The point in Baldwin’s short story The Rockpile is that actively making
decisions, whether they are good or bad, is better than spending an entire life
being passive and immobile. Baldwin communicated this point through the unreceptive
tone used while describing the actions of the people not on the rockpile, as
well as the religious parallels subtly favoring Roy’s decision to sneak off to
the rockpile.
The readers
are introduced to the rockpile through a filter of Roy’s voice, who sees the
rockpile as a pillar of importance that connects him with the word below him,
and who feels that the rockpile has “such mysterious importance” he “felt it to
be his right” to occupy it (153). The introduction of the rockpile is followed
by a lull in activity by the characters, as Roy shifts impatiently and “continues
to stare at the street.” His brother John simply “does nothing.” Even the sun’s
actions are only narrated in terms of the fire escape the boys are seated on,
as it falls across them “with a high, benevolent indifference” (153). The lack
of action by the brothers after they are warned by their mother represents the
unavoidable ambiguity of the lives of people who blindly follow their superiors.
In contrast, the church members, who are introduced as passing by and waving, are
obviously radiating more action and freedom, as well as happiness, than the
people who are sitting on the fire escape and loitering in “their own latent
wickedness” (154) on the street.
When
Roy decides that he is going to play on the rockpile with the other boys, the
filter shifts to that of his brother, John, who watches Roy “sourly” as he leaves.
The physical departure of Roy compared to John’s continued passive nature
allows readers to see how unhappiness can be rooted in inactivity. John returns
to his studying, still not moving from his seat on the fire escape, even when a
fight breaks out, which he begins to watch with “absent amazement” (155). By describing John’s viewing of the conflict
as absent, the narrator is putting mental distance between John and the boys
who are on the rockpile, once again reinforcing the difference between taking
part in something and merely watching it.
After
Roy gets hit in the head with the can, the first person who comforts him is
Sister McCandless, who consoles him by saying “Don’t fret. Ain’t a boy been
born don’t get his knocks every now and again.” This line was significant
because based on her title, we can assume she is an active member in the
church, which supports the idea from the opening paragraphs that churchgoers
are worldlier and more understanding people compared to the others who sit on
the fire escape all day. This idea was reinforced yet again when Reverend
Gabriel, Roy’s dad, is introduced. At first, readers may mistakenly interpret
Gabriel as disrespectful, because he talks in a condescending tone to his wife,
Elizabeth, when he asks what she did after Roy got hurt. “You think you ever
gonna learn to do this right?” he asked her on page 158, regarding her caring
for the children. He was upset because she did not call the doctor, go to the
window to check on her children, or do anything else that required action other
than talking and seeing. Her religious husband, however, recognizes that a
passive life is not is not adequate to raise children.
At the
end of the story, there is a final shift, after Gabriel and his wife have an
argument over who was responsible for Roy’s injury. The narrator’s filter is
shifted to Elizabeth’s perspective. She seems to recognize the error of her
ways and, for the first time she “moved the child in her arms,” an action that
rids the hate from her husband’s eyes, because he is now exposed to her desire
to dynamically care for her children. The final scene, where she tells John to
pick up his father’s lunchbox, and he obliges, is a concluding example of how everyone
should follow the lead of the religious individuals in the novel and begin to
take an active role in their lives.
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