As most good literature is, Flannery O'Connor's "A Good Man is Hard to Find" was, at best, confusing. Racking my mind during our class discussion for a good comment to make was difficult because, frankly, I don't think I am even close to understanding the true meaning behind her work. Perhaps the most confusing part of her short story was the Misfit. Sure, it was surprising that a seemingly normal family of six could go out on a family vacation together and get shot to death after having an accident on the road, but the Misfit's role in this tragedy was more confusing.
In class, many of my peers argued that the Misfit was either an Angel of Death figure, similar to the Devil, or a Christ figure. And while I usually can agree with most any comments that come my way--I have a knack of being able to change my perspective to support any claim(s) I hear--I just couldn't see it this time. I didn't see the Misfit as a Christ character at all. Sure, salvation and a "coming to Jesus" was an integral part of the grandmother's death, but I just couldn't see the Misfit as a Christ figure. On the other hand, however, he didn't seem a Devil figure to me either. You see, the Misfit seemed to know more about life than the other characters in the story. In a way, he is a type of Messiah, allowing the family members, particularly the grandmother, to see the wrongs of her life and achieve a type of salvation.
I found it interesting that the Misfit seemed to know and understand his own shortcomings. I feel that O'Connor felt that his only credentials for being able to take someone else's life in his own hands, for killing the grandmother, was because he understood life better than her and understood what it would take to help her reach a certain potential as a human before her death. The grandmother was not, by society's standards, technically evil. There are so many self-absorbed people in society, especially today, that the grandmother's selfishness--and blatant ignorance of it--does not seem a grave evil. In fact, I don't even believe that her self-absorption was her greatest, biggest sin. Rather, I see her belief that she is perfect and is therefore worthy of judging others as her tragic flaw, the sin that leads to her death. Perhaps O'Connor was trying to drive the point home that everything in life is a matter of perception, that no one else has any right at all to judge another.
This will be my last blog post for this blog, ever. I feel that reading "A Good Man is Hard to Find" as the last thing we will read in AP Lit proper because of its unsure view of life. Sure, I have looked forward to graduating for so long, and this year in particular has felt like trying to run through a swamp, I truly don't really know where I am going. Well, in terms of my life. I have my life planned out, just as the grandmother had--I'm going to college at Northwestern University, where I have always wanted to go; I'm going to be studying Psychology, something that has always interested me--but I still don't know my tragic flaw. I don't understand the meaning of life. I don't know where my future will take me. I'm so unsure. I need a Misfit to help me guide my way, though I hope the road I take won't lead to a premature death.
AP Lit, it's been good, but it's time to move on.
