While reading Truman Capote's Breakfast at Tiffany's, I was struck by
a certain quirkiness in his characters. From a certain perspective, all of
Capote's characters, including the nameless speaker, seem rather average or
ordinary -- they are all living life in New York as is expected of their
respective social class and circumstances. However, the way Capote paints them,
giving fine details that ultimately outline their respective characters, gives
them an allure that is almost surreal to me.
Describing Holly's follies, not
only in what she says and does, but what she wears, is an example, just as is Joe
Bell’s “disagreeable” personality, and the specific peculiarities of other
characters. Portraying each character’s life and reaction to said life maps
them out in a way that I don’t often find in American novels. In fact, Capote’s
writing reminds me of many British fiction pieces I have read and often
admired. Holly’s frequent injection of French quotes in her daily speech
influenced me to feel that this was a European work as well.
As can be expected, the character that stood out most in Breakfast at Tiffany’s for me was Holly
Golightly, or Lulamae Barnes, as she is later found to actually be named. This
only makes sense since the author and speaker spend so much time in the novel
intrigued by her, following her very own life story. The portrayal of Holly
Golightly is strangely specific, down to her chic black dress, pearl choker, cropped,
bleached hair, and definitely unforgotten, her dark shades. Holly is the archetypical
“interesting” character. Though not loved by everyone, she certainly has her
fair share of – specifically – male admirers, and quite a number of lovers as
well, not only from her word of mouth but from the speaker’s observances. If a
character like Holly were to exist today, in our midst, you can bet that she
would be the type of girl that most guys flocked over, but a girl that was
devoid of female friends. Other girls would most probably be jealous or
contemptuous of her.
Holly is definitely not my favorite character – and no, this is not because
I would be one of those absurdly jealous ‘other girls,’ as aforementioned. I
focus on her character because the author/speaker obviously wants his readers
to. While reading about Holly’s lifestyle and actions, I couldn’t help but be
scornful of her air-headed follies. Not only was she often deceptive, but she
wasn’t even really a “nice,” proper person. When the narrator initially read
his writing to her, she was unimpressed, and didn’t even bother to hide it. Like
her own friend O.J. Berman called her, she was a “real phony.” I have to
commend the author for trying to pass her off as a likeable character.
I am aware, however that this may all be because of how seriously screwed up
Holly is. By the end of the story, she was a teenage runaway turned courtesan
turned conspirator turned fugitive, who lived through the painful news of her
brother’s death and a miscarriage. One thing that struck me most about her was
how young she was through all of this. The events she lived seemed believable
of a woman in her thirties at least, who had lived most of her life. But Holly
was a mere eighteen years at the novel’s debut.
Capote truly makes me think about personal identity and how life’s events
can shape a person by presenting a character such as Holly to me. A great
lesson I take away from this piece is not to judge a book by its cover; Holly
seemed fictitious initially, but the novel made her up to be quite a woman of
substance.
-- Nakita
Showing posts with label Breakfast at Tiffany's. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Breakfast at Tiffany's. Show all posts
Monday, February 11, 2013
Holly Golightly: Am I a Manic Pixie Dream Girl yet?
In Holly
Golightly, Truman Capote created a character that was enduring. It was the kind
of character that inspired women from all over America in the 50s to pack up
their bags and travel to New York. As readers we loved her in all her glamour,
in her fifty-dollar tips to the powder room, in her refusal to be tied down by
nothing and nobody. We sympathized with her and forgave all her flaws, because
Truman Capote created a character that reminded us that as humans, we were all
flawed in some way, and more often than not, we had to live with our flaws,
with our issues, with our “mean reds”—so when she ran away in the end, we knew
it was going to happen and we were okay with it.
However,
personally, I struggled with her character. I struggled with her character
because it was a trope. At the time, when Truman Capote first fashioned her out
of the personalities and lives of his glamorous women friends, she wasn’t a
trope; she certainly wasn’t a stereotype either, but as a reader who in the
year 2013 has experienced the characters of Natalie Portman in Garden State,
Kate Winslet in Almost Famous, every role that Zoey Dechanel has basically ever
played, Midori Kobayashi in Norwegion Wood (by Haruki Murakami) and most of the
female characters in John Greene novels, I feel resentful of Holly Golightly
because I’m afraid that her Manic Pixie Dream Girl (MPDG) like tendencies may
have set the stage for that stock character to cement its hold in the world of
literature and film.
However, I only
say MPDG like tendencies because Holly Golightly wasn’t actually an MPDG—when
film critic Nathan Rabin coined that term after watching Elizabethtown in 2005,
it was to describe the bubbly, almost-adorable-in-her-quirkiness woman that
exists solely so that the sensitive brooding male protagonist can re-embrace
life in all of its own imperfections. Obviously that was not Holly,
because while Fred may have been obsessed with her, she didn’t change his life
considering the fact that it never even occurred to him to write about her. But
she certainly had those tendencies with her occasional shop-lifting, her love
for Tiffany’s, her playing the guitar when she thought no one was looking, her
nameless cat (because god forbid you gave a name to “an independent” stray cat) etc. The trauma of the MPDG
like tendencies is what made me resist her in all her charm and charisma.
Because ultimately I could not relate to her character and for me she could
never be real. It is commendable that Capote made sure that she wasn’t just a
superficial character, that she had some depth reflected in her commitment
issues and in her relationship with her brother Fred, but why did she have
those issues? How did she become that “wild thing” that she was? We know that
she had a rough childhood but that was only until Doc Golightly took her in. We
know that that time in her life was good because Holly loved Doc and had no
particular complaints about her life with him—so how did those commitment
issues come up? Capote did not develop her character. He kind of jut picked her
up from East Jesus Nowhere and placed her in New York without ever
explaining why she was the way she was. And then he combined that ambiguity
with personality traits that were too cute to be real (she may not be one, but she obviously had to join the ranks of the MPDGs)—women like Holly
Golightly don’t exist in the real world. So when Holly ran away in the end, I
didn’t just hope that she was happy wherever she was, I wanted her to come back
and deal with the case against her—because
that’s what a real person would’ve done.
--Smriti Bansal
Sunday, February 10, 2013
The Character (Breakfast at Tiffany’s)
Holiday “Holly” Golightly has to be one of the most exceptional
characters I have ever read about. Then again, I haven’t read many books. In Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Capote writes
about the protagonist recounting the memory of an eccentric neighbor who lived
in his apartment building on the Upper East Side. Holly Golightly was not any
ordinary girl, yet, from my reading of the story, she seemed to have fit in so
nicely with the rest of the city.
Her character itself was a powerful one, always dictating the flow of
the plot that surrounds her, and always dictating what the other characters
should do. This is evident throughout the story as she only does what she wants
to do regardless if it will bring her fame or fortune, as in the case of her
story with OJ. I felt her character was so powerful that the protagonist kept
getting swept away by her, long after she left. Perhaps it was love. Perhaps it
was such a difference in their personalities.
But as powerful as Holly’s character was, due to the existence of other
characters, Holly is the way she is. For example, it was Doc Golightly that
found and raised Holly after she and her brother ran away from foster care, and
perhaps, it was there that she began to feel a sense of responsibility not to
the world around her, but a sense of responsibility to herself; Holly only
seeks pleasure from life. It was probably also during that time that Holly
began to have a taste for older men. Following her departure from the farm, she
was scouted by OJ Berman and through him, her accent was gone and she picked up
French.
I also especially loved the fact that these two characters existed
because through them, Capote was able to tell the stories behind Holly that molded
her into the way she is. Those characters also explained so many questions the
reader had, such as “Who exactly is Holly? Where did she come from? Why are you
so eccentric? What happened to you?”
In addition, each and every single character that starred in the book
had some ultimate role revolving around Holly. For example, I.Y. Yunioshi, was only mentioned in the
beginning of the book. But I see his role as somewhat iconic in the fact that
through him, the protagonist meets Holly, not once, but twice I would say. The first
time is when Yunioshi decides that enough is enough and tells Holly to no
longer ring his bell to let her in. Then, Holly decides to bother the narrator
and through that, a friendship, and an unrequited love, blossoms. (Holly just
enjoyed the company of the narrator in my opinion though she seemed to have a problem
with boundaries).
The second time would actually be the first instance in the book when Joe Bell calls the narrator to the bar to tell him that there was a sign of Holly in, of all the places, Africa. This sign would turn out to be a head carving in her resemblance, as shown in photos taken by none other than I.Y. Yunioshi. I would not call this a meeting but more a rediscovery of sorts. It would be the second time, in chronological order, that Mr. Yunioshi introduces the Holly to the protagonist. Of course, this second time, the protagonist remembers Holly and decides to write the story of his time with her. This is the second meeting: a recount of the first.
Sachin A. Heerah
Saturday, February 9, 2013
"Fred" and Sexuality
Since “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” was published, the sexuality
of our narrator/character “Fred” has been questioned by a number of critics and
even just the general reading population. After doing a bit of research, I
couldn’t locate any particular or concrete sources either verifying or denying
Fred’s sexual preferences (besides various bloggers claiming Capote has
“explicitly stated that Fred is gay” without providing any sort of sources),
but the possibility left me thinking about the relationship between Fred and
Holly- why hadn’t it, like many of the relationships Holly has shared with
other characters, become sexual? Based on his behavior as both character and narrator,
could Fred’s being gay prove plausible?
What struck me primarily about Fred as a character was that
he, unlike plenty of the other characters in the story, never gave himself to
Holly (or anyone else, for that matter) sexually; He never thought about it,
and he never discusses dating anyone.
As a matter of fact, the only time Fred ever mentions someone being very
attractive is in his description of José Yabarra-Jaegar: “by the time we had I
was charmed…his brown head and bullfighter’s figure had…a perfection…something
nature had made just right” (45). Additionally, I found it noteworthy that the
only time Holly’s flirtatious qualities are dropped is in his presence, and it
is made clear to the reader that she doesn’t expect a sexual relationship from
him, unlike her expectations for the other men with whom she interacts. However,
none of this really dawned on me until a second reading. The first time through, I just assumed that
Fred was heterosexual (why would anyone think otherwise?) and was so concerned
and interested in Holly because he was unashamedly in love with her. And for
more than half of the text, I thought I was right, until Fred blatantly admits: “For I was
in love with her. Just as I’d once been in love with my mother’s elderly
colored cook and a postman who let me follow him on his rounds and a whole
family named McKendrick. That category of love generates jealousy, too” (72).
At that point, I began to ponder the idea of Fred being gay- it struck me as so
contrasted to the feelings I had been
led to believe Fred felt for Holly. I was stunned and intrigued.
That being said, just because Fred isn’t attracted to Holly
doesn’t mean he isn’t interested in women at all, and it would be offensive to
think so. However, his behavior toward her (and lack of romantic/sexual desire,
according to our narrator); his not mentioning any attraction toward women
throughout the text; Holly’s strange behavior toward him that sets him apart
from the other men in her life; and Fred’s only brief mentioning of attraction
directed toward a man, I don’t believe that the idea should be immediately dismissed.
Knowing Capote identified as homosexual, and that when asked, he “described the
novel as…an emotional, or spiritual, autobiography, if not an actual literal
one”, it wouldn’t be far-fetched to discuss
Fred’s own preferences and how that would change anything in the story. [1]
While I myself haven’t formulated a truly solid opinion
concerning Fred’s sexuality even after all of this speculation, I actually
appreciate the fact that it isn’t clearly stated in the text and is left
questionable. It’s an interesting contrast to the rampant sexual nature of many
of the other characters and the general stark honesty and openness concerning
Holly and her own preferences. Fred’s inwardness is preferable to me personally
because most people don’t really project that kind of information to others and
rather choose to keep it to themselves, and Fred’s reality-grounded character
in that sense is appealing to me.
[1] Real, Jure. "Truman Capote." Magill's Survey of American
Literature. Ed. Steven G. Kellman. Revised Edition ed. 1 Vol. Salem Press
Inc, 2006. 397-406. Print.
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