Department of English
Faculty of Arts, Chulalongkorn University
"Everyday Use"
(1973)
Alice
Walker
(February 9, 1944 – )
Notes
48 Johnny Carson: U.S. TV personality best known as the long time talk show host of NBC's Tonight Show (1962–1992)
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48 tacky:
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Art
I think Mordecai Rich has about as much heart as a dirt-eating toad. Even when he makes me laugh I know that nobody ought to look on other people's confusion with that cold an eye.
"But that's what I am," he says, flipping through the pages of his scribble pad. "A cold eye. An eye looking for Beauty. An eye looking for Truth."
"Why don't you look for other things?" I want to know. "Like neither Truth nor Beauty, but places in people's lives where things have just slipped a good bit off the track."
"That's too vague," said Mordecai, frowning.
"So is Truth," I said. "Not to mention Beauty."
[...] Walker's statement in the 1973 interview (which took place in her home in Jackson, Mississippi) of the way she sees the story "Everyday Use" as a reflection of her own struggles as an artist, an admission that suggests that female conflicts over art are not so easily resolved as they are in "A Sudden Trip Home..." In "Everyday Use" (published in 1973) all three women characters are artists: Mama, as the narrator, tells her own story; Maggie is the quiltmaker, the creator of art for "everyday use"; Dee, the photographer and collector of art, has designed her jewelry, dress, and hair so deliberately and self-consciously that she appears in the story as a self-creation. Walker says in the interview that she thinks of these three characters as herself split into three parts:
...I really see the story as almost about one person, the old woman and two daughters being one person. The one who [end of page 101] stays and sustains—this is the older woman—who has on the one hand a daughter who is the same way, who stays and abides and loves, plus the part of them—this autonomous person, the part of them that also wants to go out into the world to see change and be changed....I do in fact have an African name that was given to me, and I love it and use it when I want to, and I love my Kenyan gowns and my Ugandan gowns—the whole bit—it's a part of me. But, on the other hand, my parents and grandparents were part of it, and they take precedence.
Walker is most closely aligned in the story with the "bad daughter," Dee, "this autonomous person," the one who goes out in the world and returns with African clothes and an African name. Like Dee, Walker leaves the community, appropriating the oral tradition in order to turn it into a written artifact, which will no longer be available for "everyday use" by its originators.
African American Music
The Long Road to Freedom: An Anthology of
Black Music
George Marek, of Austrian extraction, was impressed by the
enormous influence African American Music had on musicians who were not
Black. He cites, among many, a young Stephen Foster; the son of the mayor
of Allegheny, Pennsylvania; and "one Antonín Dvořák, who, in an article in
the New York Herald in 1893,
called attention to 'the beautiful Negro Music of America.'" (60)
Marek speaks of the overwhelming influence of African American music's discrete musical nuances, and the Black experience itself, on Gershwin and his Concerto in F, his Rhapsody in Blue, and Porgy and Bess. He also refers to the development of jazz from earlier Black music as a completely original facet of American music. We concur with Marek that popular music of our day, good and bad, could not exist without the antecedent of Black or African-matrixed music. He goes on to say that "the Beatles, Simon and Garfunkel, Jefferson Airplane, Elvis and a legion of other non-Black musicians and composers "all must and many do acknowledge their debt to the sounds that were heard long ago on the plantations." (60)
Alan Lomax, preeminent cultural anthropologist, writing of African and slave musics and ceremonies, says slave "spirituals invoke the powerful names of the biblical heroes in a context of ecstasy and veiled allusion. The earliest type (e.g. "Kneebone," "Daniel," and "Read 'Em, John") demands that the worshipper "shout," that is, dance his praise in a prescribed fashion leading to trance. The older shouts were dramatic; the dancers flapped their arms to imitate angels' wings or held out their hands as if reading from the Bible, like John the Reveltor. The whole performance was extremely African in style. The participants danced in a loose circle, counterclockwise, in tight rhythmic coordination, but not in unison, each one improvising, in his own way, on the movement's pattern. They leaned forward facing the earth, knees bent ("gimme the kneebone bend"), feet flat to the floor, moving in a sliding, shuffling step, seldom lifting and never crossing their feet. Foot crossing, the prominent trait of European dance, was regarded as sinful and was forbidden in the "shout" or sacred dance of the Blacks.
"All dancers clapped and sang, their voices breaking out in individualized but familiar patterns of rhythm, melody, and changing vocal quality that complemented the lead. The short-phrased leader-chorus form, so typical of Africa, invited total participation and permitted endless experiments in syncopation, in brief tonal and rhythmic comment, [end of page 72] in textual improvisation. During the service, the performance ran long—ten minutes to an hour—so that the brief melodies and their shifting polyrhythmic and polyparted support received a high polish before people sang and danced themselves out or got happy and shouted all over the church. Just as the singers were not restricted to one tonal quality but could play over the whole range of vocal qualities (moaning, cooing, sobbing, growling, and so on), so the dancers were not limited to repetitive movement but could break out into brief, surprising improvisations. Yet the whole group was united in its strict adherence to the beat of the feet on the floor and the orchestra of hands.
"This special amalgam of (early) Christianity and African
religious style gave the blacks a feeling of unity, hope, at times even of
joy, in spite of slavery and its aftermath during Reconstruction. It also
produced a large body of noble and touching songs, probably unmatched for
singability and worldwide popularity. They came from a people generally
regarded in that period as ignorant, uncouth and hopelessly miserable.
(74)
Music was used to communicate; it did much more than pleasure the soul: it worked as a language. It was important to the success of the volunteer and dangerous system of the Underground Railroad.
These are some of the songs used to provide escaping slaves with information, to pass along warnings, escape signals and the like, or to cover up clandestine, escape-connected activities. (86)
The spiritual "Steal Away to Jesus," as might be imagined,
had ongoing import to the slaves. Not allowed to converse in the fields,
they used songs to share information. Songs or segments were hummed or
sung from one to another until the group understood that a meeting would
occur in the plantation's "invisible church" that night. The "invisible
church" was a fact of slave life, not a figment of some writer's
imagination. Slaves worshipped wherever and as often as they could
secretly gather. "Steal Away to Jesus," while unequivocally spiritual in
intent, supported the slave's focus on death as surcease from travail, God
as deliverer, and heaven as home. In another context, it was also a covert
signal used to suggest the timeliness and wisdom of escape. Another
interpretation might be escape motivated by an overwhelming fear of death
at the hand of the slave owner or his minions. (88)
The
Trope of the Talking Book
"The literature of the slave" is an ironic phrase, at the very least, and is an oxymoron at its most literal level of meaning. "Literature," as Samuel Johnson used the term, denoted an "acquaintance with 'letters' or books," according to the Oxford English Dictionary. It also connoted "polite or human learning" and "literary culture." (127)
The slave's texts, then, could not be taken as specimens of a black literary culture. Rather, the texts of the slave could only be read as testimony of defilement: the slave's representation and reversal of the master's attempt to transform a human being into commodity, and the slave's simultaneous verbal witness of the possession of a humanity shared in common with Europeans. [...] The slave wrote not primarily to demonstrate humane letters, but to demonstrate his or her own membership in the human community. (128)
--Henry
Louis Gates, Jr., The Signifying Monkey: A Theory of African-American
Literary Criticism (Oxford UP, 1989).
In
an interview with Walker for his book on African-American quilters, Roland
Freeman asks her "what she would like to say to people in general about
quilting." Walker replies,
"That they should learn to do it. That they should think less about
collecting quilts and give more thought to making them. It may do all
kinds of good things, too, to collect what others have made, but I think
that it is essential that we know how to express, you know, our own sense
of connection. And there is no better sense of understanding our own
creation than to create, and so we should do that."[3]
Wangero Leewanika Kemanjo
African Images, Glimpses from a Tiger's Back
i
Beads around my neck
Mt. Kenya away over pineappled hills
Kikuyuland.
ii
A book of poems
Mt. Kenya's
Bluish peaks
"Wangari!"
My new name.
—Alice Walker, Once, Open Road, 1968.
The footnote on the page says "Wangari is a Kikuyu clan name indicating honorary acceptance into the Leopard clan." In "Everyday Use" Alice Walker lets the educated sister Dee introduce herself as "Wangero Leewanika Kemanjo." The uninformed reader may thing this is an ordinary African name. I assure you it is not.
[...]
These important names Dee bases her new-found identity on resemble Kikuyu names, but at least two of them are mispelt. Wangero is not a Kikuyu name, but Wanjiru is. It is one of the other original nine clan names of the Kikuyus. (Cf. Jomo Kenyatta's Facing Mount Kenya). The last of the three names is also distorted. The correct Kikuyu name is Kamenju. The middle name is not a Kikuyu name at all. One of my Kikuyu informants told me he knew a lady from Malawi who was called Leewanika, so it is at least a mixture of names from more than one ethnic group and maybe that is the point. Dee has names representing the whole East African region. Or more likely, she is confused and has only superficial knowledge of Africa and all it stands for.
—Helga Hoel, "Personal Names and Heritage: Alice Walker's 'Everyday Use,'" American Studies in Scandinavia, vol. 31, 1999, pp. 34–42.
A lecture that
Alice Walker delivered on September 13th 2010 at the University of
Capetown in South Africa, apparently puts a lot of questions regarding the
name "Wangero" to rest. On this date, at the Eleventh Annual Steve Biko
Lecture, in the lecture titled, "Coming to See You Since I was 5 Years
Old: A Poets Connection to the South African Soul," Walker credits her
college undergraduate Ugandan friend Constance Wangero for her
inquisitiveness and fascination with Africa and her peoples:
"...the most important friendship I encountered during my student
years...an African woman named Constance Wangero...from Uganda.
...Constance and I were sisters...developed my...interest...and concern
for Africa and its peoples. ...I was still 19 or 20...made my way to the
land of Constance Wangero...to discover...what made her...a wonderful
person, wise and gentle beyond her years and...those of any of the other
girls at our school. Uganda...people’s gentle courtesy and kindness. ...a
land of the greenest valleys and hills. ...a...feeling of peace and
patience with a stranger. I was taken in...by a Ugandan family...sheltered
and cared for...dispelling...any sense...that I would not be recognized as
one of Africa’s children."
Alice Walker transferred from Spelman College (Atlanta, Georgia) to Sarah
Lawrence College (Bronxville, NY) in 1963. At Spelman, Constance Wangero
became Walker's room-mate and closest friend. In 1964, after her junior
tenure in college, Walker journeyed to Uganda as a summer exchange
student. Amy Goodman interviewed Walker during the Organization of Women
Writers of Africa conference at New York University in 2004. Walker says,
without mentioning the name "Wangero":
"...at Spelman my roommate...wonderful woman from Uganda who made me care
deeply about Africans and African women. ...I went to Uganda trying to
understand how Constance had been created and produced by this country
which...was very beautiful...tranquil...green."
It therefore turns out that Wangero is an African personal name. There is
a place in Uganda named Wangero. In Luganda, one of the main languages of
Uganda, the root '-ngero' means "stories" or "proverbs." Wangero can
therefore mean, "place of stories" or "person of stories."
—Jonathan Musere, "Alice Walker's 'Everyday Use': The Emergence of the Name Wangero," Jonathan Musere the Scribbler, Overblog, 7 Sep. 2011.
Study Questions
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Review Sheet
Characters
Setting
house –
yard – "I will wait for her in the yard that Maggie and I made so clean and wavy yesterday afternoon"
Vocabulary
irony,
ironic
setting
diction; denotation, connotation
imagery
metonymy
symbol, symbolic, symbolism
Character, Characterization
major characters
minor characters
stock or type characters
stereotypes
confidant(e)
villain
hero
anti-hero
foil
self-revelation
personality
consistency in character behavior
motivation
plausibility of character: Is the character credible? Convincing?
flat character
round character, multidimensional character
static character, unchanged
developing character, dynamic character, active character
show vs. tell
indirect presentation of character, indirect characterization
direct presentation of
character
direct methods of revealing character:
Plot
Freytag's Pyramid
beginning, middle, end
scene
chance, coincidence
plot, main plot, minor plot, subplot, underplot, double plot, parallel plot
story
conflict, internal conflict, external conflict, clash of actions, clash of
ideas, clash of desires, clash of wills, major, minor, emotional, physical
protagonist
antagonist (antagonistic)
suspense (suspenseful)
mystery (mysterious, mysteriously, mysteriousness)
dilemma
surprise (surprising, surprised)
plot twist
ending
artistic unity (unified)
time sequence
exposition
in
medias res
complication (complicate)
rising action
falling action
crisis
climax
anti-climax (anti-climactic)
conclusion (conclude, conclusive)
resolution (resolve, resolving)
denouement
flashback, retrospect
back-story
foreshadowing
causality
plot structure
initiating incident
epiphany
reversal
catastrophe
deus
ex machina
disclosure, discovery
movement, shape of movement
trajectory
change
focus
Sample Student Responses to Alice Walker's "Everyday Use"
Prompt: (in-class writing, 20 minutes) Close read the passage in Alice Walker’s “Everyday Use” beginning with “‘Mama,’ Wangero said sweet as a bird. ‘Can I have these old quilts?’” to “This was the way she knew God to work.” (pp. 56–58), then answer the following question. Maggie is silent and voiceless. Do you agree with this statement? Explain.
Response 1:
Student L This
“Everyday Use” passage shows that Maggie has a voice and that it
is timely, expressive, and multivocal. As soon as Wangero asks
for the quilts, Mama “heard something fall in the kitchen” (56).
This is not a shy person who hesitates to reveal her mind. “And
a minute later the kitchen door slammed” further confirms that
this is a person who, not only can make herself heard, but
resoundingly and eloquently. By the end of the passage Maggie
gives a small speech, showing her decisiveness (“She can have
them, Mama” 58) and a heritage stronger and deeper than Dee’s
(Wangero’s) “I can ’member Grandma Dee without the quilts.” This
short scene illustrates that, unlike her sister Dee’s possessive
and self-centered loudness, Maggie’s voice comes from everything
around her and of her. She speaks through everyday objects like
what she holds in her hand (that is dropped), though parts of
the place she lives in like the door, and through her own voice,
showing a self-assertiveness and generosity by releasing Mama
from guilt of breaking a promise (“She can have them, Mama”) and
inner strength through her resolve from the surprise of Dee
wanting the quilts to eventually making peace with letting the
objects go because what they stand for is already in her: “I can
’member Grandma Dee without the quilts.” Maggie is neither
silent nor voiceless. The question is, rather, can you hear her?
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Response 2:
Student T This
scene illustrates the voicelessness of Maggie. It begins with
Wangero’s “sweet as a bird” coaxing: “Mama…Can I have these old
quilts?” (56). Despite “something fall[ing] in the kitchen” and
“the kitchen door slamm[ing],” both quite distinctive and loud,
Dee (Wangero) carries on as if there were no protest from
Maggie, reacting only to Mama: “No…I don’t want those” (57). In
the new day of African American renaissance, Dee can,
ironically, value “all this stitching by hand” but cannot
“Imagine!” (58) the value of her own sister still being able to
do it. She “gasps like a bee had stung her” when she does not
get her way, as if Maggie or Mama is the guilty bee who hurt her
for no apparent reason, and despite her exclamation of “priceless!,”
she does not appreciate the price that her demand to possess
quilts to “hang” has in depriving her sister Maggie of her
wedding present and in forcing her mother to break a promise. |
Reference
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Story Text
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Alice
Walker |
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Reference
Alice
Walker: Stitches in Time. Interview with Evelyn C. White,
Films for the Humanities and Sciences, 2004.
Hoel, Helga. "Personal Names and Heritage: Alice Walker's 'Everyday
Use,'" American Studies in Scandinavia, vol. 31, 1999, pp.
34–42.
Walker, Alice. "Everyday Use." In Love and Trouble: Stories of Black
Women. 1973. Harvest, 2001, pp. 47–59.
Further
Reading
Baker, Houston A., and Charlotte Pierce-Baker. "Patches: Quilts and Community in Alice Walker's 'Everyday Use.'" Alice Walker: Critical Perspectives Past and Present. Eds. Henry Louis Gates and K. A. Appiah. New York: Amistad, 1993. Print.
Freeman, Roland L. A Communion of the Spirits: African-American Quilters, Preservers, and Their Stories. Rutledge Hill P, 1996.
Gates, Henry Louis. The Signifying Monkey: A Theory of Afro-American Literary Criticism. New York: Oxford UP, 1989. Print.
Walker, Alice. Everyday Use. Ed. and introd. Barbara T. Christian. New Brunswick: Rutgers UP, 1994. Print. Women Writers: Texts and Contexts.
Walker, Alice. In Love and
Trouble: Stories of Black Women. New York: Harcourt Brace
Jovanovich, 1973. Print.
Walker, Alice. In Search
of Our Mothers' Gardens: Womanist Prose. Orlando: Harcourt, 2004.
Print.
White, Evelyn C. Alice Walker: A Life. W. W. Norton, 2004.
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Last updated August 21, 2019