Art Imitates Life

When I was in college I had a friend who was terribly racist towards African Americans. Besides the occasional comment and disparaging remark, he would sometimes mock someone of African decent by secretly dancing around behind him, jumping up and down, scratching under his arms and on top of his head, monkey-like. Seriously. It was actually kind of scary. I had never seen such overt, deep animosity towards another person based solely on race. The bitch of it was that, besides this serious character flaw, the guy was as nice as you could imagine. I think he made it his mission to teach me, his Northerner friend, the true meaning of southern hospitality. Overflowing with generosity, he actually gave me the shirt off his back once (okay, it wasn’t a shirt, it was a jacket, and it wasn’t on his back at the time, but you get the point).

I finally had to say something to him about it when he told me that the KKK was coming to town and that he was going to watch “his friends” march (he personally knew and was friends with a few members. Really). I had to say something not so much to change the guy (although I hoped I could) but really just to let him know how stupid he looked to a lot of us. Well, long story short, it was all wasted breath. He just wasn’t convinced at all. I was wrong and he was right, end of story. So I gave up and just tried to stay away from the topic when we hung out. He did the same, toning his antics down when I was around.

I was reminded of this when reading Ulysses yesterday, specifically in the passages early in the book dealing with the anti-Semitism of Haines and Deasy. I thought the way Joyce handled this was so skillful and true to life. For example, with surprising subtly Joyce presents the ugly face of racism in a great scene between Deasy and Dedalus. Deasy wants Dedalus to get his paper on Foot and Mouth disease published and while describing the article, begins to have a sort of racist meltdown, lamenting the death of “Old England” at the hands of the “Jew merchant.” Joyce sets up Deasy’s outburst perfectly with the following sentence, right before his anti-Semitic speech begins:

“He raised his forefinger and beat the air oldly before his voice spoke.”

I love this line (the first time I read it I thought it said that he beat the air “oddly,” which I liked, and then I realized that it said “oldly,” which I liked even better). Can’t you just see it, the man rising to his feet, nearly hysterical , finger shaking toward the sky, ready to launch into his tirade? When I read this, the image of my friend from school popped into my head, jumping up and down behind the backs of others, animated by hate and fear. The contrast Joyce creates in this scene adds force to the outburst and makes it all the more menacing. One minute, Deasy is describing a dry, academic paper he has written for publication, and the next minute he is up in arms, spouting about the end of the world at the hands of the Jews. Kind of like one minute sitting on the couch having a few beers with your pal and the next minute watching him jump around like an idiot behind the back of some guy he doesn’t even know. Full-on, in-your-face racism, in the book and in real life.