Digging Up the Bone: Analyzing the Dominant Perspective
It was 10am on a Thursday morning. The sky, still gloomy after an unexpected storm the night before, sporadically showcased cracks of daylight as the ominous clouds migrated toward their next destination. The postman carelessly chucked mail left and right as he made his usual rounds down the neighborhood. As he approached the end of the block, he heard the familiar call of Pepper, the Robinson family’s adult mut, impatiently wailing for attention. Instead of throwing the Robinson’s mail, the postman eagerly got out of his truck to greet his interim loyal companion. As the postman approached the gate, Pepper jumped up and down, eyes dancing with enthusiasm. Upon entering the isolated enclosure, Pepper passionately leapt into the postman’s arms as if this was the first and last time she’d ever see another human. After their long-awaited reunion, the postman said his goodbyes and headed toward his truck to finish his daily rounds. As he settled himself in the worn-out seat of the company van, he aimless fumbled around his belt to find that his keys had gone missing. Panicked, he retraced his steps back to the mysteriously quiet dog carefully chewing on something furred. The postman quickly realized that Pepper had unintentionally unhooked the carabiner attached to his belt during their energetic encounter and was now gnawing at the lucky rabbit’s foot fastened to its chain. The postman approached Pepper once more and was met with a violent growl. Cautiously, the postman reached down to retrieve the keys now dangling between Peppers razor sharp teeth. Pepper, taken away from her liter at the young age of 2 weeks, had no understanding of her own strength. She saw the postman’s arm reach toward her prize and instinctively snapped at the three fingers the postman would later need amputated.
Many of the stories written throughout time by a dominant culture improperly depict minority experiences. Specifically showcasing tales written in the 19th and 20th century by hearing writers in the novel Angels and Outcasts: An Anthology of Deaf Characters in Literature, depictions of the deaf are often instilled with animalistic qualities – specifically dogs. These qualities are symbolized metaphorically throughout several stories that illustrate the deaf as expressive, protective, unpredictable, and dumb.
“Mumu,”a short story written in the 19th century by Ivan Turgenev (1852), tells a tale of a young deaf man living in Moscow named Gerasim. Turgenev gives the reader a visual interpretation of an isolated being ‘dumb’ from birth who works tirelessly as one of the many servants enslaved by an old wealthy mistress. Gerasim had eyes for a laundress by the name of Tatyana. His affection for her is not only portrayed as enthusiastic, but violent and abusive, “…he gave her no peace” (p. 91). Furthermore, “the girl found herself under his protection” (pg. 91). While Tatyana fears Gerasim for his unnatural behaviors, she views him as a “faithful watchman” (p. 92). The reader then encounters a conversation between two men discussing potential matrimony with Tatyana. Aware of Gerasim’s intense interest in her, the men gossip of his hound-like attributes explaining, “if he hits you, he don’t know how hard he’s hitting” (p. 95). When a young pup is separated from their litter at an early age, they miss the necessary socialization period that essentially shapes their behaviors as an adult. Often times these dogs grow up as seemingly aggressive as they didn’t have their siblings to yelp in pain when they playfully bit too hard.
Coincidentally, Gerasim soon saves a newborn pup separated from his litter on the brink of death by the riverbank (Turgenev, 1852). Later named Mumu, Gerasim’s dog is portrayed as protective, loyal and expressive – uncoincidentally similar to the depictions of Gerasim himself (Turgenev, 1852). Mumu, lacking the beneficial socialization period, reacts violently when the house mistress attempts to stroke her. This leaves the misunderstood impression that Mumu, a dumb “spiteful creature,” doesn’t fit in and must be taken away (Turgenev, 1952).
Similarly, a 20th century story known as “Why It Was W-on-the-Eyes,”by Margaret Montague (1913), tells a true anecdote of a young deaf boy named Charlie sent away to a specialized school for the deaf from a corrupted perspective. Everybody at the school adored Charlie for his “enchanting smile,” “dancing eyes,” and “expressive little face” (p. 144). Much like a dog, every new thing Charlie encountered “seemed always to be the most exciting and delightful thing” (p. 144). A direct link shines bright when Charlie passionately attempts to learn speech. His teacher, Miss Evans, who uses the word ‘train’ instead of ‘teach,’ describes his eyes “as eager and as dumb and wistful as a little dog’s” (p. 147). Furthermore, Charlie has a violent side. He would often be caught fighting kids who judged the outfit he wore hand-selected by his own mother. Charlie isn’t just loyal to his mother, but intensely protective of the other blind kids at school when they, themselves, are getting bullied (Montague, 1913). The story culminates with an excited Charlie leaping into the arms of his mother after a long-awaited reunion to surprise her with a new ‘trick’ he was ‘trained’ to do. Overwhelmed with joy, his mother calls him a ‘lamb’ (Montague, 1913) – an animal that traditionally symbolizes a young vulnerable child dependent on love.
“The Key,”a short story written by Eudora Welty (1941) was also printed in the 20th century. The tale focuses on a deaf couple waiting for a train that will never arrive. The climax of the story involves main character, Albert, finding a key that he perceives to symbolize ultimate happiness (Welty, 1941). While the story doesn’t explicitly portray deaf characters as animalistic – it implicitly implies several of their characteristics. The way Albert reacts to finding the key is what makes this story all the more interesting. “I found it. Now it belongs to be. It is something important! Important! It means something…Remember that – I found it” (p. 163). The language used to describe Albert’s enthusiasm over finding the key mirrors the supposed reaction of a dog who finds random junk on the floor. Furthermore, finding they key leads Albert and his wife, Ellie, to miss the train they have been planning to board since they got married (Welty, 1941) –squirrel?
But the train didn’t matter anymore because “…Albert loved they key more than he loved Ellie! He did not mind missing the train” (p. 167). Albert would hide the key. He sought to selfishly protect it like a dog burying his bone in the garden. “…happiness, Albert knew, is something that appears to you suddenly, that is meant for you, a thing which you reach for and pick up… a shiny thing that reminds you of something alive and leaping” (p. 169).
Pepper saw that rabbit’s foot and the shiny keys attached and instinctively knew it was hers to protect. Her thoughts didn’t concern who it belonged to prior or how it suddenly appeared at her feet – the only thoughts that mattered was that it was now hers, an object that made her happy, and worthy of protection. Much like a deaf child who is isolated from their community, Pepper’s lack of socialization led her to behave inappropriately according to expectations. What was once perceived as an enthusiastic and loyal companion quickly shifted to misinterpreted violence. Did Pepper have a greater purpose as she coveted the postman’s keys? Could she have comprehended that he was the only human that gave her attention and by taking his keys Pepper could finally be happy? The answer is, we do not know. Why? We are not dogs. And hearing people are not deaf.
Stories written by non-minority groups about minority experiences will almost always develop an inaccurate illustration. After analyzing tales written in the 19th and 20th century from the novel Angels and Outcasts: An Anthology of Deaf Characters in Literature, the pattern of symbolically linking animalistic qualities with the deaf is disgustingly prevalent. The behavior of a dog is just as ununderstood as the deaf during this time and has no place being used as a comparison other than to support one’s confession of ignorance.
References:
Montague, M. (1913). Why it was w-on-the-eyes. In T. Batson, & E. Bergman (Eds.), Angels and outcasts: An anthology of deaf characters in literature (pp. 141-152). Gallaudet University Press.
Turgenev, I. (1852). Mumu. In T. Batson, & E. Bergman (Eds.), Angels and outcasts: An anthology of deaf characters in literature (pp. 84-121). Gallaudet University Press.
Welty, E. (1941). The key. In T. Batson, & E. Bergman (Eds.), Angels and outcasts: An anthology of deaf characters in literature (pp. 158-172). Gallaudet University Press.