读书笔记——A-Good-Man-Is-Hard-To-Find
Book Report： A Good Man Is Hard To Find 《好人难寻》读书报告
Book Report: A Good Man Is Hard To FindA Good Man Is Hard To Find is a short story written by Mary Flannery O'Connor in 1953. Mary Flannery O'Connor was a Southern writer who often wrote in a Southern Gothic style and relied heavily on regional settings and grotesque characters. Her writing also reflected her Roman Catholic faith and frequently examined questions of morality and ethics.To tell the truth, after reading this book for the first time, I couldn't comprehend what thoughts it wants to get across. It seemed too hard for me to walk into the world of this book. Unwilling to give up, I inquired about the information of the author, Mary FlanneryO'Connor, whose works mainly described evil, atonement and redemption and represent religion out of the bined with the background, I read the book word by word and gradually caught on.The content of the novel is very simple. The grandmother with her son in a family of five had travelled to Florida. For the grandmother insisted on seeing an old plantation on the way, the car turned over and the whole family was killed by the escaped criminal called Misfit who happened to pass by with his fellows.In my opinion, character analysis is the toughest part to figure out this book, mainly including the grandmother and the Misfit.In the beginning, I considered the grandmother as a good man, on account of her lively and talkative character, which formed a sharp contrast with the indifference of the remainder of her families. However, something was different when I finished reading thebook. Although the ending still seemed cloudy to me, the selfishness and hypocrisy of the grandmother were revealed from details little by little.In the first place, the exaggerated dress exposed her vanity. "In case of an accident, anyone seeing her dead on the highway would know at once that she was a lady". How ironical the description is!She attempted to create a noble and virtuous image, but the use of the word "pickaninny" showed her discrimination and hypocrisy obviously. In the second place, the talkative character became a tool to help her achieve what she wanted, for instance inciting her grandchildren to force her son Bailey to drive to the old house, which was also the fuse of the tragedy. In the third place, her stupidity and selfishness were laid bare. "You're The Misfit"! "I recognized you at once"! It was the two sentences that ruined her family. What's more, when confronting danger, her first reaction was protecting herself. "You wouldn't shoot a lady". She didn't even mention kids.Whereas the Misfit performed an evil but more pathetic character. There is no denying that he was a cruel and ruthless villain. He ignored the cries of an old woman, killing off the family of six without hesitation. But from other behaviors, such as his embarrassment for not having a shirt before ladies and softly speaking and acting, we could feel a good will which the author tried to express, hidden under malice. He was not born with malice, while his experience compelled him to be a bad guy."It's some that can live their whole life out without asking about it and it's others has to know why it is, and this boy is the latter. He's going to be into everything"!"I was a gospel singer for a while. I had been most everything. Been in the arm service, both land and sea, at home and abroad, been twice married, been an undertaker, been with the railroads, plowed Mother Earth, been in a tornado, seen a man burnt alive once. I had even seen a woman flogged". His father's unwelcomeness and his vast life experience let him have a taste of the social misery. Whatever he saw was the ugly fact of life; wherever he lived was lack of love; whoever he met was indifferent. So there was no doubt that he eventually descended to an unforgivable villain. His name Misfit indicated that he actually couldn't adapt to the evil society.As for other characters of this novel, they embodied their indifference, numbness and snobbery, regardless of children or adults. In the family of six, no one cared for what the grandmother talked about, as if they were strangers.After an accident, no one concerned about whether anyone was hurt, and the kids were even disappointed that nobody was killed. On the other hand, snobbery was represented by innocent kids barely. They scorned their poor hometown, but were crazy about the old house which was said to conceal family silver. What they said always could hardly do without money, but seemed quite common.Mary Flannery O'Connor made the story a deformed society. In addition to revealing the apathetic relationship between people, the novel also depicts social mammonism,trust-missing, deterioration of social order from another angel, which also confirms the title of the novel " A Good Man Is Hard To Find ".When it comes to the end of the novel, I still cannot make it out, as well as the religious part of the whole book. I could not judge whether the last sentence of the grandmother was sincere repentance or a hypocritical lie. And although the author professed Catholic, I hardly felt the redemption from the God in this miserable story. Maybe I should read it for more times so that I can totally get across.A Good Man Is Hard To Find is really a good work. It pays to read again and again.。
a good man is hard to find 读后感
Analyze “A Good Man Is Hard To Find”----------------- IndifferenceThe fiction “A Good Man Is Hard To Find” tragic story. The family planned to go to Florida on holiday, but after knowing The Misfit headed toward Florida, the grandmother insisted on going to east Tennessee. On the way, the grandmother wanted to go to a plantation where she often visited in the young. Therefore she persuaded other family members to drive to there. Unfortunately, they had an accident because of the dirt road. They requested three people who passed by in there to help them. However the grandmother recognized them, and these people just were The Misfit. Finally the family members were killed by The Misfit. After reading this, the tragedy that the family members were killed can let you recall the title of the fiction. Maybe you can ask that why these good people could meet the bad people? However, my understanding is not like this. In my opinion, nearly all the people in the fiction cannot be considered as good man. They were hypocritical and selfish, and they only paid attention to their own right and feeling. T he title reflects a fact that a world that a good people is hard to find is filled with indifference. Certainly, in a selfish and hypocritical world, a good man is hard to find. Thus, I think that the topic of the fiction reflects indifference. Next, I will discuss the indifference in the story.Family’ indifferenceThe grandmother seemed to believe in God, and she also liked a devout Christian. However, in my opinion, she was good at disguise because she was hypocritical,vainglorious, and selfish. In the beginning of the story, the grandmother tried to persuade her son Bailey not to take a holiday in Florida, and she only wanted to visit some of her connections in east Tennessee. She said: “I wouldn’t take my children in any direction with a criminal like that aloose in it” (paragraph1) because the person called The Misfit headed toward Florida. She used the reason only to satisfy her individual purpose. Thus, this showed that she was selfish. However, “Bailey didn’t look up from his reading” (paragraph2). This showed that Bailey did not respect and love his mother. The relationship between them was indifferent, and they lacked communicate with each other. She was not successful able to persuade her son, and she tried to seek help form Bailey’s wife. But, “The children’s mother didn’t seem to hear her” (paragraph3). The two children, John Wesley and June Star did not respect their grandmother, and they satirized the grandmother: “If you don’t want to go to Florida, why dontcha stay at home?” (Paragraph 3). On the way to east Tennessee, the grandmother only wanted to go to a plantation where she often visited in the young. Therefore she persuaded other family members to drive to there even if she ignored a fact that the dirt road was hard to drive. I think the description shows that the grandmother is extreme shellfish. When they had an accident, the two children could not care for their relative’s safety. On the opposition, they were extreme disappointed because nobody was killed. You know, they face with their relative. Reading to this, the scene makes me very surprise. I think that these details can highlight the relationship among the family members is extreme not harmonious, and these plots also reflect the indifference.Thus, from my perspective, the relationship among the family members was extreme indifferent. Faced with The Misfit fellow, the grandmother only considered her own safe: “You wouldn’t shoot a lady, would you?” (Paragraph 86). She did not consider her children’s safety, and she complimented The Misfit people again and again. This showed that the grandmother was selfish. In my opinion, the family lacks love and communication, which led to the indifference.When the family members had an accident, the grandmother said: “I believe I have injured an organ.” (Paragraph69). But nobody responded to her. However, as the oldest member in the family, the grandmother’s safety was not cared for by her children. This plot also shows that the family members are indifferent and selfish. When the grandmother recognized The Misfit, “Bailey turned his head sharply and said something to his mother that shocked even the children.” (Paragraph84). “The old lady began to cry and The Misfit reddened” (Paragraph84). Obviously, Bailey’s attitude was very rude and indifferent. In my opinion, Bailey’s action was not accidental, and it was formed by family environment. From the description, we cannot image the degree of indifference in the family, and The Misfit also reddens about it.Bailey was the grandmother’s son. He did not care for anything happened around him, and anything in his eye were not important. On the way, he still drove the vehicle, and the family members nearly had not any communication. Even if after the accident, except anger Bailey had not any words. When his mother tried to persuade him to drive to east Tennessee, he even if ignored his mother. From Bailey’s characteristic, it also reflects a fact that in the indifferent society, the relationshipamong family members is also indifferent.In my opinion, the author described the indifference in the family, and the problem cannot only existed in a particular family. The family may stand for the temporal society. This may be a social problem, and next I will discuss this aspect.Social indifferenceIn the fiction, the problem of indifference also present in a widely aspect that is society. Social indifference makes people and people lack the communication and emotion. Few people can consider other people’s right and feeling, and nearly all people live in their own world.When the grandmother saw a black boy who did not have any britches on, she laughed at him: “Little niggers in the country don’t have things like we do.” (Paragraph 20). From my perspective, the grandmother did not consider his feeling, and she did not realize the pain in black people. This also reflected discrimination and indifference.The conversation between the grandmother and Red Sammy also showed indifference: “People are certainly not nice like they used to be.” (Paragraph35). It seemed that they both expressed a fact that good man was not to find. However, their conversation lacked emotion, and is not sincere. This also shows that the problem of indifference still exist in society.In the paragraph 117, The Misfit also said that he was treated unjustly. From his words, the words are filled with sincerity, it is convincing. This makes me to think that his evil may be promoted by the unfairness and indifference in the society. Justthe indifference, he became a wicked man. In my opinion, this plot also recall the title “A Good Man Is Hard To Find”.In a word, an indifferent feeling can be found in the fiction, and I conclude that the indifference could lead to the fiction’s tragedy. In the fiction, indifference exists in the family and society. Besides, when indifference is developed in a certain level, it can cause some serious problems. Throughout the fiction, all the contents recall the title tightly. Therefore, I think that people should build a harmonious relationship rather than an indifferent relationship. Maybe this is the fiction’s topic, and this may be what the author want to tell us.。
A Good Man Is Hard To Find汉英版
A Good Man Is Hard To FindThe grandmother didn't want to go to Florida. She wanted to visit some of her connections in east Tennes- see and she was seizing at every chance to change Bailey's mind. Bailey was the son she lived with, her only boy. He was sitting on the edge of his chair at the table, bent over the orange sports section of the Journal. "Now look here, Bailey," she said, "see here, read this," and she stood with one hand on her thin hip and the other rattling the newspaper at his bald head. "Here this fellow that calls himself The Misfit is aloose from the Federal Pen and headed toward Florida and you read here what it says he did to these people. Just you read it. I wouldn't take my children in any direction with a criminal like that aloose in it. I couldn't answer to my conscience if I did."Bailey didn't look up from his reading so she wheeled around then and faced the children's mother, a young woman in slacks, whose face was as broad and innocent as a cabbage and was tied around with a green head-kerchief that had two points on the top like rabbit's ears. She was sitting on the sofa, feeding the baby his apricots out of a jar. "The children have been to Florida before," the old lady said. "You all ought to take them somewhere else for a change so they would see different parts of the world and be broad. They never have been to east Tennessee."The children's mother didn't seem to hear her but the eight-year-old boy, John Wesley, a stocky child with glasses, said, "If you don't want to go to Florida, why dontcha stay at home?" He and the little girl, June Star, were reading the funny papers on the floor."She wouldn't stay at home to be queen for a day," June Star said without raising her yellow head."Yes and what would you do if this fellow, The Misfit, caught you?" the grandmother asked."I'd smack his face," John Wesley said."She wouldn't stay at home for a million bucks," June Star said. "Afraid she'd miss something. She has to go everywhere we go.""All right, Miss," the grandmother said. "Just re- member that the next time you want me to curl your hair."June Star said her hair was naturally curly.The next morning the grandmother was the first one in the car, ready to go. She had her big black valise that looked like the head of a hippopotamus in one corner, and underneath it she was hiding a basket with Pitty Sing, the cat, in it. She didn't intend for the cat to be left alone in the house for three days because he would miss her too much and she was afraid he might brush against one of her gas burners and accidentally asphyxiate himself. Her son, Bailey, didn't like to arrive at a motel with a cat.She sat in the middle of the back seat with John Wesley and June Star on either side of her. Bailey and the children's mother and the baby sat in front and they left Atlanta at eight forty-five with the mileage on the car at 55890. The grandmother wrote this down because she thought it would be interesting to say how many miles they had been when they got back. It took them twenty minutes to reach the outskirts of the city.The old lady settled herself comfortably, removing her white cotton gloves and putting them up with her purse on the shelf in front of the back window. The children's mother still had on slacks and still had her head tied up in a green kerchief, but the grandmother had on a navy blue straw sailor hat with a bunch of white violets on the brim and a navy blue dress with a small white dot in the print. Her collars and cuffs were white organdy trimmed with lace and at her neckline she had pinned a purple spray of cloth violets containing a sachet. In case of an accident, anyone seeing her dead on the highway would know at once that she was a lady.She said she thought it was going to be a good day for driving, neither too hot nor too cold, and she cautioned Bailey that the speed limit was fifty-five miles an hour and that the patrolmen hid themselves behind billboards and small clumps of trees and sped out after you before you had a chance to slow down. She pointed out interesting details of the scenery: Stone Mountain; the blue granite that in some places came up to both sides of the highway; the brilliant red clay banks slightly streaked with purple; and the various crops that made rows of green lace-work on the ground. The trees were full of silver-white sunlight and the meanest of them sparkled. The children were reading comic magazines and their mother and gone back to sleep."Let's go through Georgia fast so we won't have to look at it much," John Wesley said."If I were a little boy," said the grandmother, "I wouldn't talk about my native state that way. Tennessee has the mountains and Georgia has the hills.""Tennessee is just a hillbilly dumping ground," John Wesley said, "and Georgia is a lousy state too.""You said it," June Star said."In my time," said the grandmother, folding her thin veined fingers, "children were more respectful of their native states and their parents and everything else. People did right then. Oh look at the cute little pickaninny!" she said and pointed to a Negro child standing in the door of a shack. "Wouldn't that make a picture, now?" she asked and they all turned and looked at the little Negro out of the back window. He waved"He didn't have any britches on," June Star said."He probably didn't have any," the grandmother explained. "Little riggers in the country don't have things like we do. If I could paint, I'd paint that picture," she said.The children exchanged comic books.The grandmother offered to hold the baby and the children's mother passed him over the front seat to her. She set him on her knee and bounced him and told him about the things they were passing. She rolled her eyes and screwed up her mouth and stuck her leathery thin face into his smooth bland one. Occasionally he gave her a faraway smile. They passed a large cotton field with five or fix graves fenced in the middle of it, like a small island. "Look at the graveyard!" the grandmother said, pointing it out. "That was the old family burying ground. That belonged to the plantation.""Where's the plantation?" John Wesley asked."Gone With the Wind" said the grandmother. "Ha. Ha."When the children finished all the comic books they had brought, they opened the lunch and ate it. The grandmother ate a peanut butter sandwich and an olive and would not let the children throw the box and the paper napkins out the window. When there was nothing else to do they played a game by choosing a cloud and making the other two guess what shape it suggested. John Wesley took one the shape of a cow and June Star guessed a cow and John Wesley said, no, an automobile, and June Star said he didn't play fair, and they began to slap each other over the grandmother.The grandmother said she would tell them a story if they would keep quiet. When she told a story, she rolled her eyes and waved her head and was very dramatic. She said once when she was a maiden lady she had been courted by a Mr. Edgar Atkins Teagarden from Jasper, Georgia. She said he was a very good-looking man and a gentleman and that he brought her a watermelon every Saturday afternoon with his initials cut in it, E. A. T. Well, one Saturday, she said, Mr. Teagarden brought the watermelon and there was nobody at home and he left it on the front porch and returned in his buggy to Jasper, but she never got the watermelon, she said, because a nigger boy ate it when he saw the initials, E. A. T. ! This story tickled John Wesley's funny bone and he giggled and giggled but June Star didn't think it was any good. She said she wouldn't marry a man that just brought her a watermelon on Saturday. The grandmother said she would have done well to marry Mr. Teagarden because he was a gentle man and had bought Coca-Cola stock when it first came out and that he had died only a few years ago, a very wealthy man.They stopped at The Tower for barbecued sand- wiches. The Tower was a part stucco and part wood filling station and dance hall set in a clearing outside of Timothy. A fat man named Red Sammy Butts ran it and there were signs stuck here and there on the building and for miles up and down the highway saying, try red sammy's famous barbecue. none like famous red sammy's! red sam! the fat boy with the happy laugh. a veteran! red sammy's your man!Red Sammy was lying on the bare ground outside The Tower with his head under a truck while a gray monkey about a foot high, chained to a small chinaberry tree, chattered nearby. The monkey sprang back into the tree and got on the highest limb as soon as he saw the children jump out of the car and run toward him.Inside, The Tower was a long dark room with a counter at one end and tables at the other and dancing space in the middle. They all sat down at a board table next to the nickelodeon and Red Sam's wife, a tall burnt-brown woman with hair and eyes lighter than her skin, came and took their order. The children's mother put a dime in the machine and played "The Tennessee Waltz," and the grandmother said that tune always made her want to dance. She asked Bailey if he would like to dance but he only glared at her. He didn't have a naturally sunny disposition like she did and trips made him nervous. The grandmother's brown eyes were very bright. She swayed her head from side to side and pretended she was dancing in her chair. June Star said play something she could tap to so the children's mother put in another dime and played a fast number and June Star stepped out onto the dance floor and did her tap routine."Ain't she cute?" Red Sam's wife said, leaning over the counter. "Would you like to come be my little girl?""No I certainly wouldn't," June Star said. "I wouldn't live in a broken-down place like this for a million bucks!" and she ranback to the table."Ain't she cute?" the woman repeated, stretching her mouth politely."Arn't you ashamed?" hissed the grandmother.Red Sam came in and told his wife to quit lounging on the counter and hurry up with these people's order. His khaki trousers reached just to his hip bones and his stomach hung over them like a sack of meal swaying under his shirt. He came over and sat down at a table nearby and let out a combination sigh and yodel. "You can't win," he said. "You can't win," and he wiped his sweating red face off with a gray handkerchief. "These days you don't know who to trust," he said. "Ain't that the truth?" "People are certainly not nice like they used to be," said the grandmother."Two fellers come in here last week," Red Sammy said, "driving a Chrysler. It was a old beat-up car but it was a good one and these boys looked all right to me. Said they worked at the mill and you know I let them fellers charge the gas they bought? Now why did I do that?""Because you're a good man!" the grandmother said at once."Yes'm, I suppose so," Red Sam said as if he were struck with this answer.His wife brought the orders, carrying the five plates all at once without a tray, two in each hand and one balanced on her arm. "It isn't a soul in this green world of God's that you can trust," she said. "And I don't count nobody out of that, not nobody," she repeated, looking at Red Sammy."Did you read about that criminal, The Misfit, that's escaped?" asked the grandmother."I wouldn't be a bit surprised if he didn't attack this place right here," said the woman. "If he hears about it being here, I wouldn't be none surprised to see him. If he hears it's two cent in the cash register, I wouldn't be a tall surprised if he . . ." "That'll do," Red Sam said. "Go bring these people their Co'-Colas," and the woman went off to get the rest of the order. "A good man is hard to find," Red Sammy said. "Everything is getting terrible. I remember the day you could go off and leave your screen door unlatched. Not no more."He and the grandmother discussed better times. The old lady said that in her opinion Europe was entirely to blame for the way things were now. She said the way Europe acted you would think we were made of money and Red Sam said it was no use talking about it, she was exactly right. The children ran outside into the white sunlight and looked at the monkey in the lacy chinaberry tree. He was busy catching fleas on himself and biting each one carefully between his teeth as if it were a delicacy.They drove off again into the hot afternoon. The grandmother took cat naps and woke up every few minutes with her own snoring. Outside of Toombsboro she woke up and recalled an old plantation that she had visited in this neighborhood once when she was a young lady. She said the house had six white columns across the front and that there was an avenue of oaks leading up to it and two little wooden trellis arbors on either side in front where you sat down with your suitor after a stroll in the garden. She recalled exactly which road to turn off to get to it. She knew that Bailey would not be willing to lose any time looking at an old house, but the more she talked about it, the more she wanted to see it once again and find out if the little twin arbors were still standing. "There was a secret:-panel in this house," she said craftily, not telling the truth but wishing that she were, "and the story went that all the family silver was hidden in it when Sherman came through but it was never found . . .""Hey!" John Wesley said. "Let's go see it! We'll find it! We'll poke all the woodwork and find it! Who lives there? Where do you turn off at? Hey Pop, can't we turn off there?""We never have seen a house with a secret panel!" June Star shrieked. "Let's go to the house with the secret panel! Hey Pop, can't we go see the house with the secret panel!""It's not far from here, I know," the grandmother said. "It wouldn't take over twenty minutes."Bailey was looking straight ahead. His jaw was as rigid as a horseshoe. "No," he said.The children began to yell and scream that they wanted to see the house with the secret panel. John Wesley kicked the back of the front seat and June Star hung over her mother's shoulder and whined desperately into her ear that they never had any fun even on their vacation, that they could never do what THEY wanted to do. The baby began to scream and John Wesley kicked the back of the seat so hard that his father could feel the blows in his kidney."All right!" he shouted and drew the car to a stop at the side of the road. "Will you all shut up? Will you all just shut up for one second? If you don't shut up, we won't go anywhere.""It would be very educational for them," the grandmother murmured."All right," Bailey said, "but get this: this is the only time we're going to stop for anything like this. This is the one and only time.""The dirt road that you have to turn down is about a mile back," the grandmother directed. "I marked it when we passed." "A dirt road," Bailey groaned.After they had turned around and were headed toward the dirt road, the grandmother recalled other points about the house, the beautiful glass over the front doorway and the candle-lamp in the hall. John Wesley said that the secret panel was probably in the fireplace."You can't go inside this house," Bailey said. "You don't know who lives there.""While you all talk to the people in front, I'll run around behind and get in a window," John Wesley suggested."We'll all stay in the car," his mother said.They turned onto the dirt road and the car raced roughly along in a swirl of pink dust. The grandmother recalled the times when there were no paved roads and thirty miles was a day's journey. The dirt road was hilly and there were sudden washes in it and sharp curves on dangerous embankments. All at once they would be on a hill, looking down over the blue tops of trees for miles around, then the next minute, they would be in a red depression with the dust-coated trees looking down on them."This place had better turn up in a minute," Bailey said, "or I'm going to turn around."The road looked as if no one had traveled on it in months."It's not much farther," the grandmother said and just as she said it, a horrible thought came to her. The thought was so embarrassing that she turned red in the face and her eyes dilated and her feet jumped up, upsetting her valise in the corner. The instant the valise moved, the newspaper top she had over the basket under it rose with a snarl and Pitty Sing, the cat, sprang onto Bailey's shoulder.The children were thrown to the floor and their mother, clutching the baby, was thrown out the door onto the ground; the old lady was thrown into the front seat. The car turned over once and landed right-side-up in a gulch off the side of the road. Bailey remained in the driver's seat with the cat gray-striped with a broad white face and an orange nose clinging to his neck like a caterpillar.As soon as the children saw they could move their arms and legs, they scrambled out of the car, shouting, "We've had an ACCIDENT!" The grandmother was curled up under the dashboard, hoping she was injured so that Bailey's wrath would not come down on her all at once. The horrible thought she had had before the accident was that the house she had remembered so vividly was not in Georgia but in Tennessee.Bailey removed the cat from his neck with both hands and flung it out the window against the side of a pine tree. Then he got out of the car and started looking for the children's mother. She was sitting against the side of the red gutted ditch, holding the screaming baby, but she only had a cut down her face and a broken shoulder. "We've had an ACCIDENT!" the children screamed in a frenzy of delight."But nobody's killed," June Star said with disappointment as the grandmother limped out of the car, her hat still pinned to her head but the broken front brim standing up at a jaunty angle and the violet spray hanging off the side. They all sat down in the ditch, except the children, to recover from the shock. They were all shaking."Maybe a car will come along," said the children's mother hoarsely."I believe I have injured an organ," said the grandmother, pressing her side, but no one answered her. Bailey's teeth were clattering. He had on a yellow sport shirt with bright blue parrots designed in it and his face was as yellow as the shirt. The grandmother decided that she would not mention that the house was in Tennessee.The road was about ten feet above and they could see only the tops of the trees on the other side of it. Behind the ditch they were sitting in there were more woods, tall and dark and deep. In a few minutes they saw a car some distance away on top of a hill, coming slowly as if the occupants were watching them. The grandmother stood up and waved both arms dramatically to attract their attention. The car continued to come on slowly, disappeared around a bend and appeared again, moving even slower, on top of the hill they had gone over. It was a big black battered hearselike automobile. There were three men in it.It came to a stop just over them and for some minutes, the driver looked down with a steady expressionless gaze to where they were sitting, and didn't speak. Then he turned his head and muttered something to the other two and they got out. One was a fat boy in black trousers and a red sweat shirt with a silver stallion embossed on the front of it. He moved around onthe right side of them and stood staring, his mouth partly open in a kind of loose grin. The other had on khaki pants and a blue striped coat and a gray hat pulled down very low, hiding most of his face. He came around slowly on the left side. Neither spoke.The driver got out of the car and stood by the side of it, looking down at them. He was an older man than the other two. His hair was just beginning to gray and he wore silver-rimmed spectacles that gave him a scholarly look. He had a long creased face and didn't have on any shirt or undershirt. He had on blue jeans that were too tight for him and was holding a black hat and a gun. The two boys also had guns."We've had an ACCIDENT!" the children screamed.The grandmother had the peculiar feeling that the bespectacled man was someone she knew. His face was as familiar to her as if she had known him all her life but she could not recall who he was. He moved away from the car and began to come down the embankment, placing his feet carefully so that he wouldn't slip. He had on tan and white shoes and no socks, and his ankles were red and thin. "Good afternoon," he said. "I see you all had you a little spill.""We turned over twice!" said the grandmother."Once", he corrected. "We seen it happen. Try their car and see will it run, Hiram," he said quietly to the boy with the gray hat."What you got that gun for?" John Wesley asked. "Whatchagonna do with that gun?""Lady," the man said to the children's mother, "would you mind calling them children to sit down by you? Children make me nervous. I want all you all to sit down right together there where you're at.""What are you telling US what to do for?" June Star asked.Behind them the line of woods gaped like a dark open mouth. "Come here," said their mother."Look here now," Bailey began suddenly, "we're in a predicament! We're in . . ."The grandmother shrieked. She scrambled to her feet and stood staring. "You're The Misfit!" she said. "I recognized you at once!""Yes'm," the man said, smiling slightly as if he were pleased in spite of himself to be known, "but it would have been better for all of you, lady, if you hadn't of reckernized me."Bailey turned his head sharply and said something to his mother that shocked even the children. The old lady began to cry and The Misfit reddened."Lady," he said, "don't you get upset. Sometimes a man says things he don't mean. I don't reckon he meant to talk to you thataway.""You wouldn't shoot a lady, would you?" the grandmother said and removed a clean handkerchief from her cuff and began to slap at her eyes with it.The Misfit pointed the toe of his shoe into the ground and made a little hole and then covered it up again. "I would hate to have to," he said."Listen," the grandmother almost screamed, "I know you're a good man. You don't look a bit like you have common blood. I know you must come from nice people!""Yes mam," he said, "finest people in the world." When he smiled he showed a row of strong white teeth. "God never made a finer woman than my mother and my daddy's heart was pure gold," he said. The boy with the red sweat shirt had come around behind them and was standing with his gun at his hip. The Misfit squatted down on the ground. "Watch them children, Bobby Lee," he said. "You know they make me nervous." He looked at the six of them huddled together in front of him and he seemed to be embarrassed as if he couldn't think of anything to say. "Ain't a cloud in the sky," he remarked, looking up at it. "Don't see no sun but don't see no cloud neither.""Yes, it's a beautiful day," said the grandmother. "Listen," she said, "you shouldn't call yourself The Misfit because I know you're a good man at heart. I can just look at you and tell.""Hush!" Bailey yelled. "Hush! Everybody shut up and let me handle this!" He was squatting in the position of a runner about to sprint forward but he didn't move."I pre-chate that, lady," The Misfit said and drew a little circle in the ground with the butt of his gun."It'll take a half a hour to fix this here car," Hiram called, looking over the raised hood of it."Well, first you and Bobby Lee get him and that little boy to step over yonder with you," The Misfit said, pointing to Bailey and John Wesley. "The boys want to ast you something," he said to Bailey. "Would you mind stepping back in them woodsthere with them?""Listen," Bailey began, "we're in a terrible predicament! Nobody realizes what this is," and his voice cracked. His eyes were as blue and intense as the parrots in his shirt and he remained perfectly still.The grandmother reached up to adjust her hat brim as if she were going to the woods with him but it came off in her hand. She stood staring at it and after a second she let it fall on the ground. Hiram pulled Bailey up by the arm as if he were assisting an old man. John Wesley caught hold of his father's hand and Bobby I,ee followed. They went off toward the woods and just as they reached the dark edge, Bailey turned and supporting himself against a gray naked pine trunk, he shouted, "I'll be back in a minute, Mamma, wait on me!""Come back this instant!" his mother shrilled but they all disappeared into the woods."Bailey Boy!" the grandmother called in a tragic voice but she found she was looking at The Misfit squatting on the ground in front of her. "I just know you're a good man," she said desperately. "You're not a bit common!""Nome, I ain't a good man," The Misfit said after a second ah if he had considered her statement carefully, "but I ain't the worst in the world neither. My daddy said I was a different breed of dog from my brothers and sisters. 'You know,' Daddy said, 'it's some that can live their whole life out without asking about it and it's others has to know why it is, and this boy is one of the latters. He's going to be into everything!"' He put on his black hat and looked up suddenly and then away deep into the woods as if he were embarrassed again. "I'm sorry I don't have on a shirt before you ladies," he said, hunching his shoulders slightly. "We buried our clothes that we had on when we escaped and we're just making do until we can get better. We borrowed these from some folks we met," he explained."That's perfectly all right," the grandmother said. "Maybe Bailey has an extra shirt in his suitcase.""I'll look and see terrectly," The Misfit said."Where are they taking him?" the children's mother screamed."Daddy was a card himself," The Misfit said. "You couldn't put anything over on him. He never got in trouble with the Authorities though. Just had the knack of handling them.""You could be honest too if you'd only try," said the grandmother. "Think how wonderful it would be to settle down and live a comfortable life and not have to think about somebody chasing you all the time."The Misfit kept scratching in the ground with the butt of his gun as if he were thinking about it. "Yestm, somebody is always after you," he murmured.The grandmother noticed how thin his shoulder blades were just behind his hat because she was standing up looking down on him. "Do you every pray?" she asked.He shook his head. All she saw was the black hat wiggle between his shoulder blades. "Nome," he said.There was a pistol shot from the woods, followed closely by another. Then silence. The old lady's head jerked around. She could hear the wind move through the tree tops like a long satisfied in suck of breath. "Bailey Boy!" she called."I was a gospel singer for a while," The Misfit said. "I been most everything. Been in the arm service both land and sea, at home and abroad, been twice married, been an undertaker, been with the railroads, plowed Mother Earth, been in a tornado, seen a man burnt alive oncet," and he looked up at the children's mother and the little girl who were sitting close together, their faces white and their eyes glassy; "I even seen a woman flogged," he said."Pray, pray," the grandmother began, "pray, pray . . ."I never was a bad boy that I remember of," The Misfit said in an almost dreamy voice, "but somewheres along the line I done something wrong and got sent to the penitentiary. I was buried alive," and he looked up and held her attention to him by a steady stare."That's when you should have started to pray," she said. "What did you do to get sent to the penitentiary that first time?" "Turn to the right, it was a wall," The Misfit said, looking up again at the cloudless sky. "Turn to the left, it was a wall. Look up it was a ceiling, look down it was a floor. I forget what I done, lady. I set there and set there, trying to remember what it was I done and I ain't recalled it to this day. Oncet in a while, I would think it was coming to me, but it never come." "Maybe they put you in by mistake," the old lady said vaguely."Nome," he said. "It wasn't no mistake. They had the papers on me.""You must have stolen something," she said.The Misfit sneered slightly. "Nobody had nothing I wanted," he said. "It was a head-doctor at the penitentiary said what I had done was kill my daddy but I known that for a lie. My daddy died in nineteen ought nineteen of the epidemic flu and I。
Analysis of A Good Man Is Hard to Find
Analysis on A Good Man Is Hard to FindAmerican writer Flannery O’Connor particularly acclaimed for her stories which combined comic with tragic and brutal, belonged to the Southern Gothic tradition group that focused on the decaying South. Flannery O'Connor was born in Savannah, Georgia, the only child of a Catholic family. The region was part of the 'Christ-haunted' Bible belt of the Southern States. The spiritual heritage of the region shaped profoundly O'Connor's writing. O'Connor's short stories have been considered her finest work. With A Good Man Is Hard to Find and Other Stories, she came to be regarded as a master of the form. The following passages will devote to a detailed analysis of her famous A Good Man Is Hard to Find.The whole story is connected by a journey in the family car. There are a grandmother, her son and daughter-in-law and their three children. They encounter an escaped criminal called the Misfit and his two killers, Hiram and Bobby Lee. The family is casually wiped out by them when the grandmother recognizes the Misfit from his ''Wanted'' poster. When the hallucinating grandmother murmurs: "Why you're one of my babies. You're one of my own children!", The Misfit shoots her and says: "She would of been a good woman if it had been somebody there to shoot her every minute of her life." At first, it may be difficult to follow O'Connor's train of thought as to where she was headed in her stories. However, upon a second and even a third glance, the almost hidden themes and meanings behind the stories appeared and the readers are presented with a very vivid picture of Southern life, religion, and just life in general. O'Connor explores human nature and the turns it can take. The religious undertones emphasize her beliefs that man cannot save himself by relying upon the arm of flesh.The most outstanding character in this story is the grandmother, and since the story is told from the third person omniscient view, it will be easy for us to analyze the grandmother’s character. She connects the other characters together throughout the story with her own selfishness and stupidity. As the story opens, the scene is set in the home of a man named Bailey and his family which consists of his mother (the grandmother), his wife and their two children—June Star and John Wesley. Bailey is planning a trip to Florida, but the grandmother would rather go to Tennessee. We see the first sign of the grandmother’s selfishness here when she tries to convince her son, Bailey, to take the family to Tennessee. She does her persuasion through a newspaper article which says that a convict called The Misfit has escaped from the FederalPenitentiary. The references to the possibility of the grandmother's cat’s dying (noticing the five or six graves in a field) suggests that if she leaves it at home, it may avoid a highway accident, which reveals the stupidity of the grandmother. The Misfit is as important a character as the grandmother but with more strangeness. At the beginning of the story, we learn about the grandmother that "Bailey was the son she lived with," suggesting the possibility of another son. Later she stands over her son's balding head with "one hand on her thin hip and the other rattling the newspaper" and warns him about The Misfit. Besides, The Misfit is called Misfit because O'Connor wants to show that The Misfit's tendency to take things literally is the theological heart of the problem. He has a depth of experience as shown in his listing of occupations--gospel singing, undertaking, plowing "Mother Earth," being in a tornado, seeing a man burnt and a woman flogged--that goes far beyond the banal experience of his victims. Sensitive and psychotic, he has the spiritual insight to recognize that true belief throws "everything off balance" (p. 1894), just as we, the readers, are thrown off balance by what we see happen.To make the story vivid and description lifelike, O’Connor has dialogue description dominating the whole story and proper scenery description is also adopted as indispensable element. A good amount of dialogue is employed in order to connect the whole journey and to drive forward the development of the plot as well as to reveal the personality of each character. The story also ends with a dialogue between The Misfit and Bobby Lee:“She would of been a good woman," The Misfit said, "if it hadbeen somebody there to shoot her every minute of her life.""Some fun!" Bobby Lee said."Shut up, Bobby Lee" The Misfit said. "It's no real pleasure in life."Through the dialogue, we see a desperate creature compelled to kill people under his unconsciousness. And such brutal behavior is ironically covered with philosophical thinking and a gradual realization of life. Scenery description also devotes to the depiction of a decaying South:Outside of Toombsboro she woke up and recalled an old plantationthat she had visited in this neighborhood once when she was ayoung lady. She said the house had six white columns across thefront and that there was an avenue of oaks leading up to it and twolittle wooden trellis arbors on either side in front where you satdown with your suitor after a stroll in the garden.This is a traditional description of the South in which old plantation and oaks are the traditional images of the old South. However, the name of Toombsboro reminds the readers of a big somber tomb. Similarly, the "burnt brown" owner's wife, the flea-catching monkey, and the animal guard all are reminders of a Dante-Inferno landscape. The scenery description provides a mood that the family is doomed to come to an end of their lives and that no life is supposed to make a living in such environment.O’Connor employs several of figures of speech among which symbolism and repetition are outstanding elements. The grandmother keeps throwing the name of Jesus at The Misfit, but her persuasion turns to be a failure on The Misfit. The Misfit’s need for verification traps him in an inadequate "rational" view of the world. There is a symbol of religion by presenting the image of Jesus. O'Connor lets the children reiterate their own delight in having had an ACCIDENT precisely because, one suspects, she would have us understand that there are no accidents in God's plan. Besides, the title of this story symbolizes the whole process of life, but life can be finished simply because of an accident. There is belief during one’s life, but what we see in this story is the destruction of such religious belief. Moreover, the repetition of “a good man is hard to find”suggests a troubled society and the difficulty of establishing a belief and trust among people. It also comes up with the question: what is a “good man”. A good man truly is hard to find, but perhaps that is the point. O’Connor’s religious background becomes apparent as the reader continually sees the lives of her characters ruined because they tried to rely too heavily upon the mortal things and became engulfed in pride.A Good Man Is Hard To Find is a deceptively easily read story which may make readers laugh and laugh, for O'Connor captures a certain essence of southern life as few people have. But in the midst of the laughter, if we read carefully, we also realize that the story invites debate about the meaning of "a good man," about the meaning of the events with which it includes, and about the meaning of our existence in the universe.。
AGOODMANISHARDTOFIND译文
好人难寻[美]弗兰纳里·奥康纳屠珍译老奶奶不愿意去佛罗里达州，而想到东田纳西州去探望一下亲友，因此想方设法叫贝雷改变主意。
贝雷是她的独养儿子，老奶奶如今跟着他过日子。
这当儿，贝雷正坐在紧贴桌子旁边的那把椅子上，聚精会神地看报纸上橙色版面的体育消息。
“贝雷，你瞧,”她说，“看看这条消息吧!"她站在那里，一只手叉在瘦小的胯骨上，另一只手冲着贝雷的秃脑瓜子擦拉擦拉地摇晃手里的报纸.“那个自称不合时宜的人,从联邦监狱里逃出来了，正向佛罗里达州窜逃呐。
瞧这里说他对人们都干了些什么鬼名堂。
有这样一个逃犯在州里窜来窜去，我可绝不带孩子还朝那个方向去凑热闹。
要是那样做，良心上说不过去哟！”贝雷依旧津津有味地看报，头连抬都没抬一下。
于是,老奶奶转身冲着孩子妈；孩子妈穿一条长裤子，脸膛宽得象棵圆白菜，露出一副天真无邪的表情，头上裹着一块绿头巾,两角扎得就跟兔子的一对耳朵一样。
她抱着婴儿坐在沙发上，从罐里一勺一勺地舀杏儿喂他。
老奶奶说:“孩子们已经去过佛罗里达州,该换个新鲜地方带他们去玩玩，让她们四处见识见识，开阔开阔眼界嘛、他们可从来没去过东田纳西州。
”孩子妈好象没听见她的话，戴眼镜的八岁胖儿子约翰·韦斯利却插嘴说：“您要是不愿意去佛罗里达，干吗不呆在家里呢？”他跟妹妹琼·斯塔正坐在地上看滑稽画报。
“就是让她在家里当一天女皇，她也不愿意呆，”琼·斯塔说。
长着金发的脑袋抬也没抬。
“是啊，要是那个不合时宜的人把你们俩都逮住,该怎么办？”“我掴他嘴巴子，”约翰·韦斯利说。
“就是给她一百万块钱，她也不愿意呆在家里，”琼·斯塔又说，“她呀,总怕错过点什么没看见。
反正咱们上哪儿，她必得跟着上哪儿。
”“好咧,小姐，”老奶奶说,“等下回你再叫我给你卷头发,咱们瞧着办吧！”琼?斯塔说自己的头发天然就是鬈曲的。
第二天清晨,老奶奶头一个上了汽车,准备出发。
她带上自己那个硕大的黑旅行袋,把它放在角落里，它看起来活象一头河马的脑袋；下面还藏着一只篮子，里面放着她的老猫咪，她可舍不得把猫孤零零地留在家里呆三天，它会十分想念她的，况且她担心小宝贝会碰开煤气炉的开关，发生意外，窒息而死.说真的，她的儿子贝雷可不愿意带一只老猫走进汽车游客旅馆里活现眼。
a good man is hard to find 概括
a good man is hard to find 概括
《A Good Man is Hard to Find》是美国作家弗兰纳里·奥康纳的一部短篇小说。
故事发生在1930年代的美国南部，讲述了一个名叫“莫迪”的年轻女子和她的家人在逃亡过程中遇到的一系列不幸事件。
故事开始时，莫迪一家决定去看望她的祖母。
然而，他们的旅程并不顺利。
在路上，他们遇到了一位神秘的旅行者，他自称是“好人”。
莫迪的父亲很快就发现这个人并不是什么好人，而是一个危险的罪犯。
尽管如此，莫迪的父亲还是选择让他加入他们的家庭聚会。
随着故事的发展，莫迪的父亲逐渐意识到这个“好人”的真实面目。
他试图让家人离开，但已经为时已晚。
最终，这个“好人”在一场血腥的冲突中杀死了莫迪的家人，只有莫迪幸免于难。
这个故事展示了人性的复杂性和道德的模糊性。
它探讨了什么是真正的善良和邪恶，以及人们在面对困境时会做出什么样的选择。
《A Good Man is Hard to Find》以其独特的叙事风格和深刻的主题赢得了广泛的赞誉，被认为是奥康纳最具代表性的作品之一。
好人难寻a good man is hard to find
好人难寻（A Good Man Is Hard To Find)作者弗兰纳里·奥康纳（Flannery O’Connor）老奶奶不想去弗罗里达。
她想去东田纳西拜访几个跟她还有联系的人，所以，她把握一切机会，要改变贝利的想法。
贝利是她的独生子，如今他们住在一起。
贝利搭着椅子的边坐在桌旁，低头聚精会神地看《日报》橙色运动版。
老奶奶说：“贝利，快看，看这儿，读读这段。
”她站在桌子旁边，一只手放在突出的胯骨上，一只手举着报纸，在贝利的秃头上晃来晃去。
“有个人自称‘不合时宜’，从联邦监狱里逃出来了，正逃往弗罗里达，你自己读读这段，看他都干了些什么害人事。
你自己读读。
有这么个罪犯在那边流窜，要是我，肯定不会带孩子往那个方向去，否则我良心上过不去啊。
”贝利继续低头看报，老奶奶於是转身望向儿媳，年轻的儿媳穿着宽松的长裤，脸盘宽得像颗大白菜，面无表情，头上裹了条绿头巾，头顶打的两个结好像一对兔耳朵。
她正坐在沙发上从罐子里拿杏喂怀里的婴儿吃。
老奶奶说：“孩子们之前去过弗罗里达了。
你们应该带他们去别的地方转转，这样他们才能看到不一样的世界，长长见识。
他们可从没去过东田纳西呢。
”孩子的妈妈好像什么也没听见，不过她八岁的儿子约翰·韦斯利说：“你要是不想去弗罗里达，为什么不干脆待在家？”约翰·韦斯利是个戴眼镜的小胖墩，她和妹妹琼·斯塔正趴在地上看连环画。
一头金发的琼·斯塔头也不抬地说：“就算让她当女王，她也不肯自己在家待一天。
”老奶奶问：“要是这个叫不合时宜的家伙把你抓了，你怎么办？”约翰·韦斯利说：“我呼他一巴掌。
”琼·斯塔说：“就算给她一百万，她也不愿待在家。
我们去哪她就得去哪，万一错过什么她得后悔死。
”老奶奶说：“好吧小姐，看你下回让谁给你卷头发！”琼·斯塔说自己的头发是自然卷。
第二天早上，老奶奶第一个上车，整装待发。
她把黑色大旅行袋在角落里放好，那袋子活像河马的脑袋，里面藏了个篮子，装着小猫皮蒂星。
a good man is hard to find
The South is mainly something to ignore, forget,
package in a movie or a monument, or remember with distorted nostalgia.
(Nostalgia (尤指对幸福时光的) 怀旧)
The Misfit: the persistence of what can't be bought, sold, or wholly understood, such as death, grace, and "the South."
2. She was simply again trying to save herself and that her selfishness was never overcome throughout the story.
3. "She said craftily, not telling the truth but wishing that she were".
William Faulkner Flannery O'Connor Carson McCullers Eudora Welty
Characters
Bailey & Bailey’s wife Grandmother John Wesley, June Star The baby Red Sammy & Red Sammy’s wife The Misfit: escaped prisoner who comes across Bailey's family after they have crashed. Hiram, Bobby Lee: Prisoners who escaped with The Misfit. Edgar Atkins Teagarden Pitty Sing Gray Monkey.
A GOOD MAN IS HARD TO FIND 译文
好人难寻[xx]弗兰纳里·xxxx译老奶奶不愿意去佛罗里达州，而想到东田纳西州去探望一下亲友，因此想方设法叫贝雷改变主意。
贝雷是她的独养儿子，老奶奶如今跟着他过日子。
这当儿，贝雷正坐在紧贴桌子旁边的那把椅子上，聚精会神地看报纸上橙色版面的体育消息。
“贝雷，你瞧，”她说，“看看这条消息吧！”她站在那里，一只手叉在瘦小的胯骨上，另一只手冲着贝雷的秃脑瓜子擦拉地摇晃手里的报纸。
“那个自称不合时宜的人，从联邦监狱里逃出来了，正向佛罗里达州窜逃呐。
瞧这里说他对人们都干了些什么鬼名堂。
有这样一个逃犯在州里窜来窜去，我可绝不带孩子还朝那个方向去凑热闹。
要是那样做，良心上说不过去哟！”贝雷依旧津津有味地看报，头连抬都没抬一下。
于是，老奶奶转身冲着孩子妈；孩子妈穿一条长裤子，脸膛宽得象棵圆白菜，露出一副天真无邪的表情，头上裹着一块绿头巾，两角扎得就跟兔子的一对耳朵一样。
她抱着婴儿坐在沙发上，从罐里一勺地舀杏儿喂他。
老奶奶说：“孩子们已经去过佛罗里达州，该换个新鲜地方带他们去玩玩，让她们四处见识，开阔眼界嘛、他们可从来没去过东田纳西州。
”孩子妈好象没听见她的话，戴眼镜的八岁胖儿子约翰·韦斯利却插嘴说：“您要是不愿意去佛罗里达，干吗不呆在家里呢？”他跟妹妹琼·斯塔正坐在地上看滑稽画报。
“就是让她在家里当一天女皇，她也不愿意呆，”琼·斯塔说。
长着金发的脑袋抬也没抬。
“是啊，要是那个不合时宜的人把你们俩都逮住，该怎么办？”“我掴他嘴巴子，”约翰·xx说。
“就是给她一百万块钱，她也不愿意呆在家里，”琼·斯塔又说，“她呀，总怕错过点什么没看见。
反正咱们上哪儿，她必得跟着上哪儿。
”“好咧，小姐，”老奶奶说，“等下回你再叫我给你卷头发，咱们瞧着办吧！”琼?斯塔说自己的头发天然就是鬈曲的。
第二天清晨，老奶奶头一个上了汽车，准备出发。
她带上自己那个硕大的黑旅行袋，把它放在角落里，它看起来活象一头河马的脑袋；下面还藏着一只篮子，里面放着她的老猫咪，她可舍不得把猫孤零零地留在家里呆三天，它会十分想念她的，况且她担心小宝贝会碰开煤气炉的开关，发生意外，窒息而死。
A-Good-Man-is-hard-to-Find(共32张)
第8页，共32页。
Plot
• Briefly, the story depicts the destruction of an altogether too normal family by three escaped convicts. The thematic climax of the story involves an offer of grace and the grandmother's acceptance of that gift as a result of the epiphany she experiences just before her death.
第2页，共32页。
• O'Connor suffered from lupus, an inherited disease, which crippled her and cut short her life, (died at age of 39)and so her creative work was largely compressed within a decade of the 1950's. Her father also dies of Lupus when she was 15 years old. O'Connor is frequently praised as being the most creative and distinctive writer of this period. The two most notable aspects of her fiction are its religious themes and its commentary on the oppressive traditions of the mid-twentiethcentury Deep South.
新编英语小说鉴赏课件AGoodManisHardtoFind
• The Misfit talks with the grandmother, while killing a And he kills the grandmother at last.
Analysis of the story in terms of character
Flannery O’Connor (1925-1964)
Flannery O’Connor
• Born in 1925 in Savannah, Georgia. • Entered Georgia State College for Women, graduated
in June 1945 with a social sciences degree. • Wrote stories out of her Catholic Background. • Died in 1964.
• She warns him about a murderer The Misfit who has escaped from prison. But nobody listens to her.
A Good Man is Hard to Find: Summary
• The grandmother rides with her family to Florida.
aGoodManIsHardToFind
Flannery O’Connor, ‘A Good Man is Hard to Find’ T HE GRANDMOTHER didn’t want to go to Florida. She wanted to visit some of her connections in east Tennessee and she was seizing at every chance to change Bailey’s mind. Bailey was the son she lived with, her only boy. He was sitting on the edge of his chair at the table, bent over the orange sports section of the Journal. “Now look here, Bailey,” she said, “see here, read this,” and she stood with one hand on her thin hip and the other rattling the newspaper at his bald head. “Here this fellow that calls himself The Misfit is aloose from the Federal Pen and headed toward Florida and you read here what it says he did to these people. Just you read it. I wouldn’t take my children in any direction with a criminal like that aloose in it. I couldn’t answer to my conscience if I did.”Bailey didn’t look up from his reading so she wheeled around then and faced the children’s mother, a young woman in slacks, whose face was as broad and innocent as a cabbage and was tied around with a green head-kerchief that had two points on the top like rabbit’s ears. She was sitting on the sofa, feeding the baby his apricots out of a jar. “The children have been to Florida before,” the old lady said. “You all ought to take them somewhere else for a change so they would see different parts of the world and be broad. They never have been to east Tennessee.”The children’s mother didn’t seem to hear her but the eight-year-old boy, John Wesley, a stocky child with glasses, said, “If you don’t want to go to Florida, why dontcha stay at home?” He and the little girl, June Star, were reading the funny papers on the floor.“She wouldn’t stay at home to be queen for a day,” June Star said without raising her yellow head.“Yes and what would you do if this fellow, The Misfit, caught you?” the grandmother asked.“I’d smack his face,” John Wesley said.“She wouldn’t stay at home for a million bucks,” June Star said. “Afraid she’d miss something. She has to go everywhere we go.”“All right, Miss,” the grandmother said. “Just remember that the next time you want me to curl your hair.”June Star said her hair was naturally curly.The next morning the grandmother was the first one in the car, ready to go. She had her big black valise that looked like the head of a hippopotamus in one corner, and underneath it she was hiding a basket with Pitty Sing, the cat, in it. She didn’t intend for the cat to be left alone in the house for three days because he would miss her too much and she was afraid he might brush against one of her gas burners and accidentally asphyxiate himself. Her son, Bailey, didn’t like to arrive at a motel with a cat.She sat in the middle of the back seat with John Wesley and June Star on either side of her. Bailey and the children’s mother and the baby sat in front and they left Atlanta at eight forty-five with the mileage on the car at 55890. The grandmother wrote this down because she thought it would be interesting to say how many miles they had been when they got back. It took them twenty minutes to reach the outskirts of the city.The old lady settled herself comfortably, removing her white cotton gloves and putting them up with her purse on the shelf in front of the back window. The children’s mother still had on slacks and still had her head tied up in a green kerchief, but the grandmother had on a navy blue straw sailor hat with a bunch of white violets on the brim and a navy blue dress with a small white dot in the print. Her collars and cuffs were white organdy trimmed with lace and at her neckline she had pinned a purple spray of cloth violets containing a sachet. In case of an accident, anyone seeing her dead on the highway would know at once that she was a lady.She said she thought it was going to be a good day for driving, neither too hot nor too cold, and she cautioned Bailey that the speed limit was fifty-five miles an hour and that the patrolmen hid themselves behind billboards and small clumps of trees and sped out after you before you had a chance to slow down. She pointed out interesting details of the scenery: Stone Mountain; the blue granite that in some places came up to both sides of the highway; the brilliant red clay banks slightly streaked with purple; and the various crops that made rows of green lace-work on the ground. The trees were full of silver-white sunlight and the meanest of them sparkled. The children were reading comic magazines and their mother and gone back to sleep.“Let’s go through Georgia fast so we won’t have to look at it much,” John Wesley said.“If I were a little boy,” said the grandmother, “I wouldn’t talk about my native state that way. Tennessee has the mountains and Georgia has the hills.”“Tennessee is just a hillbilly dumping ground,” John Wesley said, “and Georgia is a lousy state too.”“You said it,” June Star said.“In my time,” said the grandmother, folding her thin veined fingers, “children were more respectful of their native states and their parents and everything else. People did right then. Oh look at the cute little pickaninny!” she said and pointed to a Negro child standing in the door of a shack. “Wouldn’t that make a picture, now?” she asked and they all turned and looked at the little Negro out of the back window. He waved.“He didn’t have any britches on,” June Star said.“He probably didn’t have any,” the grandmother explained. “Little riggers in the country don’t have things like we do. If I could paint, I’d paint that picture,” she said.The children exchanged comic books.The grandmother offered to hold the baby and the children’s mother passed him over the front seat to her. She set him on her knee and bounced him and told him about the things they were passing. She rolled her eyes and screwed up her mouth and stuck her leathery thin face into his smooth bland one. Occasionally he gave her a faraway smile. They passed a large cotton field with five or fix graves fenced in the middle of it, like a small island. “Look at the graveyard!” the grandmother said, pointing it out. “That was the old family burying ground. That belonged to the plantation.”“Where’s the plantation?” John Wesley asked.“Gone With the Wind,” said the grandmother. “Ha. Ha.”When the children finished all the comic books they had brought, they opened the lunch and ate it. The grandmother ate a peanut butter sandwich and an olive and would not let the children throw the box and the paper napkins out the window. When there was nothing else to do they played a game by choosing a cloud and making the other two guess what shape it suggested. John Wesley took one the shape of a cow and June Star guessed a cow and John Wesley said, no, an automobile, and June Star said he didn’t play fair, and they began to slap each other over the grandmother.The grandmother said she would tell them a story if they would keep quiet. When she told a story, she rolled her eyes and waved her head and was very dramatic. She said once when she was a maiden lady she had been courted by a Mr. Edgar Atkins Teagarden from Jasper, Georgia. She said he was a very good-looking man and a gentleman and that he brought her a watermelon every Saturday afternoon with his initials cut in it, E. A. T. Well, one Saturday, she said, Mr. Teagarden brought the watermelon and there was nobody at home and he left it on the front porch and returned in his buggy to Jasper, but she never got the watermelon, she said, because a nigger boy ate it when he saw the initials, E. A. T. ! This story tickled John Wesley’s funny bone and he giggled and giggled but June Star didn’t think it was any good. She said she wouldn’t marry a man that just brought her a watermelon on Saturday. The grandmother said she would have done well to marry Mr. Teagarden because he was a gentle man and had bought Coca-Cola stock when it first came out and that he had died only a few years ago, a very wealthy man.They stopped at The Tower for barbecued sandwiches. The Tower was a part stucco and part wood filling station and dance hall set in a clearing outside of Timothy. A fat man named Red Sammy Butts ran it and there were signs stuck here and there on the building and for miles up and down the highway saying, TRY RED SAMMY’S FAMOUS BARBECUE. NONE LIKE FAMOUS RED SAMMY’S! RED SAM! THE FAT BOY WITH THE HAPPY LAUGH. A VETERAN! RED SAMMY’S YOUR MAN!Red Sammy was lying on the bare ground outside The Tower with his head under a truck while a gray monkey about a foot high, chained to a small chinaberry tree, chattered nearby. The monkey sprang back into the tree and got on the highest limb as soon as he saw the children jump out of the car and run toward him.Inside, The Tower was a long dark room with a counter at one end and tables at the other and dancing space in the middle. They all sat down at a board table next to the nickelodeon and Red Sam’s wife, a tall burnt-brown woman with hair and eyes lighter than her skin, came and took their order. The children’s mother put a dime in the machine and played “The Tennessee Waltz,” and the grandmother said that tune always made her want to dance. She asked Bailey if he would like to dance but he only glared at her. He didn’t have a naturally sunny disposition like she did and trips made him nervous. The grandmother’s brown eyes were very bright. She swayed her head from side to side and pretended she was dancing in her chair. June Star said play something she could tap to so the children’s mother put in another dime and played a fast number and June Star stepped out onto the dance floor and did her tap routine.“Ain’t she cute?” Red Sam’s wife said, leaning over the counter. “Would you like to come be my little girl?”“No I certainly wouldn’t,” June Star said. “I wouldn’t live in a broken-down place like this for a million bucks!” and she ran back to the table.“Ain’t she cute?” the woman repeated, stretching her mouth politely.“Arn’t you ashamed?” hissed the grandmother.Red Sam came in and told his wife to quit lounging on the counter and hurry up with these people’s order. His khaki trousers reached just to his hip bones and his stomach hung over them like a sack of meal swaying under his shirt. He came over and sat down at a table nearby and let out a combination sigh and yodel. “You can’t win,” he said. “You can’t win,” and he wiped his sweating red face off with a gray handkerchief. “These days you don’t know who to trust,” he said. “Ain’t that the truth?”“People are certainly not nice like they used to be,” said the grandmother.“Two fellers come in here last week,” Red Sammy said, “driving a Chrysler. It was a old beat-up car but it was a good one and these boys looked all right to me. Said they worked at the mill and you know I let them fellers charge the gas they bought? Now why did I do that?”“Because you’re a good man!” the grandmother said at once.“Yes’m, I suppose so,” Red Sam said as if he were struck with this answer.His wife brought the orders, carrying the five plates all at once without a tray, two in each hand and one balanced on her arm. “It isn’t a soul in this green world of God’s that you can trust,” she said. “And I don’t count nobody out of that, not nobody,” she repeated, looking at Red Sammy.“Did you read about that criminal, The Misfit, that’s escaped?” asked the grandmother.“I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if he didn’t attack this place right here,” said the woman. “If he hears about it being here, I wouldn’t be none surprised to see him. If he hears it’s two cent in the cash register, I wouldn’t be a tall surprised if he . . .”“That’ll do,” Red Sam said. “Go bring these people their Co’-Colas,” and the woman went off to get the rest of the order.“A good man is hard to find,” Red Sammy said. “Everything is getting terrible. I remember the day you could go off and leave your screen door unlatched. Not no more.”He and the grandmother discussed better times. The old lady said that in her opinion Europe was entirely to blame for the way things were now. She said the way Europe acted you would think we were made of money and Red Sam said it was no use talking about it, she was exactly right. The children ran outside into the white sunlight and looked at the monkey in the lacy chinaberry tree. He was busy catching fleas on himself and biting each one carefully between his teeth as if it were a delicacy.They drove off again into the hot afternoon. The grandmother took cat naps and woke up every few minutes with her own snoring. Outside of Toombsboro she woke up and recalled an old plantation that she had visited in this neighborhood once when she was a young lady. She said the house had six white columns across the front and that there was an avenue of oaks leading up to it and two little wooden trellis arbors on either side in front where you sat down with your suitor after a stroll in the garden. She recalled exactly which road to turn off to get to it. She knew that Bailey would not be willing to lose any time looking at an old house, but the more she talked about it, the more she wanted to see it once again and find out if the little twin arbors were still standing. “There was a secret panel in this house,” she said craftily, not telling the truth but wishing that she were, “and the story went that all the family silver was hidden in it when Sherman came through but it was never found . . .”“Hey!” John Wesley said. “Let’s go see it! We’ll find it! We’ll poke all the woodwork and find it! Who lives there? Where do you turn off at? Hey Pop, can’t we turn off there?”“We never have seen a house with a secret panel!” June Star shrieked. “Let’s go to the house with the secret panel! Hey Pop, can’t we go see the house with the secret panel!”“It’s not far from here, I know,” the grandmother said. “It wouldn’t take over twenty minutes.”Bailey was looking straight ahead. His jaw was as rigid as a horseshoe. “No,” he said.The children began to yell and scream that they wanted to see the house with the secret panel. John Wesley kicked the back of the front seat and June Star hung over her mother’s shoulder and whined desperately into her ear that they never had any fun even on their vacation, that they could never do what THEY wanted to do. The baby began to scream and John Wesley kicked the back of the seat so hard that his father could feel the blows in his kidney.“All right!” he shouted and drew the car to a stop at the side of the road. “Will you all shut up? Will you all just shut up for one second? If you don’t shut up, we won’t go anywhere.”“It would be very educational for them,” the grandmother murmured.“All right,” Bailey said, “but get this: this is the only time we’re going to stop for anything like this. This is the one and only time.”“The dirt road that you have to turn down is about a mile back,” the grandmother directed. “I marked it when we passed.”“A dirt road,” Bailey groaned.After they had turned around and were headed toward the dirt road, the grandmother recalled other points about the house, the beautiful glass over the front doorway and the candle-lamp in the hall. John Wesley said that the secret panel was probably in the fireplace.“You can’t go inside this house,” Bailey said. “You don’t know who lives there.”“While you all talk to the people in front, I’ll run around behind and get in a window,” John Wesley suggested.“We’ll all stay in the car,” his mother said.They turned onto the dirt road and the car raced roughly along in a swirl of pink dust. The grandmother recalled the times when there were no paved roads and thirty miles was a day’s journey. The dirt road was hilly and there were sudden washes in it and sharp curves on dangerous embankments. All at once they would be on a hill, looking down over the blue tops of trees for miles around, then the next minute, they would be in a red depression with the dust-coated trees looking down on them.“This place had better turn up in a minute,” Bailey said, “or I’m going to turn around.”The road looked as if no one had traveled on it in months.“It’s not much farther,” the grandmother said and just as she said it, a horrible thought came to her. The thought was so embarrassing that she turned red in the face and her eyes dilated and her feet jumped up, upsetting her valise in the corner. The instant the valise moved, the newspaper top she had over the basket under it rose with a snarl and Pitty Sing, the cat, sprang onto Bailey’s shoulder.The children were thrown to the floor and their mother, clutching the baby, was thrown out the door onto the ground; the old lady was thrown into the front seat. The car turned over once and landed right-side-up in a gulch off the side of the road. Bailey remained in the driver’s seat with the cat gray-striped with a broad white face and an orange nose clinging to his neck like a caterpillar.As soon as the children saw they could move their arms and legs, they scrambled out of the car, shouting, “We’ve had an ACCIDENT!” The grandmother was curled up under thedashboard, hoping she was injured so that Bailey’s wrath would not come down on her all at once. The horrible thought she had had before the accident was that the house she had remembered so vividly was not in Georgia but in Tennessee.Bailey removed the cat from his neck with both hands and flung it out the window against the side of a pine tree. Then he got out of the car and started looking for the children’s mother. She was sitting against the side of the red gutted ditch, holding the screaming baby, but she only had a cut down her face and a broken shoulder. “We’ve had an ACCIDENT!” the children screamed in a frenzy of delight.“But nobody’s killed,” June Star said with disappointment as the grandmother limped out of the car, her hat still pinned to her head but the broken front brim standing up at a jaunty angle and the violet spray hanging off the side. They all sat down in the ditch, except the children, to recover from the shock. They were all shaking.“Maybe a car will come along,” said the children’s mother hoarsely.“I believe I have injured an organ,” said the grandmother, pressing her side, but no one answered her. Bailey’s teeth were clattering. He had on a yellow sport shirt with bright blue parrots designed in it and his face was as yellow as the shirt. The grandmother decided that she would not mention that the house was in Tennessee.The road was about ten feet above and they could see only the tops of the trees on the other side of it. Behind the ditch they were sitting in there were more woods, tall and dark and deep. In a few minutes they saw a car some distance away on top of a hill, coming slowly as if the occupants were watching them. The grandmother stood up and waved both arms dramatically to attract their attention. The car continued to come on slowly, disappeared around a bend and appeared again, moving even slower, on top of the hill they had gone over. It was a big black battered hearse-like automobile. There were three men in it.It came to a stop just over them and for some minutes, the driver looked down with a steady expressionless gaze to where they were sitting, and didn’t speak. Then he turned his head and muttered something to the other two and they got out. One was a fat boy in black trousers and a red sweat shirt with a silver stallion embossed on the front of it. He moved around on the right side of them and stood staring, his mouth partly open in a kind of loose grin. The other had on khaki pants and a blue striped coat and a gray hat pulled down very low, hiding most of his face. He came around slowly on the left side. Neither spoke.The driver got out of the car and stood by the side of it, looking down at them. He was an older man than the other two. His hair was just beginning to gray and he wore silver-rimmed spectacles that gave him a scholarly look. He had a long creased face and didn’t have on any shirt or undershirt. He had on blue jeans that were too tight for him and was holding a black hat and a gun. The two boys also had guns.“We’ve had an ACCIDENT!” the children screamed.The grandmother had the peculiar feeling that the bespectacled man was someone she knew. His face was as familiar to her as if she had known him all her life but she could not recall who he was. He moved away from the car and began to come down the embankment, placing his feet carefully so that he wouldn’t slip. He had on tan and white shoes and no socks, and his ankles were red and thin. “Good afternoon,” he said. “I see you all had you a little spill.”“We turned over twice!” said the grandmother.“Oncet”, he corrected. “We seen it happen. Try their car and see will it run, Hiram,” he said quietly to the boy with the gray hat.“What you got that gun for?” John Wesley asked. “Whatcha gonna do with that gun?”“Lady,” the man said to the children’s mother, “would you mind calling them children to sit down by you? Children make me nervous. I want all you all to sit down right together there where you’re at.”“What are you telling US what to do for?” June Star asked.Behind them the line of woods gaped like a dark open mouth. “Come here,” said their mother.“Look here now,” Bailey began suddenly, “we’re in a predicament! We’re in . . .”The grandmother shrieked. She scrambled to her feet and stood staring. “You’re The Misfit!” she said. “I recognized you at once!”“Yes’m,” the man said, smiling slightly as if he were pleased in spite of himself to be known, “but it would have been better for all of you, lady, if you hadn’t of reckernized me.”Bailey turned his head sharply and said something to his mother that shocked even the children. The old lady began to cry and The Misfit reddened.“Lady,” he said, “don’t you get upset. Sometimes a man says things he don’t mean. I don’t reckon he meant to talk to you thataway.”“You wouldn’t shoot a lady, would you?” the grandmother said and removed a clean handkerchief from her cuff and began to slap at her eyes with it.The Misfit pointed the toe of his shoe into the ground and made a little hole and then covered it up again. “I would hate to have to,” he said.“Listen,” the grandmother almost screamed, “I know you’re a good man. You don’t look a bit like you have common blood. I know you must come from nice people!”“Yes mam,” he said, “finest people in the world.” When he smiled he showed a row of strong white teeth. “God never made a finer woman than my mother and my daddy’s heart was pure gold,” he said. The boy with the red sweat shirt had come around behind them and was standing with his gun at his hip. The Misfit squatted down on the ground. “Watch themchildren, Bobby Lee,” he said. “You know they make me nervous.” He looked at the six of them huddled together in front of him and he seemed to be embarrassed as if he couldn’t think of anything to say. “Ain’t a cloud in the sky,” he remarked, looking up at it. “Don’t see no sun but don’t see no cloud neither.”“Yes, it’s a beautiful day,” said the grandmother. “Listen,” she said, “you shouldn’t call yourself The Misfit because I know you’re a good man at heart. I can just look at you and tell.”“Hush!” Bailey yelled. “Hush! Everybody shut up and let me handle this!” He was squatting in the position of a runner about to sprint forward but he didn’t move.“I pre-chate that, lady,” The Misfit said and drew a little circle in the ground with the butt of his gun.“It’ll take a half a hour to fix this here car,” Hiram called, looking over the raised hood of it.“Well, first you and Bobby Lee get him and that little boy to step over yonder with you,” The Misfit said, pointing to Bailey and John Wesley. “The boys want to ast you something,” he said to Bailey. “Would you mind stepping back in them woods there with them?”“Listen,” Bailey began, “we’re in a terrible predicament! Nobody realizes what this is,” and his voice cracked. His eyes were as blue and intense as the parrots in his shirt and he remained perfectly still.The grandmother reached up to adjust her hat brim as if she were going to the woods with him but it came off in her hand. She stood staring at it and after a second she let it fall on the ground. Hiram pulled Bailey up by the arm as if he were assisting an old man. John Wesley caught hold of his father’s hand and Bobby Lee followed. They went off toward the woods and just as they reached the dark edge, Bailey turned and supporting himself against a gray naked pine trunk, he shouted, “I’ll be back in a minute, Mamma, wait on me!”“Come back this instant!” his mother shrilled but they all disappeared into the woods.“Bailey Boy!” the grandmother called in a tragic voice but she found she was looking at The Misfit squatting on the ground in front of her. “I just know you’re a good man,” she said desperately. “You’re not a bit common!”“Nome, I ain’t a good man,” The Misfit said after a second ah if he had considered her statement carefully, “but I ain’t the worst in the world neither. My daddy said I was a different breed of dog from my brothers and sisters. ‘You know,’ Daddy said, ‘it’s some that can live their whole life out without asking about it and it’s others has to know why it is, and this boy is one of the latters. He’s going to be into everything!”‘ He put on his black hat and looked up suddenly and then away deep into the woods as if he were embarrassed again. “I’m sorry I don’t have on a shirt before you ladies,” he said, hunching his shoulders slightly. “We buried our clothes that we had on when we escaped and we’re just making do until we can get better. We borrowed these from some folks we met,” he explained.“That’s perfectly all right,” the grandmother said. “Maybe Bailey has an extra shirt in his suitcase.”“I’ll look and see terrectly,” The Misfit said.“Where are they taking him?” the children’s mother screamed.“Daddy was a card himself,” The Misfit said. “You couldn’t put anything over on him. He never got in trouble with the Authorities though. Just had the knack of handling them.”“You could be honest too if you’d only try,” said the grandmother. “Think how wonderful it would be to settle down and live a comfortable life and not have to think about somebody chasing you all the time.”The Misfit kept scratching in the ground with the butt of his gun as if he were thinking about it. “Yes’m, somebody is always after you,” he murmured.The grandmother noticed how thin his shoulder blades were just behind his hat because she was standing up looking down on him. “Do you every pray?” she asked.He shook his head. All she saw was the black hat wiggle between his shoulder blades. “Nome,” he said.There was a pistol shot from the woods, followed closely by another. Then silence. The old lady’s head jerked around. She could hear the wind move through the tree tops like a long satisfied insuck of breath. “Bailey Boy!” she called.“I was a gospel singer for a while,” The Misfit said. “I been most everything. Been in the arm service both land and sea, at home and abroad, been twict married, been an undertaker, been with the railroads, plowed Mother Earth, been in a tornado, seen a man burnt alive oncet,” and he looked up at the children’s mother and the little girl who were sitting close together, their faces white and their eyes glassy; “I even seen a woman flogged,” he said.“Pray, pray,” the grandmother began, “pray, pray . . .”“I never was a bad boy that I remember of,” The Misfit said in an almost dreamy voice, “but somewheres along the line I done something wrong and got sent to the penitentiary. I was buried alive,” and he looked up and held her attention to him by a steady stare.“That’s when you should have started to pray,” she said. “What did you do to get sent to the penitentiary that first time?”“Turn to the right, it was a wall,” The Misfit said, looking up again at the cloudless sky. “Turn to the left, it was a wall. Look up it was a ceiling, look down it was a floor. I forget what I done, lady. I set there and set there, trying to remember what it was I done and I ain’t recalled it to this day. Oncet in a while, I would think it was coming to me, but it never come.”“Maybe they put you in by mistake,” the old lady said vaguely.。
Analysis of A Good Man Is Hard to Find
Analysis on A Good Man Is Hard to FindAmerican writer Flannery O’Connor particularly acclaimed for her stories which combined comic with tragic and brutal, belonged to the Southern Gothic tradition group that focused on the decaying South. Flannery O'Connor was born in Savannah, Georgia, the only child of a Catholic family. The region was part of the 'Christ-haunted' Bible belt of the Southern States. The spiritual heritage of the region shaped profoundly O'Connor's writing. O'Connor's short stories have been considered her finest work. With A Good Man Is Hard to Find and Other Stories, she came to be regarded as a master of the form. The following passages will devote to a detailed analysis of her famous A Good Man Is Hard to Find.The whole story is connected by a journey in the family car. There are a grandmother, her son and daughter-in-law and their three children. They encounter an escaped criminal called the Misfit and his two killers, Hiram and Bobby Lee. The family is casually wiped out by them when the grandmother recognizes the Misfit from his ''Wanted'' poster. When the hallucinating grandmother murmurs: "Why you're one of my babies. You're one of my own children!", The Misfit shoots her and says: "She would of been a good woman if it had been somebody there to shoot her every minute of her life." At first, it may be difficult to follow O'Connor's train of thought as to where she was headed in her stories. However, upon a second and even a third glance, the almost hidden themes and meanings behind the stories appeared and the readers are presented with a very vivid picture of Southern life, religion, and just life in general. O'Connor explores human nature and the turns it can take. The religious undertones emphasize her beliefs that man cannot save himself by relying upon the arm of flesh.The most outstanding character in this story is the grandmother, and since the story is told from the third person omniscient view, it will be easy for us to analyze the grandmother’s character. She connects the other characters together throughout the story with her own selfishness and stupidity. As the story opens, the scene is set in the home of a man named Bailey and his family which consists of his mother (the grandmother), his wife and their two children—June Star and John Wesley. Bailey is planning a trip to Florida, but the grandmother would rather go to Tennessee. We see the first sign of the grandmother’s selfishness here when she tries to convince her son, Bailey, to take the family to Tennessee. She does her persuasion through a newspaper article which says that a convict called The Misfit has escaped from the FederalPenitentiary. The references to the possibility of the grandmother's cat’s dying (noticing the five or six graves in a field) suggests that if she leaves it at home, it may avoid a highway accident, which reveals the stupidity of the grandmother. The Misfit is as important a character as the grandmother but with more strangeness. At the beginning of the story, we learn about the grandmother that "Bailey was the son she lived with," suggesting the possibility of another son. Later she stands over her son's balding head with "one hand on her thin hip and the other rattling the newspaper" and warns him about The Misfit. Besides, The Misfit is called Misfit because O'Connor wants to show that The Misfit's tendency to take things literally is the theological heart of the problem. He has a depth of experience as shown in his listing of occupations--gospel singing, undertaking, plowing "Mother Earth," being in a tornado, seeing a man burnt and a woman flogged--that goes far beyond the banal experience of his victims. Sensitive and psychotic, he has the spiritual insight to recognize that true belief throws "everything off balance" (p. 1894), just as we, the readers, are thrown off balance by what we see happen.To make the story vivid and description lifelike, O’Connor has dialogue description dominating the whole story and proper scenery description is also adopted as indispensable element. A good amount of dialogue is employed in order to connect the whole journey and to drive forward the development of the plot as well as to reveal the personality of each character. The story also ends with a dialogue between The Misfit and Bobby Lee:“She would of been a good woman," The Misfit said, "if it hadbeen somebody there to shoot her every minute of her life.""Some fun!" Bobby Lee said."Shut up, Bobby Lee" The Misfit said. "It's no real pleasure in life."Through the dialogue, we see a desperate creature compelled to kill people under his unconsciousness. And such brutal behavior is ironically covered with philosophical thinking and a gradual realization of life. Scenery description also devotes to the depiction of a decaying South:Outside of Toombsboro she woke up and recalled an old plantationthat she had visited in this neighborhood once when she was ayoung lady. She said the house had six white columns across thefront and that there was an avenue of oaks leading up to it and twolittle wooden trellis arbors on either side in front where you satdown with your suitor after a stroll in the garden.This is a traditional description of the South in which old plantation and oaks are the traditional images of the old South. However, the name of Toombsboro reminds the readers of a big somber tomb. Similarly, the "burnt brown" owner's wife, the flea-catching monkey, and the animal guard all are reminders of a Dante-Inferno landscape. The scenery description provides a mood that the family is doomed to come to an end of their lives and that no life is supposed to make a living in such environment.O’Connor employs several of figures of speech among which symbolism and repetition are outstanding elements. The grandmother keeps throwing the name of Jesus at The Misfit, but her persuasion turns to be a failure on The Misfit. The Misfit’s need for verification traps him in an inadequate "rational" view of the world. There is a symbol of religion by presenting the image of Jesus. O'Connor lets the children reiterate their own delight in having had an ACCIDENT precisely because, one suspects, she would have us understand that there are no accidents in God's plan. Besides, the title of this story symbolizes the whole process of life, but life can be finished simply because of an accident. There is belief during one’s life, but what we see in this story is the destruction of such religious belief. Moreover, the repetition of “a good man is hard to find”suggests a troubled society and the difficulty of establishing a belief and trust among people. It also comes up with the question: what is a “good man”. A good man truly is hard to find, but perhaps that is the point. O’Connor’s religious background becomes apparent as the reader continually sees the lives of her characters ruined because they tried to rely too heavily upon the mortal things and became engulfed in pride.A Good Man Is Hard To Find is a deceptively easily read story which may make readers laugh and laugh, for O'Connor captures a certain essence of southern life as few people have. But in the midst of the laughter, if we read carefully, we also realize that the story invites debate about the meaning of "a good man," about the meaning of the events with which it includes, and about the meaning of our existence in the universe.。
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比目鱼：奥康纳为何如此“邪恶”？评《好人难寻》1957年，诗人兼文学评论家T. S. 艾略特读到一本名叫《好人难寻》（A Good Man Is Ha rd to Find and Other Stories）的短篇小说集，作者是一位崭露头角的美国南方女作家，名叫弗兰纳里·奥康纳（Flannery O'Connor）。
这本书里有几篇小说让艾略特感到“毛骨悚然”，在写给友人的信中，他这样评价这位文学新人：“可以肯定，此人身上有一种奇异的天赋，才艺当属一流，可是我的神经不够坚强，实在承受不了太多这样的搅扰。
”如今，奥康纳已经去世四十多年，《好人难寻》中收录的几篇小说已经成为美国文学的经典，此书的中译本已于今年出版。
对奥康纳的小说感到惊愕的绝不止艾略特一人。
“邪恶”——这两个字不但是《好人难寻》中译本腰封上最惹人注目的字眼，也是一段时间以来不少国内读者提及奥康纳时最偏爱的形容词。
人们谈论奥康纳的“邪恶”时大概有两层意思：一是她塑造的人物往往道德败坏、行为邪恶；另一层意思是说这位作家本身可谓邪恶——她似乎极度冷血，写的故事充满暴力，经常安排弱者惨遭厄运，对笔下的人物没有丝毫同情：在标题小说《好人难寻》中，一家老少六口开车出门旅行，不料遭遇三个在逃的歹徒，全家人惨死路边，无一幸免；小说《河》写一个三四岁的城里男孩被保姆带到城外河边参观布道，还接受了洗礼，次日，男孩只身跑到河边，想要亲身实践“在生命的深河里漂流，进入基督之国”（前日牧师所言），却被河水无情地吞没；《救人就是救自己》讲一位老妇人把自己的智障女儿嫁给了一个看上去好心而且能干的流浪汉，流浪汉修好了老妇人家里熄火多年的旧车，说要携妻子驾车出游，却在途中将智障的妻子丢下，独自开着骗到手的汽车一去不归。
阅读这些小说，读者很容易得出这样的结论：奥康纳想要展示的是道德的沦丧、人性的丑陋、上帝的隐退、宗教的无能。
这些故事几乎都止于悲剧或者不幸，少有“光明”的结尾——看来这位作家不仅邪恶，而且相当悲观。
奥康纳为何如此“邪恶”？为了找出答案，我们有必要去了解她的生平、关注她的言论、搜寻对她作品的各种评论和解读。
随着线索的不断积累，问题的答案未必能被找出，但原来的结论却很可能被彻底推翻。
我们可能会惊奇地发现：原来自己一直在“误读”奥康纳，很多困惑得以消除，可是新的困惑又接踵而来……对于理解奥康纳的小说，“邪恶”并不是最合适的关键词。
假如我们非要使用关键词来标注这位作家，那么另外两个可能更为贴切：一个是“南方”，一个是“天主教”。
奥康纳于1925年生于美国南方的佐治亚州，在那里读完了中学和大学本科，并对写作产生了兴趣。
当她于1946年去著名的“爱荷华作家工作室”进修写作时，她的南方口音如此浓重，以至于初次和导师面谈时导师不得不让她把想要说的话全都写在纸上。
早在奥康纳十五岁时，她的父亲因为染上红斑狼疮而过早辞世，而她本人在二十六岁时也被确诊染上同一种病，据说只能再活五年。
为了养病，奥康纳回到南方的故乡，和母亲一起在佐治亚州的农场生活，一直坚持写作，还饲养了上百只孔雀（《好人难寻》中译本的封面图案是一支孔雀翎）。
她终生未婚，三十九岁去世。
奥康纳一生写了两部长篇小说——《智血》（Wise Blood）和《暴力夺取》（The Vio lent Bear It Away），以及三十多篇短篇小说，这些短篇收在《好人难寻》、《上升的一切必将汇合》（Everything That Rises Must Converge）和《短篇小说全集》（The Comp lete Stories）中。
奥康纳在作品中描绘了美国南方的风物。
《好人难寻》中的故事大部分发生在南部的乡下，其中至少有四篇小说的主要人物是一对生活在农场上的母女（丧偶、守旧的老妇人和她性格孤僻的女儿），这些人物身上大概有奥康纳和她母亲的影子。
奥康纳笔下人物的言谈举止都带有南方特色，尤其是人物的对话，如果有机会阅读英文版，读者可能会从很多对话中读出美国南方口音，比如《善良的乡下人》中的圣经推销员说：“You ain't said you lo ved me none.”（“你还没说你爱我呢。
”）、“I just want to know if you love me or don'tcher?”（“我只想知道你是不是爱我。
”）奥康纳的小说常被归类于“南方哥特式小说”（Southern Gothic）。
这一流派是哥特小说在美国的分支，开山鼻祖包括十九世纪的爱伦·坡、霍桑和安布鲁斯·毕尔斯等人。
在上世纪二三十年代，威廉·福克纳对此风格加以创新，使之重新流行，之后更有田纳西·威廉姆斯、杜鲁门·卡波特、考麦克·麦卡锡、卡森·麦卡勒斯和奥康纳等人被评论家一并归入这一流派之列。
和传统的哥特小说相似，“南方哥特式小说”常常弥漫着恐怖、荒凉、神秘、腐朽的气息，情节中也不乏暴力、邪恶、阴暗、离奇的成分。
然而，从福克纳开始，这些作家开始更多地关注现实，他们借用这种小说形式来反映美国南部的种族歧视、贫困、愚昧、暴力等社会问题。
“南方哥特式小说”最显著的特征之一就是“怪诞”：出场的人物往往外形古怪、性格反常、行为乖张；故事的发生地往往破落、封闭、充满不祥之兆；故事情节往往荒诞、离奇，甚至充满暴力。
这些特点在小说集《好人难寻》中都有所表现。
这本书中经常出现躯体或身心有残缺的“畸人”：《救人就是救自己》的主人公是只有半截胳膊的流浪汉，他的妻子是天生智障；《圣灵所宿之处》中出现了一个阴阳人；《善良的乡下人》的女主人公安着一条木制假腿。
暴力和不幸事件在书中反复出现：残杀、溺水、大火、猝死、抢劫、车祸，等等。
《好人难寻》一书收有十篇小说，全书共有十人死亡，平均每篇小说死掉一个。
对于这些夸张的写法，奥康纳解释说：“对于耳背的人，你得大声喊叫他才能听见；对于接近失明的人，你得把人物画得大而惊人他才能看清。
”奥康纳于1950年代出现在美国文坛后，她的才华立刻受到了评论界的肯定。
然而，有很长一段时间，对奥康纳小说的解读止步于“南方哥特式小说”，不论是文学评论家还是普通读者，几乎没有人觉得这些小说除了表现人性的阴暗以及偶尔触及一些南方社会问题之外还有其他任何深意。
随着时间的推移，人们开始注意到，奥康纳本人是一位虔诚的罗马天主教徒，她的小说似乎与宗教有关。
奥康纳去世后，她的一本随笔集和一本书信集相继出版，在这两本书收录的文字中，奥康纳不但清楚无误地表明了她本人的宗教信仰以及宗教在她作品中至关重要的作用，而且还对她自己的一些小说做了详细的解读。
于是，读者和评论家们发现：几乎奥康纳的每部作品都有宗教含义，而自己长久以来对她的那些小说的理解几乎可以说是“误读”。
奥康纳出生、成长于天主教家庭，她一生都坚定地信仰天主教，似乎没有经历过任何信仰危机。
她说：“我是站在基督教正统教派的立场上看世界的。
这意味着，对我来说，人生的意义集中于基督对我们的救赎，世间万物在我的眼里无不与此有关。
”然而，读者难免对此心存疑惑。
一般人会认为，宗教小说家写的小说肯定充满宗教色彩，要么是为了证明作者的信仰，要么是为了呼唤读者对这种信仰的热情；即使不那么直露，至少也会通过小说让读者对其信仰产生一些好感。
可是，读奥康纳的小说，我们不但很少发现这方面的尝试，而且读后的效果往往恰恰相反。
小说集《好人难寻》中多次出现牧师、圣经、修道院、洗礼等和宗教有关的事物，可是它们常常以负面形象出现，甚至往往导致厄运。
例如：面对歹徒，小说《好人难寻》中的老妇人最后试图借助宗教的力量来感化对方，结果却遭了三枪一命呜呼；《河》中那位牧师充满隐喻的布道恰恰是导致小主人公最后溺死的原因……难道奥康纳指望人们读了这些故事之后受到感化进而皈依天主教吗？事实上，奥康纳的小说在早期甚至遭到过来自宗教媒体的批评，一篇刊登在天主教杂志上的评论指责她的小说是“对《圣经》的粗暴否定”。
然而，在奥康纳看来，小说绝不应该是宗教的宣传品。
受法国天主教哲学家雅克·马里坦（Jacques Maritain）的影响，她坚持认为：严肃的天主教小说家并不需要承担在作品中宣扬宗教的义务。
她说，小说家“不应该为了迎合抽象的真理而去改变或扭曲现实”，“如果作品在完成后让人感觉作者采用欺诈的手段篡改、忽略或扼杀了相关的情节，那么不论作者的初衷如何，结果只会事与愿违”。
在美国南部，大部分基督徒信奉的是新教，而非奥康纳信仰的天主教。
在她眼中，南方的宗教是一种缺乏正统教义指导、时常盲目地自作主张、让人感觉“既痛苦又感动，还有些狰狞滑稽”的宗教。
所以，从奥康纳的小说里可以读出作者对南方新教徒的某些讥讽。
既然绝非宗教宣传品，那么，出自这位天主教作家的那些貌似“邪恶”的小说到底在试图向读者传递些什么呢？假如作者保持沉默，这个问题大概一直难以得出定论。
好在奥康纳本人对此给出了清晰的答案，她告诉我们：“我的小说的主题就是：上帝的恩惠出现在魔鬼操纵的领地。
”又说：“每一篇出色的小说里都有这样一个瞬间：你可以感觉到，天惠就在眼前，它在等待被人接受或者遭到拒绝。
”在这里，奥康纳向我们提供了一把理解她的小说的钥匙，这把钥匙上刻着“天惠时刻”（Moment of Grace）这几个字。
在她的小说里，尽管大部分时间故事里的人物都被堕落、自私、愚昧、自负、欺骗或冷漠所掌控，但是，总有那么一个时刻（往往在接近小说结尾处），奥康纳会安排上帝的恩惠（或曰天惠）降临到他们身上。
在这圣灵显现的一瞬间，这些人物突然受到某种精神上的启迪，进而达到某种“顿悟”，他们也许会接受这一天惠，也许会拒绝它，但不管怎样，这一灵光闪现的“天惠时刻”会使他们的内心发生改变。
这一时刻又是如何到来的呢？面对这个问题，奥康纳又将另一把钥匙递到我们手中，这一把钥匙上刻着的字是“暴力”。
她说：“我发现，暴力具有一种奇异的功效，它能使我笔下的人物重新面对现实，并为他们接受天惠时刻的到来做好准备。
”手握来自奥康纳的两把钥匙，让我们试着打开通向她的小说核心的大门。
有必要事先声明：这扇门并不通向我们以往常走的那条路，我们也未必从心底里完全接受这条路线图，可是，既然我们对钥匙的主人如此感兴趣，那么为什么不按照她指引的方向走上一遭呢？《好人难寻》是奥康纳最著名的短篇小说。
故事分成两部分：前一部分写一家六口人驾车去佛罗里达旅行。
老太太显然是故事的主角。
我们不难发现，这位老太太有点儿自我中心，还爱打小算盘：为了去见老熟人，她想方设法劝一家人改变原来的计划去东田纳西；因为不舍得丢下猫咪，她偷偷把它藏在篮子里带上了车；想去看看年轻时到过的一座种植园，她就骗全家人说那座宅子里暗藏财宝；自己踢翻了藏猫的篮子导致车翻进沟里，她却忙说自己受了内伤，以求获得同情、不受责难。