. Moreover, the theme
itself is every main point or the central insight revealed along the story that bring value of
life that can be a moral lesson for the readers.
B. The Importance of Theme in a Story
16
James H. pickering and Jefeery D Hoeper, op. cit., p.61.
Cleanth Brooks, Joan Thibaut Purser, Robert Penn Warren, An Approach to Literature,
(New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, Inc, Englewood Cliffs, 1964, 1967 ), p. 15
18
Ibid., p.17.
19
Ibid., p.17.
17
The writer thinks that story must have a theme because of what has been written
by X.J. Kennedy, that “theme is a center, moving force, the principle of unity.”20 In the
story, therefore, by having theme, it means that story has one center, in which all the
elements of stories meet. So, it has values to be shared to the people who read it.
Conversely, if story doesn’t have a theme, it means that story runs in many ways and
does not have one center where all the elements of the story meet. So, it would be
meaningless and the readers would not get something from what they read. As it stated
by Brooks and Warren that, “Themes as one essential part of short story is what is made
of the topic. It is the comment on the topic that is implied in the process of the story. The
theme does not easy to shown. It shall be comprehended and interpreted through other
data and story”.21
It is often hard for the readers to know theme of a story by comprehending the
content of the story as unity, however theme will be easier to be found. Reading the
story repeatedly also helps to obtain the theme and understand the story.
Next, it is important for people to know and get a theme in a story because it is
the way to make people have better awareness about anything they have understood
after they read a story. The writer thinks that the elements in a story are also important.
For instance characters and plot must relate to the theme.
If the author uses any piece element that is not related to the theme, it would
make confusion for the readers, and as a result they will not be able to get the idea of
the stories. If a theme is about the goodness versus the badness, some characters must
reflect the good attitude and some reflect the bad attitudes. The good characters must
describe that they really have positive sides to be against others who have negative
sides. Therefore, they will support the theme. So, every element of story must relate
20
21
X.J. Kennedy, op. cit., p. 104.
Brooks and Warren op cit, p. 265.
each other as stated by James Pickering H. and Jeffery D. Hoeper as they say in their
book Concise Company of Literature, also said that “all parts of the piece of work should
contribute to develop, or relate to the theme in some way.”22
Here are some ways to uncover the theme in a story:
1. Check out the title, sometimes it tells you a lot about the theme
2. Notice repeating patterns and symbols, sometimes these lead you to the
theme
3. What allusion is made throughout the story?
4. What are the details and particulars in the story?
5. What greater meaning may they have?23
It is needed to remember that theme, plot, and structure are inseparable. All are
helping to inform and reflect back on each other. Also, it needs to be aware that a theme
determine from a story never completely explains the story. It is simply one of the
elements that make up the whole.24
C. The Ways the Author Deliver the Theme
There are two ways that are used by the authors in conveying theme. In “Concise
Companion to Literature” Pickering and Hoeper said that “the theme must be explicitly
stated by one of the characters (who serves as spokesman for the author) or by the
author in the guise of an omniscient narrator.25 However, they also said that people must
be aware of theme in a story because without considering other elements of a story, the
characters and narrators alone can be unreliable and misleading.
On the other hand, according to theme, some themes are not stated, but those
are implied, revealed gradually through the treatment of characters and incidents and by
the progress and movement of a story. They also gave the reason for this,“ this is
particularly true of works in which theme is tied to the revelation character and/or what
22
James H. pickering and Jefeery D Hoeper, op. cit., p.19
http://www.learner.org/exhibits/literature/read/theme1.html Accessed on January 2008
24
Ibid
25
James Pickering and Hoeper, op.cit., p. 66
23
that character may imply about people or life in general.”26 As it is supported by Robert
and Warren that, “the theme is what is made of the topic. It is the content on the topic
that is implied in the process of the story.”27
The theme may be explicitly stated by one of the characters (who serve as a
spokesman for the author) or by the author in the guise of an omniscient narrator. Even
though such explicit statements must be taken seriously into account, a degree of
caution is also necessary, for as it is known that characters and narrators alike can be
unreliable and misleading. In most cases, however, theme is not stated but implied by
the work’s total rendering of experience; it is only gradually revealed through the
treatment of character and incident and by the progress and movement of the story. This
is particularly true of works in which theme is tied to the revelation of character and takes
the form of a statement about that character and/or what that character may imply about
people or life in general.
Furthermore, in one story, there may more than one theme. This statement is
strengthened by X. J. Kennedy in his book, Literature: An Introduction to Fiction, Poetry
and Drama. He says that, “Great short story, like great symphonies frequently have
more than one theme.”28 For example, in a novel or a short story, they would be several
themes. It depends on how the authors present their messages or ideas.
D. The Methods of Comparison
Comparison is such a familiar everyday activity. However, it may be difficult for
people to think of comparison itself as an important mental process. Furthermore,
without ability to perceive the similarities, people could not classify, define, or generalize.
26
Ibid.
Warren, Robert, op cit, p. 272
28
X.J. Kennedy, Literature: An Introduction To Fiction, Poetry And Drama, Second
Edition, (Boston: Little, Brown & Company, 1979), p. 91
27
And without the ability to perceive differences, people could not analyze, define, or
describe.
In comparing two short stories, there are two ways, the first one is “a common
but inferior, way is to make your points first about one work and then do the same for the
other. This method makes your paper seem like two big lumps, and it also involves much
repetition because the same points must be repeated as treating the second subject.
The first method is only satisfactory”29. So, in comparing themes, it would be necessary
to make points of themes that could be revealed by the character of the story or in other
elements of the story.
And the second one, “the superior’s method is to treat your main idea in its major
aspects and to make references to the two (or more) writers as the reference illustrates
and illuminates your main idea. After pointing the themes, the next steps are taking the
references from the story and making them into major aspects and illuminate them.30
The comparison of theme may be used to compare and contrast different
authors, two or more works by the same author, different drafts of the same wok, or
characters, incidents, and ideas within the same work or in different works.31 The
comparison –contrast that is not only popular in literature courses, but it is one of the
commonest approaches people will find in other disciplines. The ideas of philosophers
may be compared, or the approaches of two schools of psychology, or two conflicting
economic theories. The possibilities for using comparison-contrast are extensive.32
Comparison and contrast are the important means to gain understanding. First
when people start comparing the two short stories, however they will immediately notice
things that people may not have noticed at first. Making a comparison and contrast in
29
Ibid.
Ibid, p. 114.
31
Ibid.
32
Ibid,,p. 115.
30
this way enables people to see each short story in perspective, and therefore more
clearly.33
The comparison-contrast method is similarly rewarding whenever people apply it,
for perhaps the quickest way to get at the essence of an artistic work is to compare it
with another work. The comparison-contrast method is closely related to the study of
definition, because definition aims at the description of a particular thing by identifying its
properties while also isolating it from everything else. The problem is to select the proper
material-the grounds of the discussion. It is useless to try to compare dissimilar things,
for then conclusions will be of limited value. It is needed to put the works or writers which
are comparing onto common ground. Compare is like, idea with idea (themes with
themes), characterization with characterization, imagery with imagery, point of view with
point of view, problem with problem.34
There are two steps in using comparisons-contrast method. Firstly, it is needed
to state what works, authors, characters, and ideas are under consideration, then to
show how the basis of the comparison have been narrowed. The central idea will be a
brief statement of what can be learned from a research; the general similarities and
differences that have been observed from the comparison and or the superiority of one
work or author over another.35
It is any point may be chosen for comparison it might be comparing two works on
the basis of point of view or imagery, two authors on ideas, or two characters on
character traits. When it is comparing the ideas in two different works, the first part of
theme might be devoted to analyzing and describing the similarities and dissimilarities of
the ideas as ideas. Interest here is not so much to explain the ideas of either work
separately as to explain the ideas of both works in order to show points of agreement
33
Ibid, p. 112
Ibid.
35
Ibid, p. 118
34
and disagreement. A second part might be given over to the influences of the ideas on
the point of view of the particular works; that is, people might discuss how the ideas
make the works similar or dissimilar. If we are comparing characters, our point might be
to show similarities and dissimilarities of mental and spiritual qualities and of activities in
which the characters engage.36
In the conclusion of comparison research, it is comparatively free to reflect on
others ideas in the works that have been compared, to make observations on
comparative qualities, or to summarize briefly the basis grounds of comparison. The
conclusion of an extended comparison-contrast theme should represent a final bringing
together of the materials. In the body of the theme people may not have referred to all
the works in each paragraph; however, in the conclusion people should try to refer to
them all.37
Comparison is process of examining two or more things in order to establish their
similarities or differences. Both the word similarity and the word difference conjure up all
sorts of interesting images in the imagination, images that reflect their widespread use in
everyday thinking. Although similarity and difference are closely related, as being
different mental processes.38
In actually, any relationship between two or more things will involve some degree
of similarity as well as some degree of difference. In situations where there is both
similarity and difference between two things, a relation known as polarity exists between
them.39
In exploring a subject by using the topic of comparison, a sequence of steps
would probably be followed below:
36
Ibid.
Ibid.
38
Frank J. D’Angelo, Process and Thought in Composition, (Cambridge: Winthrop
Publisher, Inc, 1977), p. 195
39
Ibid.
37
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
Choose subjects that are interesting enough to challenge your imagination.
Try, if you decide to compare two commonplace subjects, to look at them
from a fresh point view.
Consider your purpose and your angel of vision. What particular point of
view, what particular insight you can give your readers to make them see
what you see.
Be certain that there are enough aspects of the things to be compared to
make a valid and interesting comparison. An aspect is a characteristic or
feature of the thing to be compared, considered from one point of view.
Choose only the most significant aspects of a subject to compare40.
To compare is to show how items are alike. To contrast is to show how items are
different. Thus comparison and contrast involve pointing out the similarities or
differences between two (or more) items. To help make the comparison as precise as
possible, the items compared are usually the same kind or class or things.
When deciding upon what to compare, it is needed to be sure that both items are
in the same general category and share many points in common. People can usually
compare two paintings more precisely than people can compare a novel and a painting.
Once two closely related items have been picked out, it is needed to explain as
clearly as possible the ways in which the items are alike or different. In any given piece
of writing, people may use comparison only- or contrast only. Or people may decide to
use some of both in the same research41.
There are some various way to compare things, they are:
When the writer compares (or contrast) to object item by item, it is called the
alternating or point-by-point method. If the writer prefers second type of
organization, the block method, he or she explains all the characteristics of the
first item together in a block and than explains all the characteristics of the
second items in a corresponding block. Third “mixed” method is useful when the
writer wants to both compare and contrast in the same paragraph. All the
similarities of the two items may be explained first and then all the differences.
(Of course, if the writer chooses, the differences may be explained first and then
similarities).42
40
Frank J. D’Angelo, Process and Thought in Composition, (Cambridge: Winthrop
Publisher, Inc, 1977), p.197
41
Mary Lou Conlin, Patterns a Short Prose Reader, ( Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company,
1983), p. 153
42
Ibid. p. 155-156
Comparison and contrast are such useful technique for explanation that college
instructors in many differences fields like to construct research questions that call for a
comparison or contrast in the answer.
The most important thing in analyzing a comparison and contrast is to make sure
that author organize the short fiction around certain definite point of comparison. That is,
people should always base the comparison on specific points that can be discussed
about both sides of the issue. To help readers to see the differences or the similarities
clearly, the researcher generally should deal with each of these points of comparison in
the same order for each half of the comparison.43
Comparison is a basic procedure of explanation and analysis. A comparison
presents two or more objects and describes and analyzes their similarities and
differences. In other words the writer will not only explain the similarities and differences
between the two (or more) works (or themes or plots or characters or other elements of
fiction that have been chosen to discuss) but also explain the significance of the
comparison itself.
Hence, the comparison-contrast method is a ground method very often to be
appeared in any field including literature. It is an important means to gain understanding
to notice things that people may not have noticed at first. Making a comparison and
contrast in this way enables people to see each short story in perspective, and therefore
more clearly.
43
Daniel Brown, Bill Burnet, Connections A Rhetoric/short prose reader, (Boston:
Houghton Mifflin Company, 1984), p. 121-122
CHAPTER III
RESEARCH FINDING
A. DATA DESCRIPTION
To support this analysis in this research the writer uses the following data
description containing similarity and difference of themes that are found in The
Rocking Horse Winner and The Scarlet Ibis. The writer will have two tables as
data description to be analyzed then. The first table contained similarity of
themes that are found in two short stories. The other one contained difference of
themes that are conveyed in the two short stories.
TABLE I
THE SIMILARITIES OF THEMES
NO
THEMES
1
Unending
Dissatisfaction
Leads
Disharmonious
Family
CORPUS
Paul . . . handed over five thousand
pounds to his uncle, who deposited it with
the family lawyer, who was then to inform
Paul’s mother that a relative had put five
thousand pounds into his hands, which
sum was to be paid out a thousand
pounds at a time on the mother’s
birthday, for the next five years.
So, she’ll have a birthday present of a
thousand pounds for five successive
years.
However, “Paul’s mother had had a long
interview with the lawyer, asking if the
whole five thousand could not be
advanced at once, as she was in debt”.
(The Rocking Horse Winner)
. . . “I made him swim until he turned blue
and row until he could not lift an oar…his
face turned red and his eyes become
glazed. Once he could go no further, so
he collapsed on the ground and began to
cry” (The Scarlet Ibis)
LINES
246 253
218 219
2
3
Killed by Love
Mistreating
Children
. . . Mother, did I ever tell you? I am lucky!"
"No, you never did," said the mother.
But the boy died in the night. (The
Rocking Horse Winner)
And even as he lay dead, his mother heard
her brother's voice saying to her: "My God,
Hester, you're eighty-odd thousand to the
good, and a poor devil of a son to the bad.
But, poor devil, poor devil, he's best gone
out of a life where he rides his rockinghorse to find a winner." (The Rocking
Horse Winner)
446 449
. . . I began to believe in my own
infallibility and I prepared a terrific
development program for him, unknown
to Mama and Daddy, of course. I would
teach him to run, to swim, to climb trees,
and to fight. He, too, now believed in my
infallibility, so we set the deadline for
these accomplishments less than a year
away . . .
(The Scarlet Ibis)
184 187
"Don’t hurt me, Brother," he warned.
"Shut up. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m
going to teach you to walk." I heaved him
up again, and again he collapsed. This
time he did not lift his face up out of the
rubber grass.
(The Scarlet Ibis)
116 118
450 453
. . . “And aren’t you lucky either, mother? 79 - 83
“I can’t be, if I married an unlucky
husband,”
“But yourself, aren’t you?”
“I used to think I was, before I married.
Now I think I am very unlucky indeed.”
(The Rocking Horse Winner)
. . . I’m a lucky person.”
88 - 92
“why?” said his mother, with a sudden
laugh
He stared at her. He didn’t even know
why he had said it.
“God told me,” He asserted, blazening it
out.
“I hope He did, Dear!”, She said, again
with a laugh, but rather bitter.
(The Rocking Horse Winner)
. . . then said, “It’s not mine.”
94 - 98
“It is,” I said. “And before I’ll help you
4
Too Much Pride
Can Kill.
.
down from the loft, you’re going to have
to touch it.”
“I won’t touch it,” he said sullenly.
“Then I’ll leave you here by yourself,” I
threatened, and made as if I were going
down,. Doodle was frightened, of being
left. “Don’t go leave me.
(The Scarlet Ibis)
. . . he cried, and he leaned toward the 99 - 103
coffin. His hand, trembling, reached out,
and when he touched the casket, he
screamed . . . he clung to me, crying,
“Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me.”
(The Scarlet Ibis)
. . . he said stoutly, "I'm a lucky person."
88 - 91
"Why?" said his mother, with a sudden
laugh.
He stared at her. He didn't even know why
he had said it.
"God told me," he asserted, brazening it
out.
(The Rocking Horse Winner)
"I never told you, Mother, that if I can ride
my horse, and get there, then I'm
absolutely sure—oh, absolutely! Mother,
did I ever tell you? I am lucky!"
"No, you never did," said the mother.
But the boy died in the night.
(The Rocking Horse Winner)
. . . I did not know then that pride is a
wonderful, terrible thing, a seed that bears
two vines, life and death . . . Occasionally I
too became discouraged because it didn’t
seem as if he was trying, and I would say,
"Doodle, don’t you want to learn to walk?"
(The Scarlet Ibis)
. . . I began to believe in my own infallibility
and I prepared a terrific development
program for him, unknown to Mama and
Daddy, of course. I would teach him to run,
to swim, to climb trees, and to fight. He,
too, now believed in my infallibility, so we
set the deadline for these
accomplishments less than a year away . .
. (The Scarlet Ibis)
445 449
124 128
184 187
TABLE II
THE DIFFERENCES OF THEMES
NO
THEMES
1
Seed of
Destruction in
Family
Relationship.
2
Living Beyond
Limit
CORPUS
LINES
“Well, anyhow,” he said stoutly,” I’m a
88 - 94
lucky person.”
“why?” said his mother, with a sudden
laugh
He stared at her. He didn’t even know
why he had said it.
“God told me,” He asserted, blazening
it out.
“I hope He did, Dear!” , She said, again
with a laugh, but rather bitter.
“He did, Mother!”
“Excellent!” said the mother.
(The Rocking Horse Winner)
Doodle told them it was I who had 154 taught him to walk, so everyone 158
wanted to hug me, and I began to cry.
"What are you crying for?" asked
Daddy, but I couldn’t answer. They did
not know that I did it for myself; that
pride, whose slave I was, spoke to me
louder than all their voices; and that
Doodle walked only because I was
ashamed of having a crippled brother.
. . . all of us must have something or
someone to be proud of, and Doodle
had become mine. I did not know then
that pride is a wonderful . . .
(The Scarlet Ibis)
. . . It frightened Paul terribly . . . But
300 even for the Lincoln he didn't "know,"
345
and he lost fifty pounds. He became
wild-eyed and strange, as if something
were going to explode in him.
So the child cried, trying to get up and
urge the rocking-horse that gave him his
inspiration
And even as he lay dead, his mother
heard her brother's voice saying to her:
"My God, Hester . . .
(The Rocking Horse Winner)
"Shut up, I'm not going to hurt you. I'm
going to teach you to walk,"
3
Strains effect
different way
(The Scarlet Ibis)
. . . "it's because your father has no
luck."
117
59 - 73
The boy was silent for some time.
"Is luck money, mother?" he asked,
rather timidly.
"No, Paul. Not quite. It's what causes
you to have money."
Then what is luck, mother?"
"It's what causes you to have money. If
you're lucky you have money. That's
why it's better to be born lucky than rich.
If you're rich, you may lose your money.
But if you're lucky, you will always get
more money."
"Oh! Will you? And is father not lucky?"
"Very unlucky, I should say," she said
bitterly . . .
(The Rocking Horse Winner)
He was a burden in many ways. The
doctor had said that he mustn’t get too
excited, too hot, too cold, or too tired
and that he must always be treated
gently . . . all of which I ignored once we
got out of the house . . .
(The Scarlet Ibis)
. . . I was embarrassed at having a
brother of that age who couldn’t walk, so
I set out to teach him. (The Scarlet Ibis)
66 - 68
. . . I had succeeded in teaching
Doodle to walk, I began to believe in
my own infallibility and I prepared a
terrific development program for him,
unknown to Mama and Daddy, of
course. I would teach him to run, to
swim, to climb trees, and to fight. He,
too, now believed in my infallibility . . .
184 187
104 105
4
A Shortcut to
obtain love and
Pride
(The Scarlet Ibis)
. . . what are you going to do with your 290 money?" asked the uncle. "Of course," 292
said the boy. "I started it for mother.
She said she had no luck, because
Father is unlucky . . .
(The Rocking Horse Winner)
Paul, at the other's suggestion, handed
246 over five thousand pounds to his uncle,
251
who deposited it with the family lawyer,
who was then to inform Paul's mother
that a relative had put five thousand
pounds into his hands, which sum was
to be paid out a thousand pounds at a
time, on the mother's birthday, for the
next five years. (The Rocking Horse
Winner)
When Doodle was five years old, I was
embarrassed at having a brother of that
age who couldn’t walk, so I set out to
teach him.
104 105 and
189 190
That winter we didn’t make much
progress, for I was in school and Doodle
suffered from one bad cold after
another. But when spring came, rich and
warm, we raised our sights again. (The
Scarlet Ibis)
B.
ANALYSIS
1. The Way Authors Use to Deliver the Themes in the Two
Short Stories
At first, the writer will analyze about how the themes are delivered
in both stories. In the story The Rocking Horse Winner D H Lawrence
does not state the themes of the story directly. The writer has done the
steps to find out the theme of the story. The writer has read it entire story
and cannot find the statement of theme. According to Hoeper, theme must
be explicitly stated by one of the character. They are implied. The author
only uses his description to convey the themes through character and
other elements of story that help the writer to find out the theme. Thus,
people must read carefully and think further in order to get the theme.
It is similar to DH Lawrence in delivering themes in the story;
James Hurst in the story The Scarlet Ibis also uses indirect way to state it.
He uses the elements of a story, such as the characters, plot, and so on to
convey the themes. Even though, the themes were implied, the other
element of story was very helpful to find out the theme.
2. The Themes Of The Two Short Stories
In D.H. Lawrence’s short story, “The Rocking-Horse Winner”, and
James Hurst’s “The Scarlet Ibis”, there were many issues to consider.
Although these two short stories are different, the main theme is similar. It
is a seed of destruction in a family relationship that lead to the downfall of
other family members.
It can be seen in Paul’s relationship with his mother in “The
Rocking Horse Winner”, and Doodle’s relationship with his brother in the
story “The Scarlet Ibis”. Both Paul and Doodle are controlled by a
relationship within their family that pushes them too hard until lead them
into death.
A. The Similarities of Themes in “The Rocking Horse Winner” and in
“The Scarlet Ibis”.
1. Unending Dissatisfaction Leads Disharmonious Family
The setting in The Rocking-Horse Winner starts with the mother,
who is described as beautiful but shown as having no luck. She has a
very handsome husband and 3 beautiful children, a boy and 2 girls.
They live in a pleasant home, with a garden and discreet servants.
They live in style with little income and felt superior to anyone in their
neighborhood. In this story, the one who is never satisfied is Paul’s
mother. She is a mother of one son and two daughters who is never
satisfied of what she has already had in her household. She always
needs more money to fulfill her desire of luxury. However, her husband
earned less so she debt large mount of money that she can’t pay and
blame her husband as an unlucky person who cannot earn much
money.
People can see from this quotation, “the mother, who had a
great belief in herself, did not succeed any better, and her tastes were
just as expensive. And so the house came to be haunted by the
unspoken phrase: There must be more money! There must be more
money!”.(p.4). She has an expensive taste but has a low income so it
bears anxiety and dissatisfaction around the house. Actually, she
deserves to grateful to have complete family comprises a handsome
husband, one son and two daughters. The lack of money leads
dissatisfaction in her self. It effected to her son who define money as
luck. Paul does the rocking horse race to pursue the love of her mother
by giving her money to let her know that he is a lucky boy. However,
after Paul gave her the money through his uncle. She wanted more
and more. As quotation below:
Paul, handed over five thousand pounds to his uncle, who
deposited it with the family lawyer, who was then to inform
Paul’s mother that a relative had put five thousand pounds into
his hands, which sum was to be paid out a thousand pounds at
a time on the mother’s birthday, for the next five years.
So, she’ll have a birthday present of a thousand pounds for five
successive years.
However, “Paul’s mother had had a long interview with the
lawyer, asking if the whole five thousand could not be advanced
at once, as she was in debt”.
It was all not sufficient because, the voices in the house
suddenly went mad, like a chorus of frogs on the spring evening. It
made Paul try harder to find out the next winner in next rocking
horse race to gain more money to disappear the voices.
The attitude of his mother who spends money lavishly he
had given caused the house screaming “there must be more money
no, more than ever”. The dissatisfied of the mother of money led
Paul to earn more money with hard struggling and it caused him
into death.
In the story of The Scarlet Ibis, the one who is never
satisfied is Doodle’s brother. He arranges the plan to make Doodle
to be like other boy to be normal. He has succeeded at first to make
Doodle to be able to walk. As people can see in this quotation,
“Once I had succeeded in teaching Doodle to walk, I began to
believe in my own infallibility and I prepared a terrific development
program for him, unknown to Mama and Daddy, of course. I would
teach him to run, to swim, to climb trees and to fight”. (p.56) He
does not satisfied of just making Doodle able to walk. He wanted
more progress. Then he forced the clapped Doodle to do hard
activity like swimming, as people can see in this quotation, “I made
him swim until he turned blue and row until he could not lift an
oar…his face turned red and his eyes become glazed. Once he
could go no further, so he collapsed on the ground and began to
cry” (p.62).
The fact that Doodle can walk after being taught by his
brother does not make his brother satisfied. In fact, he taught
Doodle roughly to swim. He wanted more progress of Doodle’s
ability. However, the dissatisfaction of Doodle’s brother has hurt
Doodle. Brother realizes that it hurt Doodle. His desire of being
proud as someone who can make Doodle to be a normal boy make
him ignored Doodle’s painful.
Doodle’s brother did not feel grateful of the fact that he can
make his handicapped brother able to walk. It was actually a
miracle. But he thinks that it came from his effort in giving treatment
to Doodle. He wanted more progress of Doodle so that he can gain
more pride from every body around him including their parents. The
greed of pride urged him to teach many other treatments.
From the explanations above the writer can see that Mother
in The Rocking Horse Winner has the same attitude with Doodle’s
brother in The Scarlet Ibis. They force the person they love to fulfill
their desire. Their unending dissatisfaction hurt their family
member. Even more, it caused them died in very early age.
2. Killed by Love
Both stories describe death in the end of the stories. Both are
two young men who were struggling to pursue love and care from the
person they love. Paul in The Rocking Horse Winner and Doodle in
The Scarlet Ibis died in early age because of a journey in pursuing the
love of a mother and an older brother. Paul struggled to find luck in
order to get his mother’s love. Doodle struggle to be a normal boy in
order to be accepted by his brother who was ashamed to have him as
a crippled brother. Both were killed by the journey to obtain love and
care from the person they love.
Paul’s mother always feels lacking of money in her life. It
caused her accept the risk which is losing her son’s life.
Actually, if Paul’s mother stop to feel lacking of money, Paul
might not worry and would not try very hard guessing The Rocking Horse Winner to earn more money to give it to his mother. Since after
Paul gave money to his mother, the condition in the house is getting
worse because money is just like ecstasy. As we can see in the
quotation below:
“Paul's mother touched the whole five thousand. Then
something very curious happened. The voices in the house
suddenly went mad, … simply trilled and screamed in a sort of
ecstasy: "There must be more money! Oh-h-h; there must be
more money. Oh, now, now-w! Now-w-w—there must be more
money!—more than ever! More than ever!"
It gave Paul anxiety because he desired to obtain more money
to recover the condition of the house. As it is told in the story, “It
frightened Paul terribly”. This condition makes him force himself to
know the winner of the rocking horse race to win the race. The
dissatisfied feeling of his mother that cause Paul try harder to obtain
money make his mother even has to get the risk to lose her son’s life.
Even though, he could guess the winner and win over eighty thousand
pounds, he should pay it with his life. And his mother who always lacks
of money had to get the risk lose her son’s life, to lose everything.
Because money has no more value when her son’s life has been taken
away. As it can be seen in the quotation below:
"I never told you, Mother, that if I can ride my horse, and get
there, then I'm absolutely sure—oh, absolutely! Mother, did I
ever tell you? I am lucky!"
"No, you never did," said the mother.
But the boy died in the night.
And even as he lay dead, his mother heard her brother's voice
saying to her: "My God, Hester, you're eighty-odd thousand to
the good, and a poor devil of a son to the bad. But, poor devil,
poor devil, he's best gone out of a life where he rides his
rocking-horse to find a winner."
In the scarlet Ibis, the dissatisfied feeling is owned by Doodle’s
brother who embarrassed to have a crippled bother like Doodle and it
caused him to have a plan to train to do hard activities for his crippled
brother. However, the little progress got by Doodle is not enough for his
brother. He wanted Doodle to be normal like others. The greedy
ambition brings death to Doodle because he could not do all the tough
activities that forced by his brother. The dissatisfied feeling of Doodle’s
brother can be seen when he forced Doodle to swim. Doodle’s brother
thought that he had succeeded to teach Doodle to walk.
“At breakfast on our chosen day, when Mama, Daddy, and Aunt
Nicey were in the dining room, I brought Doodle to the door in
the go-cart just as usual and had them turn their backs, making
them cross their hearts and hope to die if they peeked. I helped
Doodle up, and when he was standing alone I let them look.
There wasn’t a sound as Doodle walked slowly across the room
and sat down at his place at the table. Then Mama began to cry
and ran over to him, hugging him and kissing him”.
But, it is not enough for him, it is the happiness and pride that
Doodle’s brother got in making Doodle could swim, run, climb, fight,
and row.
“Once I had succeeded in teaching Doodle to walk, I began to
believe in my own infallibility and I prepared a terrific
development program for him, unknown to Mama and Daddy, of
course. I would teach him to run, to swim, to climb trees, and to
fight. He, too, now believed in my infallibility, so we set the
deadline for these accomplishments less than a year away,
when, it had been decided, Doodle could start to school”.
One day, without considering the physical condition of Doodle,
he was sure that Doodle would be able to swim. As the result, Doodle
warned his brother not to hurt him by forcing him to swim. As in the
below quotation:
"Don’t hurt me, Brother," he warned.
"Shut up. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to teach you to
walk." I heaved him up again, and again he collapsed. This time
he did not lift his face up out of the rubber grass.
"I just can’t do it. Let’s make honeysuckle wreaths."
"Oh yes you can, Doodle," I said. "All you got to do is try.
Now come on," and I hauled him up once more.
It seemed so hopeless from the beginning that it’s a miracle
The dissatisfied feeling of doodle’s brother ended when the
activities set up by him brought Doodle into death. Doodle’s brother
supposed to be realistic to see Doodle’s physical condition. It supposed
to sufficient to see Doodle was able to walk as a progress. However,
Doodle’s brother wanted more. He wanted his crippled brother to be
able to do activities that are usually done by other normal boys. The
dissatisfaction didn’t bring any advantages. Even more, it makes his
lost everything by the death of his brother.
In both short stories, high ambition bring little grateful of the
small result and lead to get the risk of loosing everything because of
the dissatisfaction of Paul’s mother in The Rocking Horse Winner and
of Doodle’s brother in The Scarlet Ibis. Both characters in each story
lost person they love. Their high ambition brings death to them.
In both stories the writer sees the sub themes similarity that is
something that is gained with voraciously even will end disaster. In both
stories, it was described that Paul’s mother in The Rocking Horse
Winner and Doodle’s brother in The Scarlet Ibis pursued their desire
voraciously until they even lose their member of family.
3. Mistreating Children
Mistreating children is shown in both stories. In “The Rocking
Horse Winner”, the older person who treated her children in a
wrong way is Paul’s mother. She explained Paul about luck and
money badly. She also makes Paul penetrate the fact that money is
luck. The father lacks of luck so the family lack of money. It means
that they lack of luck. As quotation below:
“And aren’t you lucky either, mother?
“I can’t be, if I married an unlucky husband,”
“But yourself, aren’t you?”
“I used to think I was, before I married. Now I think I am very
unlucky indeed.”
“Why?”
“Well- never mind! Perhaps I’m not really” she said.
She even doubted Paul to have luck. Paul dislikes it and
pursues luck to prove to his mother that he is lucky.
“Well, anyhow,” he said stoutly,” I’m a lucky person.”
“why?” said his mother, with a sudden laugh
He stared at her. He didn’t even know why he had said it.
“God told me,” He asserted, blazening it out.
“I hope He did, Dear!” , She said, again with a laugh, but
rather bitter.
“He did, Mother!”
“Excellent!” said the mother.
The boy saw she did not believe him; or rather, that she paid
no attention to his assertion. This angered him somewhat,
and made him want to compel her attention.
The first knowledge for kids is what they get from their
parents. Mother in The Rocking Horse Winner explained his son
about luck and money unwisely. It makes Paul has a wrong point of
view about money and luck. He penetrated his mother’s words that
someone who can earn much money is someone who is lucky.
Paul thought that he can prove this mother that he is lucky and
make her proud.
The older person who is expected to behave more sensibly
in the story “The Scarlet Ibis” is Doodle’s brother, because he
supposed to except his crippled bother as the way he is. However,
Doodle’s brother in the name of pride set a rude practice for Doodle
in order to make him just like other normal kids, to be able to walk,
to swim and to do more activities.
Once, Doodle’s brother had urged Doodle to touch his
mahogany box (Doodle has been predicted to have short life, until
his parents had prepared him a coffin). Doodle was terrified and did
not want to do that. But, Doodle’s brother threads to leave him
alone near the coffin.
Doodle studied the mahogany box for along time, then said,
“It’s not mine.”
“It is,” I said. “And before I’ll help you down from the loft,
you’re going to have to touch it.”
“I won’t touch it,” he said sullenly.
“Then I’ll leave you here by yourself,” I threatened, and
made as if I were going down,. Doodle was frightened, of
being left. “Don’t go leave me.
Brother, he cried, and he leaned toward the coffin. His hand,
trembling, reached out, and when he touched the casket, he
screamed. A screech owl flapped out the box into our faces,
scaring us and covering us with Paris green. Doodle was
paralyzed, so I put him on my shoulder and carried him
down the ladder, and even we were outside in the bright
sunshine, he clung to me, crying, “Don’t leave me. Don’t
leave me.”
The quotation above proved that Doodle’s brother as the
older person could not behave more sensibly. Even more, he
insisted his brother to do cruel things which is to touch the coffin
that actually was made for him. For a crippled boy like Doodle, of
course, it was terrifying. Doodle should not have to be treated that
way by his elder brother.
The more quotation proves the unexpected attitude of
Doodle’s brother is when he taught Doodle to swim. He ignored the
inability of Doodle to cope with the cold in the pool and keep on
urging Doodle to learn to swim by saying,
“Aw, come on Doodle,” I urged. “You can do it. Do you want
to be different from everybody else when you start school?
“Does it make any difference?”
“It certainly does, “ I said. “Now, come on,” and I helped him
up.
The question of Doodle’s brother above actually is from his
heart. He felt embarrassed to have crippled brother. He wanted
Doodle to try harder to learn to swim to be just like other normal
boys. As the older person, he is not expected so, since it made
Doodle depressed and lost his confident. His brother supposed to
support him to do activities that helped him to adapt with other
normal boys well.
The way he treated Doodle and trained Doodle, had proven
that he did love Doodle but was ashamed of him at the same time.
Pride has blinded Doodle’s brother to see that Doodle’s life is more
precious than proving to others that he could train his brother to be
just like other normal boys.
In both stories, Paul’s mother and Doodle’s brother have
badly treated them as little boys. Both characters are the older
person in the family relationship. However they did not treat kids
like Paul and Doodle wisely. They just care about what they
wanted.
4. Too Much Pride Can Kill.
In The Rocking Horse Winner, the writer can see that after
discussing about luck with his mother, Paul has faith. He
encourages himself to find out luck and make himself as a lucky
person. His self-confident increases when he involved himself in a
rocking-horse race. Then he told to his mother that he is a lucky
boy as in the quotation below:
"Well, anyhow," he said stoutly, "I'm a lucky person." "Why?"
said his mother, with a sudden laugh.
He stared at her. He didn't even know why he had said it.
"God told me," he asserted, brazening it out.
"I hope He did, dear!", she said, again with a laugh, but rather
bitter.
"He did, mother!"
"Excellent!" said the mother.
After that he determined and worked hard to prove to his
mother that he is a lucky boy indeed. After seeking inwardly for luck, he
finally found his luck with doing gambling in rocking horse race. He
always found his victory. The money he resulted directly he gave it to
his mother without her knowledge. Actually what ever he did, he did it
to get her mother’s love and compassion. However, before getting what
he wanted, he was very exhausted in forcing himself to find out the
next winner of rocking horse race until caused him death. Even until his
death, his mother ignores his luck as in below quotation:
“In his green pajamas, madly surging on the rocking-horse. The
blaze of light suddenly lit him up, as he urged the wooden
horse, and lit her up, as she stood, blonde, in her dress of pale
green and crystal, in the doorway.”
"It's Malabar!" he screamed in a powerful, strange voice. "It's
Malabar!"
His eyes blazed at her for one strange and senseless second,
as he ceased urging his wooden horse. Then he fell with a
crash to the ground, and she, all her tormented motherhood
flooding upon her, rushed to gather him up.
"I never told you, Mother, that if I can ride my horse, and get
there, then I'm absolutely sure—oh, absolutely! Mother, did I
ever tell you? I am lucky!"
"No, you never did," said the mother.
But the boy died in the night
It all proves that Paul who is too proud of himself for making
money for his mother by gaining luck in a race got an accident that
make him look foolish that he dead by surging on the rocking-horse to
find out the winner of the race. He won the money but he should pay it
with his life. He got the luck but he did not get what he wanted from his
mother; love.
In The Scarlet Ibis, Doodle’s brother is the character who is too
proud of himself in making his cripple brother to be able to walk.
However, at one moment, something had happened that make him
look foolish. It is when Doodle cried for help and cried his name in his
dying moment. He desired his brother to help him. However, he ignored
the voice of his own brother. His ignorance caused his brother died
because the immediate aid was not done by him. All that is in his head
is how to increase his pride not how to maintain his cripple brother’s
health. So that, it made him look foolish because his brother even died
because of his desire to more increase his own pride. Doodle’s brother
feels useless with what he had taught to Doodle. As the quotation
below:
. . . I did not know then that pride is a wonderful, terrible thing, a
seed that bears two vines, life and death . . . Occasionally I too
became discouraged because it didn’t seem as if he was trying,
and I would say, "Doodle, don’t you want to learn to walk?"
Once I had succeeded in teaching Doodle to walk, I began to
believe in my own infallibility and I prepared a terrific
development program for him, unknown to Mama and Daddy, of
course. I would teach him to run, to swim, to climb trees, and to
fight. He, too, now believed in my infallibility, so we set the
deadline for these accomplishments less than a year away,
when, it had been decided, Doodle could start to school.
In both stories, too much having pride could bring damage even
more it could bring death. As it was discussed above, both characters
who have to accept the damage of pride are Paul and Doodle’s brother.
Paul has to lose his own life and Brother has to lose his brother’s life.
B. The Different of Themes of “The Rocking Horse Winner” and in
“The Scarlet Ibis”
1. Seed of Destruction in Family Relationship.
Both stories has different root of problems which was driving
the conflict in a family. In The Rocking Horse Winner, the character
who drives conflict is Paul’s mother. Her big desire of money makes
her give a wrong perception to her son about luck and money. She
cares nothing but money.
She tells clearly to his son that her husband is unlucky
person because he does not earn much money. She shows her
disrespect to her husband in front of her son. Paul feels
disappointed of listening what his mother said about his father then
he tells his mother that he is actually a lucky person.
“Well, anyhow,” he said stoutly,” I’m a lucky person.”
“why?” said his mother, with a sudden laugh
He stared at her. He didn’t even know why he had said it.
“God told me,” He asserted, blazening it out.
“I hope He did, Dear!” , She said, again with a laugh, but
rather bitter.
“He did, Mother!”
“Excellent!” said the mother.
From the conversation above, Paul feels that he has been
doubted by his mother because her mother cynically says I hope
He did dear when Paul tells her that God has told him that he is a
lucky person. It makes Paul get great effort to pursue luck through
money to get his mother’s attention. However, Paul’s mother is
busy to fulfill her desire of luxury lifestyle. It makes her ignore her
duty to give attention, good advice, and a good example to respect
the father to her children.
The first knowledge accepted by a child is in family. The first
knowledge Paul recognize from his conversation with his mother is
that money will follow luck. If someone were lucky, he must have
lots of money. Therefore, Paul tries to find luck and he finds it in a
rocking horse race. A game, must not be played by a boy like Paul.
However, he needs to play it to find out that he is lucky. From the
races he wins, he can earn some money. He thought that by the
money he earned he will prove to his mother that what he had said
to his mother that he is a lucky person was definitely true.
The fact that can be seen in The Rocking Horse Winner is;
money is the reason for Paul to have a distance with his mother. It
is the seed of destruction in Paul’s family. He tried to break the
distance by trying to prove to his mother that he can get what his
mother has been doubted: luck. Unfortunately, the little boy got his
luck through doing gambling in a rocking horse race.
On the other side, the seed of destruction found in family
relationship in The Scarlet Ibis is pride. Pride is the motivation of
the brother who tried very hard to make his crippled brother
(Doodle) to be normal just like other normal boys.
Brother feels that pride is something pleasant. It feels good
for him to show to every body that he is the person who can make
his brother able to walk. The needs of pride grew eventually. It can
be seen by the way he arranged the cruel treatments to teach
Doodle to run, to climb, to fight, and to swim. He did it to show to
every body that he can make his brother to be normal just like other
normal boys. He did it for pride ignoring the physical condition of his
brother.
Doodle told them it was I who had taught him to walk, so
everyone wanted to hug me, and I began to cry.
"What are you crying for?" asked Daddy, but I couldn’t
answer. They did not know that I did it for myself; that pride,
whose slave I was, spoke to me louder than all their voices;
and that Doodle walked only because I was ashamed of
having a crippled brother.
. . . all of us must have something or someone to be proud
of, and Doodle had become mine. I did not know then that
pride is a wonderful . . .
Pride has become the reason for Brother to push Doodle to
do cruel activities to train him to be a normal boy. It makes Doodle
exhausted and finally died in making his brother get his pride.
Therefore, the seed of destruction in The Rocking Horse
Winner is money and pride in The Scarlet Ibis. Money is the cause
for Paul’s mother to lose his son and pride is the reason for brother
to lose his brother.
2. Living Beyond Limit
The Rocking Horse Winner and The Scarlet Ibis describe a
living beyond limit; Paul accepts great strain from his mother luxury
lifestyle by being financially responsible and Doodle is controlled by
being taught many hard activities by his brother to be normal like
others.
Paul in The Rocking Horse Winner is controlled in family
relationships. His mother puts great strain on him by being
financially irresponsible, and living beyond their means. Paul feels
the strain, and is influenced by it to take the pressure away so he
tried so hard to earn much money in the race. He did it beyond
limit. He works himself into a frenzy to find more money for his
mother. Once he goes through this exhausting experience, he
saves his money to give to his mother. She wants it all at once,
however, and against his better judgment, but because of his need
for love, he gives her the money all at once. Paul is pushed by his
mother to exhaustion. He pushes himself too hard until he
exhausted and died. As the quotation below:
"We're partners. We've been partners from the first. Uncle, he
lent me my first five shillings, which I lost. I promised him, honor
bright, it was only between me and him; only you gave me that
ten-shilling note I started winning with, so I thought you were
lucky. You won't let it go any further, will you?”
The boy gazed at his uncle from those big, hot, blue eyes, set
rather close together . . .
. . . It frightened Paul terribly . . . But even for the Lincoln he
didn't "know," and he lost fifty pounds. He became wild-eyed
and strange, as if something were going to explode in him.
So the child cried, trying to get up and urge the rocking-horse
that gave him his inspiration
And even as he lay dead, his mother heard her brother's voice
saying to her: "My God, Hester . . .
Doodle in another story is controlled by his brother. Brother
puts great strain on him by teaching him many hard activities to be
done by a crippled brother like Doodle. He was taught beyond limit
by his brother to do the rough treatments to pursue their goal;
making Doodle be normal boy. Doodle is forced to learn to walk
through Brother's determination. "Shut up, I'm not going to hurt you.
I'm going to teach you to walk," his brother has said before heaving
him up to try again. Brother's pride pushes Doodle to be like the
other children, causing them to set unattainable goals of rowing,
climbing, and swimming. Doodle is stretched to exhaustion through
these exertions. Brother forced him too hard until he was exhausted
and died in the end.
Paul and Doodle are forced different way. Paul feels the
strain of lacking of money so he was financially responsible and
pursuit money through the race. In another side, Doodle is forced
by his brother to do cruel activities beyond his means.
3. Strains effect different way
In The Rocking Horse Winner, the strain is strongly faced by
Paul. It caused by his mother. After talking with his mother about
Luck, his mother put great strain to him. From his conversation with
his mother about luck and money, he assumes that he must
become a lucky person to earn much money for his mother so that
he may have his mother’s attention. How ever it bears a positive
effect that is Paul become an independent boy who can earn
money by himself.
"Mother," said the boy Paul one day, "why don't we keep a car
of our own? Why do we always use uncle's, or else a taxi?"
"Because we're the poor members of the family," said the
mother.
"But why are we, mother?"
"Well—I suppose," she said slowly and bitterly, "it's because
your father has no luck."
The boy was silent for some time.
"Is luck money, mother?" he asked, rather timidly.
"No, Paul. Not quite. It's what causes you to have money."
Then what is luck, mother?"
"It's what causes you to have money. If you're lucky you have
money. That's why it's better to be born lucky than rich. If you're
rich, you may lose your money. But if you're lucky, you will
always get more money."
"Oh! Will you? And is father not lucky?"
"Very unlucky, I should say," she said bitterly.
The boy watched her with unsure eyes.
"Why?" he asked. "I don't know. Nobody ever knows why one
person is lucky and another unlucky."
"Don't they? Nobody at all? Does nobody know?"
"Perhaps God. But He never tells."
"He ought to, then. And aren't you lucky either, mother?"
"I can't be, if I married an unlucky husband."
"But by yourself, aren't you?"
The child looked at her to see if she meant it. But he saw, by
the lines of her mouth, that she was only trying to hide
something from him.
"Well, anyhow," he said stoutly, "I'm a lucky person."
"Why?" said his mother, with a sudden laugh.
He stared at her. He didn't even know why he had said it.
"God told me," he asserted, brazening it out.
"I hope He did, dear!", she said, again with a laugh, but rather
bitter.
"He did, mother!"
"Excellent!" said the mother.
The boy saw she did not believe him; or rather, that she paid no
attention to his assertion. This angered him somewhat, and
made him want to compel her attention.
It was different with doodle in the Scarlet Ibis, he always need
his brother in every minutes of his life. It was because his mother
always told to Doodle’s brother to take him wherever he goes. Doodle’s
brother feels ashamed to take doodle along with him because Doodle
is a handicapped boy. Therefore, Doodle’s brother teach doodle with
many thing to make him normal. The strain is given to Doodle until he
was totally under his brother’s controlled. This fact made him could
release himself from his brother. He became very dependent to his
brother. Everything he wanted to do must be under his brother
controlled. The negative side here is seen that the strain given by
brother made Doodle became a dependent little boy.
At first I just paraded him up and down the piazza, but then he
started crying to be taken out into the yard and it ended up by
my having to lug him wherever I went. If I so much as picked up
my cap, he’d start crying to go with me, and Mama would call
from wherever she was, "Take Doodle with you."
He was a burden in many ways. The doctor had said that he
mustn’t get too excited, too hot, too cold, or too tired and that he
must always be treated gently. A long list of don’ts went with
him, all of which I ignored once we got out of the house. To
discourage his coming with me, I’d run with him across the ends
of the cotton rows and careen him around corners on two
wheels.
When Doodle was five years old, I was embarrassed at having
a brother of that age who couldn’t walk, so I set out to teach
him.
Once I had succeeded in teaching Doodle to walk, I began to
believe in my own infallibility and I prepared a terrific
development program for him, unknown to Mama and
Daddy, of course. I would teach him to run, to swim, to climb
trees, and to fight. He, too, now believed in my infallibility, so
we set the deadline for these accomplishments less than a
year away,
The strain that is faced by two characters in the two story
resulting different effects, positive effect for Paul in The Rocking
Horse Winner but negative effect for Doodle in The Scarlet Ibis. By
the strain faced by them, Paul became an independent boy but
Doodle still became a dependent boy.
4. A Shortcut to obtain love and Pride
In The Rocking Horse Winner, Paul work hard to get love
from his mother. He tried hard to get much money through betting
in the rocking horse race with a purpose to get love from his
mother. but actually he can not get love from his mother because
his mother was too voracious of money and was always lacking of
money even though Paul always give her money once and she
wanted to have it all at once.
Although they lived in style, they felt always an anxiety in the
house. There was never enough money. The mother had a
small income, and the father had a small income, but not
nearly enough for the social position which they had to keep
up.
what are you going to do with your money?" asked the uncle.
"Of course," said the boy. "I started it for mother. She said
she had no luck, because Father is unlucky
Paul, at the other's suggestion, handed over five thousand
pounds to his uncle, who deposited it with the family lawyer,
who was then to inform Paul's mother that a relative had put
five thousand pounds into his hands, which sum was to be paid
out a thousand pounds at a time, on the mother's birthday, for
the next five years.
"So she'll have a birthday present of a thousand pounds for five
successive years," said Uncle Oscar. "I hope it won't make it all
the harder for her later."
Paul's mother had her birthday in November. The house had
been "whispering" worse than ever lately, and, even in spite of
his luck, Paul could not bear up against it. He was very anxious
to see the effect of the birthday letter, telling his mother about
the thousand pounds.
And in The Scarlet Ibis, doodle’s brother hard tried to teach
doodle in order to make him capable to live like any other children.
But actually doodle’s brother do it for herself because he feel
ashamed to have brother like doodle and he felt that with having a
crippled brother like doodle will burden for him. So he teach doodle
many thing like walking, swimming, fighting and climbing in a short
time without the instruction of doctor and the good treatment.
Brother did all the efforts to get pride. He wanted every one proud
of him in making Doodle able to walk and doing any activity that
other normal kids can do.
When Doodle was five years old, I was embarrassed at having
a brother of that age who couldn’t walk, so I set out to teach
him.
Once I had succeeded in teaching Doodle to walk, I began to
believe in my own infallibility and I prepared a terrific
development program for him, unknown to Mama and Daddy, of
course. I would teach him to run, to swim, to climb trees, and to
fight. He, too, now believed in my infallibility, so we set the
deadline for these accomplishments less than a year away,
when, it had been decided, Doodle could start to school.
That winter we didn’t make much progress, for I was in school
and Doodle suffered from one bad cold after another. But when
spring came, rich and warm, we raised our sights again.
The short cut to obtain love and care has different way in
both stories. In the rocking horse winner, short cut that Paul
chooses is betting through doing the rocking horse winner to get his
mother’s love. In other side, the short cut Doodle’s brother took in
getting pride is training his Brother in a every short time ignoring
doctor’s instruction. However, both short cut did not succeeded in
achieving their goals. Paul was suffer from the need of wanting his
mother’s love and also finally Doodle’s brother has to accept the
death of his brother because of his way in mistreating his own
brother who is crippled.
CHAPTER IV
CONCLUSION
A. CONCLUSION
In conclusion, the short stories The Rocking Horse Winner and The Scarlet Ibis
have four similarities and four differences. D.H. Lawrence and James Hurst use the
same ways to deliver the themes. They use indirect ways to convey the themes or it can
be said that the themes are implied. There are no statements that directly say the
themes in either story. Therefore, the reader should read and understand the whole
story to get the themes.
Furthermore, the first similarity about the theme itself is “Unending Dissatisfaction
Leads Disharmonious Family”. They force the person they love to fulfill their desire. Their
unending dissatisfaction hurt their family member. Even more, it caused them died in
very early age. The second similar theme is “Killed by Love”. In The Rocking Horse
Winner and The Scarlet Ibis, high ambition bring little grateful of the small result and lead
to get the risk of loosing everything because of the dissatisfaction of Paul’s mother in
The Rocking Horse Winner and of Doodle’s brother in The Scarlet Ibis. Both characters
in each story lost person they love. Their high ambition brings death to them. The third
similarity is “Mistreating Children”. In both stories, Paul’s mother and Doodle’s brother
are the older person in the family relationship. However they did not treat kids like Paul
and Doodle wisely. The last similarity of both short stories ”Too Much Pride Can kill”. In
both stories, too much having pride could bring damage even more it could bring death.
However both stories also have the difference. It is about the value of something.
In the story The Rocking Horse Winner, the theme is about “Seed of Destruction in
Family Relationship”. The seed of destruction in The Rocking Horse Winner is money
and it is pride in The Scarlet Ibis. Money is the cause for Paul’s mother to lose his son
and pride is the reason for brother to lose his brother
The second differences of both short stories are “Living beyond Limit”. Paul and
Doodle are forced different way. Paul feels financially responsible and force him self to
find much money, but Doodle was forced by his brother to do cruel activities beyond his
means. The third differences is “Strains effect different way” The strain that is faced by
them, Paul became an independent boy but Doodle still became a dependent boy.
Another lesson in The Rocking Horse Winner and The Scarlet Ibis is “A Shortcut to
obtain love and care". The short cut to obtain love and care has different way in both
stories. Both short cuts did not succeed in achieving their goals.
All the explanations above show that the author of both stories is trying to give
moral lessons to the people using their stories. They support the idea previously written
in the theoretical background that the writer ideas could be vehicle to give lessons
through their works.
Hopefully, the readers can get lessons from both stories. As the people can see,
there are many lessons that people could get. In a relationship of a family; parents give
sufficient compassion to their children and parents should be a role model for their
children because they need it in their lives so that the harmonious family could be
created.
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The Rocking-Horse Winner
By D. H. Lawrence
There was a woman who was beautiful, who started with all the advantages, yet
she had no luck. She married for love, and the love turned to dust. She had bonny
children, yet she felt they had been thrust upon her, and she could not love them.
They looked at her coldly, as if they were finding fault with her. And hurriedly she
felt she must cover up some fault in herself. Yet what it was that she must cover up
she never knew. Nevertheless, when her children were present, she always felt the
center of her heart go hard. This troubled her, and in her manner she was all the
more gentle and anxious for her children, as if she loved them very much. Only she
herself knew that at the center of her heart was a hard little place that could not feel
love, no, not for anybody. Everybody else said of her: "She is such a good mother.
She adores her children." Only she herself, and her children themselves, knew it
was not so. They read it in each other's eyes.
There were a boy and two little girls. They lived in a pleasant house, with a garden,
and they had discreet servants, and felt themselves superior to anyone in the
neighborhood.
Although they lived in style, they felt always an anxiety in the house. There was
never enough money. The mother had a small income, and the father had a small
income, but not nearly enough for the social position which they had to keep up.
The father went into town to some office. But though he had good prospects, these
prospects never materialized. There was always the grinding sense of the shortage
of money, though the style was always kept up.
At last the mother said: "I will see if I can't make something." But she did not know
where to begin. She racked her brains, and tried this thing and the other, but could
not find anything successful. The failure made deep lines come into her face. Her
children were growing up, they would have to go to school. There must be more
money, there must be more money. The father, who was always very handsome
and expensive in his tastes, seemed as if he never would be able to do anything
worth doing. And the mother, who had a great belief in herself, did not succeed any
better, and her tastes were just as expensive.
And so the house came to be haunted by the unspoken phrase: There must be
more money! There must be more money! The children could hear it all the time
though nobody said it aloud. They heard it at Christmas, when the expensive and
splendid toys filled the nursery. Behind the shining modern rocking-horse, behind
the smart doll's house, a voice would start whispering: "There must be more money!
There must be more money!" And the children would stop playing, to listen for a
moment. They would look into each other's eyes, to see if they had all heard. And
each one saw in the eyes of the other two that they too had heard. "There must be
more money! There must be more money!"
It came whispering from the springs of the still-swaying rocking-horse, and even the
horse, bending his wooden, champing head, heard it. The big doll, sitting so pink
and smirking in her new pram, could hear it quite plainly, and seemed to be
smirking all the more self-consciously because of it. The foolish puppy, too, that
took the place of the teddy-bear, he was looking so extraordinarily foolish for no
other reason but that he heard the secret whisper all over the house: "There must
be more money!"
Yet nobody ever said it aloud. The whisper was everywhere, and therefore no one
spoke it. Just as no one ever says: "We are breathing!" in spite of the fact that
breath is coming and going all the time.
"Mother," said the boy Paul one day, "why don't we keep a car of our own? Why do
we always use uncle's, or else a taxi?"
"Because we're the poor members of the family," said the mother.
"But why are we, mother?"
"Well—I suppose," she said slowly and bitterly, "it's because your father has no
luck."
The boy was silent for some time.
"Is luck money, mother?" he asked, rather timidly.
"No, Paul. Not quite. It's what causes you to have money."
"Oh!" said Paul vaguely. "I thought when Uncle Oscar said filthy lucker, it meant
money."
"Filthy lucre does mean money," said the mother. "But it's lucre, not luck."
"Oh!" said the boy. "Then what is luck, mother?"
"It's what causes you to have money. If you're lucky you have money. That's why
it's better to be born lucky than rich. If you're rich, you may lose your money. But if
you're lucky, you will always get more money."
"Oh! Will you? And is father not lucky?"
"Very unlucky, I should say," she said bitterly.
The boy watched her with unsure eyes.
"Why?" he asked. "I don't know. Nobody ever knows why one person is lucky and
another unlucky."
"Don't they? Nobody at all? Does nobody know?"
"Perhaps God. But He never tells."
"He ought to, then. And aren't you lucky either, mother?"
"I can't be, if I married an unlucky husband."
"But by yourself, aren't you?"
"I used to think I was, before I married. Now I think I am very unlucky indeed."
"Why?"
"Well—never mind! Perhaps I'm not really," she said.
The child looked at her to see if she meant it. But he saw, by the lines of her mouth,
that she was only trying to hide something from him.
"Well, anyhow," he said stoutly, "I'm a lucky person."
"Why?" said his mother, with a sudden laugh.
He stared at her. He didn't even know why he had said it.
"God told me," he asserted, brazening it out.
"I hope He did, dear!", she said, again with a laugh, but rather bitter.
"He did, mother!"
"Excellent!" said the mother.
The boy saw she did not believe him; or rather, that she paid no attention to his
assertion. This angered him somewhat, and made him want to compel her
attention.
He went off by himself, vaguely, in a childish way, seeking for the clue to "luck."
Absorbed, taking no heed of other people, he went about with a sort of stealth,
seeking inwardly for luck. He wanted luck, he wanted it, he wanted it. When the two
girls were playing dolls in the nursery, he would sit on his big rocking-horse,
charging madly into space, with a frenzy that made the little girls peer at him
uneasily. Wildly the horse careered, the waving dark hair of the boy tossed, his
eyes had a strange glare in them. The little girls dared not speak to him.
When he had ridden to the end of his mad little journey, he climbed down and stood
in front of his rocking-horse, staring fixedly into its lowered face. Its red mouth was
slightly open, its big eye was wide and glassy-bright.
Now! he would silently command the snorting steed. Now take me to where there is
luck! Now take me!
And he would slash the horse on the neck with the little whip he had asked Uncle
Oscar for. He knew the horse could take him to where there was luck, if only he
forced it. So he would mount again and start on his furious ride, hoping at last to get
there.
"You'll break your horse, Paul!" said the nurse.
"He's always riding like that! I wish he'd leave off!" said his elder sister Joan.
But he only glared down on them in silence. Nurse gave him up. She could make
nothing of him. Anyhow, he was growing beyond her.
One day his mother and his Uncle Oscar came in when he was on one of his
furious rides. He did not speak to them.
"Hallo, you young jockey! Riding a winner?" said his uncle.
"Aren't you growing too big for a rocking-horse? You're not a very little boy any
longer, you know," said his mother.
But Paul only gave a blue glare from his big, rather close-set eyes. He would speak
to nobody when he was in full tilt. His mother watched him with an anxious
expression on her face.
At last he suddenly stopped forcing his horse into the mechanical gallop and slid
down.
"Well, I got there!" he announced fiercely, his blue eyes still flaring, and his sturdy
long legs straddling apart.
"Where did you get to?" asked his mother.
"Where I wanted to go," he flared back at her.
"That's right, son!" said Uncle Oscar. "Don't you stop till you get there. What's the
horse's name?"
"He doesn't have a name," said the boy.
"Gets on without all right?" asked the uncle.
"Well, he has different names. He was called Sansovino last week."
"Sansovino, eh? Won the Ascot. How did you know his name?"
"He always talks about horse races with Bassett," said Joan.
The uncle was delighted to find that his small nephew was posted with all the racing
news. Bassett, the young gardener, who had been wounded in the left foot in the
war and had got his present job through Oscar Cresswell, whose batman he had
been, was a perfect blade of the "turf." He lived in the racing events, and the small
boy lived with him.
Oscar Cresswell got it all from Bassett.
"Master Paul comes and asks me, so I can't do more than tell him, sir," said
Bassett, his face terribly serious, as if he were speaking of religious matters.
"And does he ever put anything on a horse he fancies?"
"Well—I don't want to give him away—he's a young sport, a fine sport, sir. Would
you mind asking him himself? He sort of takes a pleasure in it, and perhaps he'd
feel I was giving him away, sir, if you don't mind.
Bassett was serious as a church.
The uncle went back to his nephew and took him off for a ride in the car.
"Say, Paul, old man, do you ever put anything on a horse?" the uncle asked.
The boy watched the handsome man closely.
"Why, do you think I oughtn't to?" he parried.
"Not a bit of it! I thought perhaps you might give me a tip for the Lincoln."
The car sped on into the country, going down to Uncle Oscar's place in Hampshire.
"Honor bright?" said the nephew. "Honor bright, son!" said the uncle.
"Well, then, Daffodil."
"Daffodil! I doubt it, sonny. What about Mirza?"
"I only know the winner," said the boy. "That's Daffodil."
"Daffodil, eh?"
There was a pause. Daffodil was an obscure horse comparatively.
"Uncle!"
"Yes, son?"
"You won't let it go any further, will you? I promised Bassett."
"Bassett be damned, old man! What's he got to do with it?"
"We're partners. We've been partners from the first. Uncle, he lent me my first five
shillings, which I lost. I promised him, honor bright, it was only between me and
him; only you gave me that ten-shilling note I started winning with, so I thought you
were lucky. You won't let it go any further, will you?"
The boy gazed at his uncle from those big, hot, blue eyes, set rather close together.
The uncle stirred and laughed uneasily.
"Right you are, son! I'll keep your tip private. Daffodil, eh? How much are you
putting on him?"
"All except twenty pounds," said the boy. "I keep that in reserve."
The uncle thought it a good joke.
"You keep twenty pounds in reserve, do you, you young romancer? What are you
betting, then?"
"I'm betting three hundred," said the boy gravely. "But it's between you and me,
Uncle Oscar! Honor bright?"
The uncle burst into a roar of laughter.
"It's between you and me all right, you young Nat Gould," he said, laughing. "But
where's your three hundred?"
"Bassett keeps it for me. We're partners."
"You are, are you! And what is Bassett putting on Daffodil?"
"He won't go quite as high as I do, I expect. Perhaps he'll go a hundred and fifty."
"What, pennies?" laughed the uncle.
"Pounds," said the child, with a surprised look at his uncle. "Bassett keeps a bigger
reserve than I do."
Between wonder and amusement Uncle Oscar was silent. He pursued the matter
no further, but he determined to take his nephew with him to the Lincoln races.
"Now, son," he said, "I'm putting twenty on Mirza, and I'll put five on for you on any
horse you fancy. What's your pick?"
"Daffodil, uncle."
"No, not the fiver on Daffodil!"
"I should if it was my own fiver," said the child.
"Good! Good! Right you are! A fiver for me and a fiver for you on Daffodil."
The child had never been to a race meeting before, and his eyes were blue fire. He
pursed his mouth tight and watched. A Frenchman just in front had put his money
on Lancelot. Wild with excitement, he flayed his arms up and down, yelling
"Lancelot!, Lancelot!" in his French accent.
Daffodil came in first, Lancelot second, Mirza third. The child, flushed and with eyes
blazing, was curiously serene. His uncle brought him four five-pound notes, four to
one.
"What am I to do with these?" he cried, waving them before the boys eyes.
"I suppose we'll talk to Bassett," said the boy. "I expect I have fifteen hundred now;
and twenty in reserve; and this twenty."
His uncle studied him for some moments.
"Look here, son!" he said. "You're not serious about Bassett and that fifteen
hundred, are you?"
"Yes, I am. But it's between you and me, uncle. Honor bright?"
"Honor bright all right, son! But I must talk to Bassett."
"If you'd like to be a partner, uncle, with Bassett and me, we could all be partners.
Only, you'd have to promise, honor bright, uncle, not to let it go beyond us three.
Bassett and I are lucky, and you must be lucky, because it was your ten shillings I
started winning with...."
Uncle Oscar took both Bassett and Paul into Richmond Park for an afternoon, and
there they talked.
"It's like this, you see, sir," Bassett said. "Master Paul would get me talking about
racing events, spinning yarns, you know, sir. And he was always keen on knowing if
I'd made or if I'd lost. It's about a year since, now, that I put five shillings on Blush of
Dawn for him—and we lost. Then the luck turned, with that ten shillings he had from
you: that we put on Singhalese. And since then, it's been pretty steady, all things
considering. What do you say, Master Paul?"
"We're all right when we're sure," said Paul. "It's when we're not quite sure that we
go down."
"Oh, but we're careful then," said Bassett.
"But when are you sure?" Uncle Oscar smiled.
"It's Master Paul, sir," said Bassett in a secret, religious voice. "It's as if he had it
from heaven. Like Daffodil, now, for the Lincoln. That was as sure as eggs."
"Did you put anything on Daffodil?" asked Oscar Cresswell.
"Yes, sir, I made my bit."
"And my nephew?"
Bassett was obstinately silent, looking at Paul.
"I made twelve hundred, didn't I, Bassett? I told uncle I was putting three hundred
on Daffodil."
"That's right," said Bassett, nodding.
"But where's the money?" asked the uncle.
"I keep it safe locked up, sir. Master Paul he can have it any minute he likes to ask
for it."
"What, fifteen hundred pounds?"
"And twenty! And forty, that is, with the twenty he made on the course."
"It's amazing!" said the uncle.
"If Master Paul offers you to be partners, sir, I would, if I were you; if you'll excuse
me," said Bassett.
Oscar Cresswell thought about it.
"I'll see the money," he said.
They drove home again, and sure enough, Bassett came round to the garden
house with fifteen hundred pounds in notes. The twenty pounds reserve was left
with Joe Glee, in the Turf Commission deposit.
"You see, it's all right, uncle, when I'm sure! Then we go strong, for all we're worth,
don't we, Bassett?"
"We do that, Master Paul."
"And when are you sure?" said the uncle, laughing.
"Oh, well, sometimes I'm absolutely sure, like about Daffodil," said the boy; "and
sometimes I have an idea; and sometimes I haven't even an idea, have I, Bassett?
Then we're careful, because we mostly go down."
"You do, do you! And when you're sure, like about Daffodil, what makes you sure,
sonny?"
"Oh, well, I don't know," said the boy uneasily. "I'm sure, you know, uncle; that's all."
"It's as if he had it from heaven, sir," Bassett reiterated.
"I should say so!" said the uncle.
But he became a partner. And when the Leger was coming on, Paul was "sure"
about Lively Spark, which was a quite inconsiderable horse. The boy insisted on
putting a thousand on the horse, Bassett went for five hundred, and Oscar
Cresswell two hundred. Lively Spark came in first, and the betting had been ten to
one against him. Paul had made ten thousand.
"You see," he said. "I was absolutely sure of him."
Even Oscar Cresswell had cleared two thousand.
"Look here, son," he said, "this sort of thing makes me nervous."
"It needn't, uncle! Perhaps I shan't be sure again for a long time."
"But what are you going to do with your money?" asked the uncle. "Of course," said
the boy. "I started it for mother. She said she had no luck, because Father is
unlucky, so I thought if I was lucky, it might stop whispering."
"What might stop whispering?"
"Our house. I hate our house for whispering."
"What does it whisper?"
"Why—why"—the boy fidgeted—"why, I don't know. But it's always short of money,
you know, uncle."
"I know it, son, I know it."
"You know people send Mother writs, don't you, Uncle?"
"I'm afraid I do," said the uncle.
"And then the house whispers, like people laughing at you behind your back. It's
awful, that is! I thought if I was lucky...."
"You might stop it," added the uncle.
The boy watched him with big blue eyes, that had an uncanny cold fire in them, and
he said never a word.
"Well, then!" said the uncle. "What are we doing?"
"I shouldn't like Mother to know I was lucky," said the boy.
"Why not, son?"
"She'd stop me."
"I don't think she would."
"Oh!"—and the boy writhed in an odd way—"I don't want her to know, Uncle."
"All right, son! We'll manage it without her knowing."
They managed it very easily. Paul, at the other's suggestion, handed over five
thousand pounds to his uncle, who deposited it with the family lawyer, who was
then to inform Paul's mother that a relative had put five thousand pounds into his
hands, which sum was to be paid out a thousand pounds at a time, on the mother's
birthday, for the next five years.
"So she'll have a birthday present of a thousand pounds for five successive years,"
said Uncle Oscar. "I hope it won't make it all the harder for her later."
Paul's mother had her birthday in November. The house had been"whispering"
worse than ever lately, and, even in spite of his luck, Paul could not bear up against
it. He was very anxious to see the effect of the birthday letter, telling his mother
about the thousand pounds.
When there were no visitors, Paul now took his meals with his parents, as he was
beyond the nursery control. His mother went into town nearly every day. She had
discovered that she had an odd knack of sketching furs and dress materials, so she
worked secretly in the studio of a friend who was the chief artist for the leading
drapers. She drew the figures of ladies in furs and ladies in silk and sequins for the
newspaper advertisements. This young woman artist earned several thousand
pounds a year, but Paul's mother only made several hundreds, and she was again
dissatisfied. She so wanted to be first in something, and she did not succeed, even
in making sketches for drapery advertisements.
She was down to breakfast on the morning of her birthday. Paul watched her face
as she read her letters. He knew the lawyer's letter. As his mother read it, her face
hardened and became more expressionless. Then a cold, determined look came on
her mouth. She hid the letter under the pile of others, and said not a word about it.
"Didn't you have anything nice in the post for your birthday, mother?" said Paul.
"Quite moderately nice," she said, her voice cold and absent.
She went away to town without saying more.
But in the afternoon Uncle Oscar appeared. He said Paul's mother had had a long
interview with the lawyer, asking if the whole five thousand could not be advanced
at once, as she was in debt.
"What do you think, uncle?" said the boy.
"I leave it to you, son."
"Oh, let her have it, then! We can get some more with the other," said the boy.
"A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, laddie!" said Uncle Oscar.
"But I'm sure to know forthe Grand National; or the Lincolnshire; or else the Derby.
I'm sure to know for one of them," said Paul.
So Uncle Oscar signed the agreement, and Paul's mother touched the whole five
thousand. Then something very curious happened. The voices in the house
suddenly went mad, like a chorus of frogs on a spring evening. There were certain
new furnishings, and Paul had a tutor. He was really going to Eton, his father's
school, in the following autumn. There were flowers in the winter, and a blossoming
of the luxury Paul's mother had been used to. And yet the voices in the house,
behind the sprays of mimosa and almond-blossom, and from under the piles of
iridescent cushions, simply trilled and screamed in a sort of ecstasy: "There must
be more money! Oh-h-h; there must be more money. Oh, now, now-w! Now-w-w—
there must be more money!—more than ever! More than ever!"
It frightened Paul terribly. He studied away at his Latin and Greek. But his intense
hours were spent with Bassett. The Grand National had gone by: he had
not"known," and had lost a hundred pounds. Summer was at hand. He was in
agony for the Lincoln. But even for the Lincoln he didn't "know," and he lost fifty
pounds. He became wild-eyed and strange, as if something were going to explode
in him.
"Let it alone, son! Don't you bother about it!" urged Uncle Oscar. But it was as if the
boy couldn't really hear what his uncle was saying.
"I've got to know for the Derby! I've got to know for the Derby!" the child reiterated,
his big blue eyes blazing with a sort of madness.
His mother noticed how overwrought he was.
"You'd better go to the seaside. Wouldn't you like to go now to the seaside, instead
of waiting? I think you'd better," she said, looking down at him anxiously, her heart
curiously heavy because of him.
But the child lifted his uncanny blue eyes. "I couldn't possibly go before the Derby,
mother!" he said. "I couldn't possibly!"
"Why not?" she said, hervoice becoming heavy when she was opposed. "Why not?
You can still go from the seaside to see the Derby with your Uncle Oscar, if that
that's what you wish. No need for you to wait here. Besides, I think you care too
much about these races. It's a bad sign. My family has been a gambling family, and
you won't know till you grow up how much damage it has done. But it has done
damage. I shall have to send Bassett away, and ask Uncle Oscar not to talk racing
to you, unless you promise to be reasonable about it; go away to the seaside and
forget it. You're all nerves!"
"I'll do what you like, Mother, so long as you don't send me away till after the
Derby," the boy said.
"Send you away from where? Just from this house?"
"Yes," he said, gazing at her.
"Why, you curious child, what makes you care about this house so much,
suddenly? I never knew you loved it."
He gazed at her without speaking. He had a secret within a secret, something he
had not divulged, even to Bassett or to his Uncle Oscar.
But his mother, after standing undecided and a little bit sullen for some moments,
said:
"Very well, then! Don't go to the seaside till after the Derby, if you don't wish it. But
promise me you won't let your nerves go to pieces. Promise you won't think so
much about horse racing and events, as you call them!"
"Oh, no," said the boy casually. "I won't think much about them, Mother. You
needn't worry. I wouldn't worry, Mother, if I were you."
"If you were me and I were you," said his mother, "I wonder what we should do!"
"But you know you needn't worry, Mother, don't you?" the boy repeated.
"I should be awfully glad to know it," she said wearily.
"Oh, well, you can, you know. I mean, you ought to know you needn't worry," he
insisted.
"Ought I? Then I'll see about it," she said.
Paul's secret of secrets was his wooden horse, that which had no name. Since he
was emancipated from a nurse and a nursery governess, he had had his rockinghorse removed to his own bedroom at the top of the house.
"Surely, you're too big for a rocking-horse!" his mother had remonstrated.
"Well, you see, Mother, till I can have a real horse, I like to have some sort of
animal about," had been his quaint answer.
"Do you feel he keeps you company?" She laughed.
"Oh yes! He's very good, he always keeps me company, when I'm there," said Paul.
So the horse, rather shabby, stood in an arrested prance in the boy's bedroom.
The Derby was drawing near, and the boy grew more and more tense. He hardly
heard what was spoken to him, he was very frail, and his eyes were really uncanny.
His mother had sudden strange seizures of uneasiness about him. Sometimes, for
half an hour, she would feel a sudden anxiety about him that was almost anguish.
She wanted to rush to him at once, and know he was safe.
Two nights before the Derby, she was at a big party in town, when one of her
rushes of anxiety about her boy, her firstborn, gripped her heart till she could hardly
speak. She fought with the feeling, might and main, for she believed in common
sense. But it was too strong. She had to leave the dance and go downstairs to
telephone to the country. The children's nursery governess was terribly surprised
and startled at being rung up in the night.
"Are the children all right, Miss Wilmot?"
"Oh yes, they are quite all right."
"Master Paul? Is he all right?"
"He went to bed as right as a trivet. Shall I run up and look at him?"
"No," said Paul's mother reluctantly. "No! Don't trouble. It's all right. Don't sit up. We
shall be home fairly soon." She did not want her son's privacy intruded upon.
"Very good," said the governess.
It was about one o'clock when Paul's mother and father drove up to their house. All
was still. Paul's mother went to her room and slipped off her white fur cloak. She
had told her maid not to wait up for her. She heard her husband downstairs, mixing
a whisky and soda.
And then, because of the strange anxiety at her heart, she stole upstairs to her
son's room. Noiselessly she went along the upper corridor. Was there a faint noise?
What was it?
She stood, with arrested muscles, outside his door, listening. There was a strange,
heavy, and yet not loud noise. Her heart stood still. It was a soundless noise, yet
rushing and powerful. Something huge, in violent, hushed motion. What was it?
What in God's name was it? She ought to know. She felt that she knew the noise.
She knew what it was.
Yet she could not place it. She couldn't say what it was. And on and on it went, like
a madness.
Softly, frozen with anxiety and fear, she turned the door handle.
The room was dark. Yet in the space near the window, she heard and saw
something plunging to and fro. She gazed in fear and amazement.
Then suddenly she switched on the light, and saw her son, in his green pajamas,
madly surging on the rocking-horse. The blaze of light suddenly lit him up, as he
urged the wooden horse, and lit her up, as she stood, blonde, in her dress of pale
green and crystal, in the doorway.
"Paul!" she cried. "Whatever are you doing?"
"It's Malabar!" he screamed in a powerful, strange voice. "It's Malabar!"
His eyes blazed at her for one strange and senseless second, as he ceased urging
his wooden horse. Then he fell with a crash to the ground, and she, all her
tormented motherhood flooding upon her, rushed to gather him up.
But he was unconscious, and unconscious he remained, with some brain fever. He
talked and tossed, and his mother sat stonily by his side.
"Malabar! It's Malabar! Bassett, Bassett, I know! It's Malabar!"
So the child cried, trying to get up and urge the rocking-horse that gave him his
inspiration.
"What does he mean by Malabar?" asked the heart-frozen mother.
"I don't know," said the father stonily.
"What does he mean by Malabar?" she asked her brother Oscar.
"It's one of the horses running for the Derby," was the answer.
And, in spite of himself, Oscar Cresswell spoke to Bassett, and himself put a
thousand on Malabar: at fourteen to one.
The third day of the illness was critical: they were waiting for a change. The boy,
with his rather long, curly hair, was tossing ceaselessly on the pillow. He neither
slept nor regained consciousness, and his eyes were like blue stones. His mother
sat, feeling her heart had gone, turned actually into a stone.
In the evening Oscar Cresswell did not come, but Bassett sent a message, saying
could he come up for one moment, just one moment? Paul's mother was very angry
at the intrusion, but on second thoughts she agreed. The boy was the same.
Perhaps Bassett might bring him to consciousness.
The gardener, a shortish fellow with a little brown moustache and sharp little brown
eyes, tiptoed into the room, touched his imaginary cap to Paul's mother, and stole
to the bedside, staring with glittering, smallish eyes at the tossing, dying child.
"Master Paul!" he whispered. "Master Paul! Malabar came in first all right, a clean
win. I did as you told me. You've made over seventy thousand pounds, you have;
you've got over eighty thousand. Malabar came in all right, Master Paul."
"Malabar! Malabar! Did I say Malabar, Mother? Did I say Malabar? Do you think I'm
lucky, Mother? I knew Malabar, didn't I? Over eighty thousand pounds! I call that
lucky, don't you, Mother? Over eighty thousand pounds! I knew, didn't I know I
knew? Malabar came in all right. If I ride my horse till I'm sure, then I tell you,
Bassett, you can go as high as you like. Did you go for all you were worth,
Bassett?"
"I went a thousand on it, Master Paul."
"I never told you, Mother, that if I can ride my horse, and get there, then I'm
absolutely sure—oh, absolutely! Mother, did I ever tell you? I am lucky!"
"No, you never did," said the mother.
But the boy died in the night.
And even as he lay dead, his mother heard her brother's voice saying to her: "My
God, Hester, you're eighty-odd thousand to the good, and a poor devil of a son to
the bad. But, poor devil, poor devil, he's best gone out of a life where he rides his
rocking-horse to find a winner."
THE SCARLET IBIS
By James Hurst
It was in the clove of seasons, summer was dead but autumn had not yet been
born, that the ibis lit in the bleeding tree. The flower garden was stained with rotting
brown magnolia petals, and ironweeds grew rank amid the purple phlox. The five
o’clock by the chimney still marked time, but the oriole nest in the elm was
untenanted and rocked back and forth like an empty cradle. The last graveyard
flowers were blooming, and their smell drifted across the cotton field and through
every room of our house, speaking softly the names of our dead.
It’s strange that all this is still so clear to me, now that that summer has long since
fled and time has had its way. A grindstone stands where the bleeding tree stood,
just outside the kitchen door, and now if an oriole sings in the elm, its song seems
to die up in the leaves, a silvery dust. The flower garden is prim, the house a
gleaming white, and the pale fence across the yard stands straight and spruce. But
sometimes (like right now), as I sit in the cool, green-draped parlor, the grindstone
begins to turn, and time with all its changes is ground away—and I remember
Doodle.
Doodle was just about the craziest brother a boy ever had.
Of course, he wasn’t a crazy crazy like old Miss Leedie, who was in love with
President Wilson and wrote him a letter every day, but was a nice crazy, like
someone you meet in your dreams. He was born when I was six and was, from the
outset, a disappointment.
He seemed all head, with a tiny body which was red and shriveled like an old
man’s. Everybody thought he was going to die—everybody except Aunt Nicey, who
had delivered him. She said he would live because he was born in a caul and cauls
were made from Jesus’ nightgown. Daddy had Mr. Heath, the carpenter, build a
little mahogany coffin for him. But he didn’t die, and when he was three months old,
Mama and Daddy decided they might as well name him. They named him William
Armstrong, which was like tying a big tail on a small kite. Such a name sounds good
only on a tombstone.
I thought myself pretty smart at many things, like holding my breath, running,
jumping, or climbing the vines in Old Woman Swamp, and I wanted more than
anything else someone to race to Horsehead Landing, someone to box with, and
someone to perch with in the top fork of the great pine behind the barn, where
across the fields and swamps you could see the sea.
I wanted a brother. But Mama, crying, told me that even if
William Armstrong lived, he would never do these things with me. He might not, she
sobbed, even be "all there." He might, as long as he lived, lie on the rubber sheet in
the center of the bed in the front bedroom where the white marquisette curtains
billowed out in the afternoon sea breeze, rustling like palmetto fronds.
It was bad enough having an invalid brother, but having one who possibly was not
all there was unbearable, so I began to make plans to kill him by smothering him
with a pillow.
However, one afternoon as I watched him, my head poked between the iron posts
of the foot of the bed, he looked straight at me and grinned. I skipped through the
rooms, down the echoing halls, shouting, "Mama, he smiled. He’s all there! He’s all
there!" and he was.
When he was two, if you laid him on his stomach, he began to try to move himself,
straining terribly. The doctor said that with his weak heart this strain would probably
kill him, but it didn’t.
Trembling, he’d push himself up, turning first red, then a soft purple, and finally
collapse back onto the bed like an old wornout doll. I can still see Mama watching
him, her hand pressed tight across her mouth, her eyes wide and unblinking. But he
learned to crawl (it was his third winter), and we brought him out of the front
bedroom, putting him on the rug before the
fireplace. For the first time he became one of us.
As long as he lay all the time in bed, we called him William Armstrong, even though
it was formal and sounded as if we were referring to one of our ancestors, but with
his creeping around on the deerskin rug and beginning to talk, something had to be
done about his name. It was I who renamed him.
When he crawled, he crawled backward, as if he were in reverse and couldn’t
change gears. If you called him, he’d turn around as if he were going in the other
direction, then he’d back right up to you to be picked up. Crawling back ward made
him look like a doodlebug so I began to call him Doodle, and in time even Mama
and Daddy thought it was a better name than William Armstrong. Only Aunt Nicey
disagreed. She said caul babies should be treated with special respect since they
might turn out to be saints. Renaming my brother was perhaps the kindest thing I
ever did for him, because nobody expects much from someone called Doodle.
Although Doodle learned to crawl, he showed no signs of walking, but he wasn’t
idle. He talked so much that we all quit listening to what he said. It was about this
time that Daddy built him a go-cart, and I had to pull him around. At first I just
paraded him up and down the piazza, but then he started crying to be taken out into
the yard and it ended up by my having to lug him wherever I went. If I so much as
picked up my cap, he’d start crying to go with me, and Mama would call from
wherever she was, "Take Doodle with you."
He was a burden in many ways. The doctor had said that he mustn’t get too
excited, too hot, too cold, or too tired and that he must always be treated gently. A
long list of don’ts went with him, all of which I ignored once we got out of the house.
To discourage his coming with me, I’d run with him across the ends of the cotton
rows and careen him around corners on two wheels.
Sometimes I accidentally turned him over, but he never told Mama. His skin was
very sensitive, and he had to wear a big straw hat whenever he went out. When the
going got rough and he had to cling to the sides of the go-cart, the hat slipped all
the way down over his ears. He was a sight. Finally, I could see I was licked.
Doodle was my brother, and he was going to cling to me forever, no matter what I
did, so I dragged him across the burning cotton field to share with him the only
beauty I knew, Old Woman Swamp. I pulled the go-cart through the saw tooth fern,
down into the green dimness where the palmetto fronds whispered by the stream. I
lifted him out and set him down in the soft rubber grass beside a tall pine. His eyes
were round with wonder as he gazed about him, and his little hands began to stroke
the rubber grass. Then he began to cry.
"For heaven’s sake, what’s the matter?" I asked, annoyed.
"It’s so pretty," he said. "So pretty, pretty, pretty."
After that day Doodle and I often went down into Old Woman Swamp. I would
gather wildflowers, wild violets, honeysuckle, yellow jasmine, snake flowers, and
water lilies, and with wire grass we’d weave them into necklaces and crowns.
We’d bedeck ourselves with our handiwork and loll about thus beautified, beyond
the touch of the everyday world. Then when the slanted rays of the sun burned
orange in the tops of the pines, we’d drop our jewels into the stream and watch
them float away toward the sea.
There is within me (and with sadness I have watched it in others) a knot of cruelty
borne by the stream of love, much as our blood sometimes bears the seed of our
destruction, and at times I was mean to Doodle. One day I took him up to the barn
loft and showed him his casket, telling him how we all had believed he would die. It
was covered with a film of Paris green sprinkled to kill the rats, and screech owls
had built a nest inside it.
Doodle studied the mahogany box for a long time, then said, "It’s not mine."
"It is," I said. "And before I’ll help you down from the loft, you’re going to have to
touch it."
"I won’t touch it," he said sullenly.
"Then I’ll leave you here by yourself," I threatened, and made as if I were going
down. Doodle was frightened of being left. "Don’t go leave me,
Brother," he cried, and he leaned toward the coffin. His hand, trembling, reached
out, and when he touched the casket, he screamed. A screech owl flapped out of
the box into our faces, scaring us and covering us with Paris green. Doodle was
paralyzed, so I put him on my shoulder and carried him down the ladder, and even
when we were outside in the bright sunshine, he clung to me, crying, "Don’t leave
me. Don’t leave me."
When Doodle was five years old, I was embarrassed at having a brother of that age
who couldn’t walk, so I set out to teach him.
We were down in Old Woman Swamp and it was spring and the sick-sweet smell of
bay flowers hung everywhere like a mournful song. "I’m going to teach you to walk,
Doodle," I said. He was sitting comfortably on the soft grass, leaning back against
the pine. "Why?" he asked.
I hadn’t expected such an answer. "So I won’t have to haul
you around all the time."
"I can’t walk, Brother," he said.
"Who says so?" I demanded.
"Mama, the doctor—everybody."
"Oh, you can walk," I said, and I took him by the arms and stood him up. He
collapsed onto the grass like a half-empty flour sack. It was as if he had no bones in
his little legs.
"Don’t hurt me, Brother," he warned.
"Shut up. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to teach you to walk." I heaved him up
again, and again he collapsed. This time he did not lift his face up out of the rubber
grass.
"I just can’t do it. Let’s make honeysuckle wreaths."
"Oh yes you can, Doodle," I said. "All you got to do is try.
Now come on," and I hauled him up once more.
It seemed so hopeless from the beginning that it’s a miracle
I didn’t give up. But all of us must have something or someone to be proud of, and
Doodle had become mine. I did not know then that pride is a wonderful, terrible
thing, a seed that bears two vines, life and death. Every day that summer we went
to the pine beside the stream of Old Woman Swamp, and I put him on his feet at
least a hundred times each afternoon. Occasionally I too became discouraged
because it didn’t seem as if he was trying, and I would say, "Doodle, don’t you want
to learn to walk?"
He’d nod his head, and I’d say, "Well, if you don’t keep trying, you’ll never learn."
Then I’d paint for him a picture of us as old men, white-haired, him with a long white
beard and me still pulling him around in the go-cart. This never failed to make him
try again.
Finally, one day, after many weeks of practicing, he stood alone for a few seconds.
When he fell, I grabbed him in my arms and hugged him, our laughter pealing
through the swamp like a ringing bell. Now we knew it could be done. Hope no
longer hid in the dark palmetto thicket but perched like a cardinal in the lacy
toothbrush tree, brilliantly visible. "Yes, yes," I cried, and he cried it too, and the
grass beneath us was soft and the smell of
the swamp was sweet.
With success so imminent, we decided not to tell anyone until he could actually
walk. Each day, barring rain, we sneaked into Old Woman Swamp, and by cottonpicking time Doodle was ready to show what he could do. He still wasn’t able to
walk far, but we could wait no longer. Keeping a nice secret is very hard to do, like
holding your breath. We chose to reveal all on October eighth, Doodle’s sixth
birthday, and for weeks ahead we mooned around the house, promising everybody
a most spectacular surprise. Aunt Nicey said that, after so much talk, if we
produced anything less tremendous than the Resurrection, she was going to be
disappointed. At breakfast on our chosen day, when Mama, Daddy, and Aunt Nicey
were in the dining room, I brought Doodle to the door in the go-cart just as usual
and had them turn their backs, making them cross their hearts and hope to die if
they peeked. I helped Doodle up, and when he was standing alone I let them look.
There wasn’t a sound as Doodle walked slowly across the room and sat down at his
place at the table. Then Mama began to cry and ran over to him, hugging him and
kissing him. Daddy hugged him too, so I went to Aunt Nicey, who was thankspraying in the doorway, and began to waltz her around. We danced together quite
well until she came down on my big toe with her brogans, hurting me so badly I
thought I was crippled for life.
Doodle told them it was I who had taught him to walk, so everyone wanted to hug
me, and I began to cry.
"What are you crying for?" asked Daddy, but I couldn’t answer. They did not know
that I did it for myself; that pride, whose slave I was, spoke to me louder than all
their voices; and that Doodle walked only because I was ashamed of having a
crippled brother.
Within a few months Doodle had learned to walk well and his go-cart was put up in
the barn loft (it’s still there) beside his little mahogany coffin. Now, when we roamed
off together, resting often, we never turned back until our destination had been
reached, and to help pass the time, we took up lying. From the beginning Doodle
was a terrible liar, and he got me in the habit.
Had anyone stopped to listen to us, we would have been sent off
to Dix Hill.
My lies were scary, involved, and usually pointless, but Doodle’s were twice as
crazy. People in his stories all had wings and flew wherever they wanted to go. His
favorite lie was about a boy named Peter who had a pet peacock with a ten-foot tail.
Peter wore a golden robe that glittered so brightly that when he walked through the
sunflowers they turned away from the sun to face him. When Peter was ready to go
to sleep, the peacock spread his magnificent tail, enfolding the boy gently like a
closing go-to-sleep flower, burying him in the gloriously iridescent, rustling vortex.
Yes, I must admit it. Doodle could beat me lying.
Doodle and I spent lots of time thinking about our future.
We decided that when we were grown, we’d live in Old Woman
Swamp and pick dog’s-tongue for a living. Beside the stream, he planned; we’d
build us a house of whispering leaves and the swamp birds would be our chickens.
All day long (when we weren’t gathering dog’s-tongue) we’d swing through the
cypresses on the rope vines, and if it rained we’d huddle beneath an umbrella tree
and play stick frog. Mama and Daddy could come and live with us if they wanted to.
He even came up with he idea that he could marry Mama and I could marry Daddy.
Of course, I was old enough to know this wouldn’t work out, but the picture he
painted was so beautiful and serene that all I could do was whisper yes, yes.
Once I had succeeded in teaching Doodle to walk, I began to believe in my own
infallibility and I prepared a terrific development program for him, unknown to Mama
and Daddy, of course. I would teach him to run, to swim, to climb trees, and to fight.
He, too, now believed in my infallibility, so we set the deadline for these
accomplishments less than a year away, when, it had been decided, Doodle could
start to school.
That winter we didn’t make much progress, for I was in school and Doodle suffered
from one bad cold after another. But when spring came, rich and warm, we raised
our sights again.
Success lay at the end of summer like a pot of gold, and our campaign got off to a
good start. On hot days, Doodle and I went down to Horse head Landing, and I
gave him swimming lessons or showed him how to row a boat. Sometimes we
descended into the cool greenness of Old Woman Swamp and climbed the rope
vines or boxed scientifically beneath the pine where he had learned to walk.
Promise hung about us like leaves, and wherever we looked, ferns unfurled and
birds broke into song.
That summer, the summer of 1918, was blighted. In May and June there was no
rain and the crops withered, curled up, then died under the thirsty sun. One morning
in July a hurricane came out of the east, tipping over the oaks in the yard and
splitting the limbs of the elm trees. That afternoon it roared back out of the west,
blew the fallen oaks around, snapping their roots and tearing them out of the earth
like a hawk at the entrails of a chicken. Cotton bolls were wrenched from the stalks
and lay like green walnuts in the valleys between the rows, while the cornfield
leaned over uniformly so that the tassels touched the ground. Doodle and I followed
Daddy out into the cotton field, where he stood, shoulders sagging, surveying the
ruin. When his chin sank down onto his chest, we were frightened, and Doodle
slipped his hand into mine. Suddenly Daddy straightened his shoulders, raised a
giant knuckle fist, and with a voice that seemed to rumble out of the earth itself
began cursing heaven, hell, the weather, and the Republican party. Doodle and I,
prodding each other and giggling went back to the house, knowing that everything
would be all right.
And during that summer, strange names were heard through the house: ChâteauThierry, Amiens, Soissons, and in her blessing at the supper table, Mama once
said, "And bless the Parsons, whose boy Joe was lost in Belleau Wood."
So we came to that clove of seasons. School was only a few weeks away, and
Doodle was far behind schedule. He could barely clear the ground when climbing
up the rope vines, and his swimming was certainly not passable. We decided to
double our efforts, to make that last drive and reach our pot of gold. I made him
swim until he turned blue and row until he couldn’t lift an oar. Wherever we went, I
purposely walked fast, and although he kept up, his face turned red and his eyes
became glazed. Once, he could go no further, so he collapsed on the ground and
began to cry.
"Aw, come on, Doodle," I urged. "You can do it. Do you want to be different from
everybody else when you start school?"
"Does it make any difference?"
"It certainly does," I said. "Now, come on," and I helped him up.
As we slipped through the dog days, Doodle began to look feverish, and Mama felt
his forehead, asking him if he felt ill. At night he didn’t sleep well, and sometimes he
had nightmares, crying out until I touched him and said, "Wake up, Doodle. Wake
up."
It was Saturday noon, just a few days before school was to start. I should have
already admitted defeat, but my pride wouldn’t let me. The excitement of our
program had now been gone for weeks, but still we kept on with a tired
doggedness. It was too late to turn back, for we had both wandered too far into a
net of expectations and had left no crumbs behind.
Daddy, Mama, Doodle, and I were seated at the dining room table having lunch. It
was a hot day, with all the windows and doors open in case a breeze should come.
In the kitchen Aunt Nicey was humming softly. After a long silence, Daddy spoke.
"It’s so calm, I wouldn’t be surprised if we had a storm this afternoon."
"I haven’t heard a rain frog," said Mama, who believed in signs, as she served the
bread around the table.
"I did," declared Doodle. "Down in the swamp."
"He didn’t," I said contrarily.
"You did, eh?" said Daddy, ignoring my denial.
"I certainly did," Doodle reiterated, scowling at me over the top of his iced-tea glass,
and we were quiet again.
Suddenly, from out in the yard came a strange croaking noise. Doodle stopped
eating, with a piece of bread poised ready for his mouth, his eyes popped round like
two blue buttons.
"What’s that?" he whispered.
I jumped up, knocking over my chair, and had reached the door when Mama called,
"Pick up the chair, sit down again, and say excuse me."
By the time I had done this, Doodle had excused himself and had slipped out into
the yard. He was looking up into the bleeding tree. "It’s a great big red bird!" he
called.
The bird croaked loudly again, and Mama and Daddy came out into the yard. We
shaded our eyes with our hands against the hazy glare of the sun and peered up
through the still leaves. On the topmost branch a bird the size of a chicken, with
scarlet feathers and long legs, was perched precariously. Its wings hung down
loosely, and as we watched, a feather dropped away and floated slowly down
through the green leaves.
"It’s not even frightened of us," Mama said.
"It looks tired," Daddy added. "Or maybe sick."
Doodle’s hands were clasped at his throat, and I had never seen him stand still so
long. "What is it?" he asked.
Daddy shook his head. "I don’t know, maybe it’s—"
At that moment the bird began to flutter, but the wings were uncoordinated, and
amid much flapping and a spray of flying feathers, it tumbled down, bumping
through the limbs of the bleeding tree and landing at our feet with a thud. Its long,
graceful neck jerked twice into an S, then straightened out, and the bird was still. A
white veil came over the eyes, and the long white beak unhinged. Its legs were
crossed and its claw like feet were delicately curved at rest. Even death did not mar
its grace, for it lay on the earth like a broken vase of red flowers, and we stood
around it, awed by its exotic beauty.
"It’s dead," Mama said.
"What is it?" Doodle repeated.
"Go bring me the bird book," said Daddy.
I ran into the house and brought back the bird book. As we watched, Daddy
thumbed through its pages. "It’s a scarlet ibis," he said, pointing to a picture. "It lives
in the tropics—South America to Florida. A storm must have brought it here."
Sadly, we all looked back at the bird. A scarlet ibis! How many miles it had traveled
to die like this, in our yard, beneath the bleeding tree.
"Let’s finish lunch," Mama said, nudging us back toward the dining room.
"I’m not hungry," said Doodle, and he knelt down beside the ibis.
"We’ve got peach cobbler for dessert," Mama tempted from the doorway.
Doodle remained kneeling. "I’m going to bury him."
"Don’t you dare touch him," Mama warned. "There’s no telling what disease he
might have had."
"All right," said Doodle. "I won’t."
Daddy, Mama, and I went back to the dining-room table, but we watched Doodle
through the open door. He took out a piece of string from his pocket and, without
touching the ibis, looped one end around its neck. Slowly, while singing softly
"Shall We Gather at the River," he carried the bird around to the front yard and dug
a hole in the flower garden, next to the petunia bed. Now we were watching him
through the front window, but he didn’t know it. His awkwardness at digging the
hole with a shovel whose handle was twice as long as he was made us laugh, and
we covered our mouths with our hands so he wouldn’t hear.
When Doodle came into the dining room, he found us seriously eating our cobbler.
He was pale and lingered just inside the screen door. "Did you get the scarlet ibis
buried?" asked Daddy.
Doodle didn’t speak but nodded his head.
"Go wash your hands, and then you can have some peach cobbler," said Mama.
"I’m not hungry," he said.
"Dead birds is bad luck," said Aunt Nicey, poking her head from the kitchen door.
"Specially red dead birds!"
As soon as I had finished eating, Doodle and I hurried off to Horse head Landing.
Time was short, and Doodle still had a long way to go if he was going to keep up
with the other boys when he started school. The sun, gilded with the yellow cast of
autumn, still burned fiercely, but the dark green woods through which we passed
were shady and cool. When we reached the landing, Doodle said he was too tired
to swim, so we got into a skiff and floated down the creek with the tide. Far off in the
marsh a rail was scolding, and over on the beach locusts were singing in the myrtle
trees. Doodle did not speak and kept his head turned away, letting one hand trail
limply in the water.
After we had drifted a long way, I put the oars in place and made Doodle row back
against the tide. Black clouds began to gather in the southwest, and he kept
watching them, trying to pull the oars a little faster. When we reached Horse head
Landing, lightning was playing across half the sky and thunder roared out, hiding
even the sound of the sea. The sun disappeared and darkness descended, almost
like night. Flocks of marsh crows flew by, heading inland to their roosting trees, and
two egrets, squawking, arose from the oyster-rock shallows and careened away.
Doodle was both tired and frightened, and when he stepped from the skiff he
collapsed onto the mud, sending an armada of fiddler crabs rustling off into the
marsh grass. I helped him up, and as he wiped the mud off his trousers, he smiled
at me ashamedly. He had failed and we both knew it, so we started back home,
racing the storm. We never spoke (what are the words that can solder cracked
pride?), but I knew he was watching me, watching for a sign of mercy. The lightning
was near now, and from fear he walked so close behind me he kept stepping on my
heels. The faster I walked, the faster he walked, so I began to run. The rain was
coming, roaring through the pines, and then, like a bursting Roman candle, a gum
tree ahead of us was shattered by a bolt of lightning. When the deafening peal of
thunder had died, and in the moment before the rain arrived, I heard Doodle, who
had fallen behind, cry out,
"Brother, Brother, don’t leave me! Don’t leave me!"
The knowledge that Doodle’s and my plans had come to naught was bitter, and that
streak of cruelty within me awakened.
I ran as fast as I could, leaving him far behind with a wall of rain dividing us. The
drops stung my face like nettles, and the wind flared the wet, glistening leaves of
the bordering trees.
Soon I could hear his voice no more.
I hadn’t run too far before I became tired, and the flood of childish spite evanesced
as well. I stopped and waited for
Doodle. The sound of rain was everywhere, but the wind had died and it fell straight
down in parallel paths like ropes hanging from the sky. As I waited, I peered
through the downpour, but no one came. Finally I went back and found him huddled
beneath a red nightshade bush beside the road. He was sitting on the ground, his
face buried in his arms, which were resting on his drawn-up knees. "Let’s go,
Doodle," I said.
He didn’t answer, so I placed my hand on his forehead and lifted his head. Limply,
he fell backward onto the earth. He had been bleeding from the mouth, and his
neck and the front of his shirt were stained a brilliant red.
"Doodle! Doodle!" I cried, shaking him, but there was no answer but the ropy rain.
He lay very awkwardly, with his head thrown far back, making his vermilion neck
appear unusually long and slim. His little legs, bent sharply at the knees, had never
before seemed so fragile, so thin.
I began to weep, and the tear-blurred vision in red before me looked very familiar.
"Doodle!" I screamed above the pounding storm, and threw my body to the earth
above his. For a long, long time, it seemed forever, I lay there crying, sheltering my
fallen scarlet ibis from the heresy of rain.