Bloom's Literary Themes - ymerleksi - home
Bloom's Literary Themes - ymerleksi - home
Bloom's Literary Themes - ymerleksi - home
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Sabbath’s Theater 185<br />
this identity. The means by which this return is accomplished is the<br />
contents of a box of objects marked “Morty’s things.” Sabbath steals, or<br />
reclaims, this box from a piece of furniture in his cousin Fish’s house.<br />
The box, and therefore the gift of Morty’s things and the link to the<br />
past it represents, is directly tied to his mother. Its discovery conjures<br />
her presence: the piece of furniture was his mother’s, the labeling on<br />
the box is his mother’s, and he assumes it was his mother’s wish that<br />
he, Mickey, should come into Morty’s possessions eventually. Driving<br />
back to Madamaska Falls with the box beside him, the narrator asks:<br />
“How could he kill himself now that he had Morty’s things?” (415).<br />
It is Morty’s “things” that return him to life, rather than his foray into<br />
the underwear collection of Norman’s daughter Debbie, referred to by<br />
Sabbath as “her things” (emphasis his, 154).<br />
The letters Sabbath finds in the box give Morty a voice—although<br />
a voice that is precariously thin, even with the added significance that<br />
they are the last five letters he wrote before being shot down in the<br />
Phillippines, and therefore his last words. They are about as ordinary<br />
as letters from the war can be, talking about card games and food:<br />
“I got some bread from the mess hall and we have grape jelly so we<br />
made hot chocolate & ate bread & jelly this evening” (408). More<br />
interesting is the American flag that was sent to the family after<br />
Morty’s death. Along with the track medal and the letters, the flag<br />
emphasizes Morty’s normality, his society-approved behavior in every<br />
situation, up to his death. Then again, going to war and being the<br />
hero he was expected to be also got him killed, prompting Mickey<br />
to protest his brother’s death for the rest of his life in a wild array of<br />
taboo-breaking acts. To behave well, in Mickey’s eyes, spells death—<br />
to behave badly, on the other hand, celebrates, indeed insists on, life.<br />
But while Sabbath holds on to this clear division, the novel is not so<br />
simple: Nikki’s imagined continuation of life, the hovering presence<br />
of Sabbath’s mother, and Drenka’s ongoing presence in the novel<br />
already suggest a much more fluid boundary between life and death;<br />
Morty’s return (via his “things”) adds to the suspicion that death is<br />
in some ways unreliable—and that Mickey may have less cause for<br />
protest than he imagines.<br />
Philip Roth has been aggravating many readers since his debut<br />
Goodbye, Columbus, and certainly since Portnoy’s Complaint (1958,<br />
1967). Robert M. Greenberg has pointed out that “Roth’s frustration<br />
with his subcultural position as a Jew in American society is, in