Quote 1
He believed he was having house-fits, the glassy anger men sometimes feel when a woman's house begins to bind them, when they want to yell and break something or at least run off. He knew all about that—felt it lots of times—in the Delaware weaver's house, for instance. But always he associated the house-fit with the woman in it. This nervousness had nothing to do with the woman […] Also in this house-fit there was no anger, no suffocation, no yearning to be elsewhere. He just could not, would not, sleep upstairs or in the rocker or, now, in Baby Suggs' bed. So, he went to the storeroom. (11.14)
Isn't that just another way of rationalizing that a house is a woman's space and that men belong outside of the house? Hasn't Paul D ever heard of women's lib?
Quote 2
The last of the Sweet Home men, so named and called by one who would know, believed it…. Was that it? Is that where manhood lay? In the naming done by a whiteman who was supposed to know? Who gave them the privilege not of working but of deciding how to? No. In their relationship with Garner was true metal: they were believed and trusted, but most of all they were listened to. (13.1-2)
Paul D's making a case for Garner as a good guy. "No," manhood isn't in Garner's "naming" of them as men; it's not that superficial. It lies in the way they were able to experience their manhood under Garner.
Quote 3
Because he was a man and a man could do what he would: be still for six hours in a dry well while night dropped; fight raccoon with his hands and win; watch another man, whom he loved better than his brothers, roast without a tear just so the roasters would know what a man was like. And it was he, that man, who had walked from Georgia to Delaware, who could not go or stay put where he wanted to in 124—shame. (13.3)
Paul D's feeling pretty bad about getting (literally) pushed around by a teenaged girl. Granted, Beloved's a lot more than a teenager, but Paul D doesn't know that. All he knows is that it isn't particularly manly to be done in by a girl when men are supposed to be defined by their physical toughness.
"Your love is too thick," he said, thinking, That b**** is looking at me; she is right over my head looking down through the floor at me.
"Too thick?" she said, thinking of the Clearing where Baby Suggs' commands knocked the pods off horse chestnuts. "Love is or it ain't. Thin love ain't love at all." (18.19-20)
Just for clarity, Paul D is fighting with Sethe, but "that b****" he's talking about is Beloved. Is Paul D being paranoid or is Beloved causing the fight in some way?
Only this woman Sethe could have left him his manhood like that. He wants to put his story next to hers.
"Sethe," he says, "me and you, we got more yesterday than anybody. We need some kind of tomorrow."
He leans over and takes her hand. With the other he touches her face. "You your best thing, Sethe. You are." His holding fingers are holding hers.
"Me? Me?" (27.97-100)
Here's Paul D, taking a cue out of Sixo and Thirty-Mile Woman's guide to romance. He's applying what he's learned; instead of being all ego-driven, he's setting his ego—well, not completely aside, but next to Sethe's. Isn't that sweet? And a huge change from the guy we met at the beginning of the novel, don't you think?
Quote 6
"Mister, he looked so… free. Better than me. Stronger, tougher. Son a b**** couldn't even get out of the shell hisself but he was still king and I was…" Paul D stopped and squeezed his left hand with his right. He held it that way long enough for it and the world to quiet down and let him go on.
"Mister was allowed to be and stay what he was. But I wasn't allowed to be and stay what I was. Even if you cooked him you'd be cooking a rooster named Mister. But wasn't no way I'd ever be Paul D again, living or dead. Schoolteacher changed me. I was something else and that something was less than a chicken sitting in the sun on a tub." (8.102-103)
Mister the rooster is the man. So much so that Paul D refers to Mister's super-red coxcomb more than once as a way of highlighting how Paul D falls short because of slavery. And yes, if you're starting to read into the whole red coxcomb thing, go right on ahead.
Quote 7
He thought what they said had merit, and what they felt was serious. Deferring to his slaves' opinions did not deprive him of authority or power. It was schoolteacher who taught them otherwise. A truth that waved like a scarecrow in rye: they were only Sweet Home men at Sweet Home. (13.1)
Paul D reflects on how different Mr. Garner and schoolteacher were. And because we love the Wizard of Oz, we can't help but wonder: is that "scarecrow in rye" a possible reference to the Scarecrow? Remember, his insecurities were all about how intelligent—and therefore, how human—he was.
Quote 8
Paul D made a few acquaintances; spoke to them about what work he might find. Sethe returned the smiles she got. Denver was swaying with delight. And on the way home, although leading them now, the shadows of three people still held hands. (4.64)
The tone of this passage may seem detached, even a little nonchalant, but don't let that fool you—it's huge. First, Sethe and Denver are finally out of the house and—we assume—mixing with the townspeople; something they haven't done in years. Second, it's like they're becoming a real family, and that makes Beloved's arrival right after this passage even more of an intrusion and a disruption.
Mother. Father. Didn't remember the one. Never saw the other. He was the youngest of three half-brothers (same mother—different fathers) sold to Garner and kept there, forbidden to leave the farm, for twenty years. Once, in Maryland, he met four families of slaves who had all been together for a hundred years: great-grands, grands, mothers, fathers, aunts, uncles, cousins, children. Half white, part white, all black, mixed with Indian. He watched them with awe and envy, and each time he discovered large families of black people he made them identify over and over who each was, what relation, who, in fact, belonged to who.
"That there's my auntie. This here's her boy. Yonder is my pap's cousin. My ma'am was married twice—this my half-sister and these her two children. Now my wife…" (24.2-3)
Think of this passage—of Paul D recollecting his "family" life—in relation to Sethe's take on family. The two characters seem so different to us when it comes to the whole family thing, don't you think?
"Something funny 'bout that gal," Paul D said, mostly to himself.
"Funny how?"
"Acts sick, sounds sick, but she don't look sick. Good skin, bright eyes and strong as a bull."
"She's not strong. She can hardly walk without holding on to something."
"That's what I mean. Can't walk, but I seen her pick up the rocker with one hand."
"You didn't."
"Don't tell me. Ask Denver. She was right there with her." […]
"Paul D says you and him saw Beloved pick up the rocking chair single-handed. That so?"
Long, heavy lashes made Denver's eyes seem busier than they were; deceptive, even when she held a steady gaze as she did now on Paul D. "No," she said. "I didn't see no such thing."
Paul D frowned but said nothing. If there had been an open latch between them, it would have closed. (5.58-64, 67-69)
Tsk, tsk, deceptive Denver. But how about that last line about the "open latch"? That's Morrison's talent: she creates an image for us that shows just how Paul D and Denver are shut out from each other from this point on. Just another example of how Paul D is associated with picture-metaphors (think: tin box heart).
Quote 11
She moved him.
Not the way he had beat off the baby's ghost—all bang and shriek with windows smashed and jelly jars rolled in a heap. But she moved him nonetheless, and Paul D didn't know how to stop it because it looked like he was moving himself. Imperceptibly, downright reasonably, he was moving out of 124. (11.1-2)
Here we get the build-up and the justification for the chapter's final betrayal: Beloved's seduction of Paul D—or Paul D's decision to sleep with Beloved, however you want to look at it). What do you think? Is Beloved really moving Paul D around? Can he really not control his body?