Response 2

Alora Young
Introduction to Writing and Literature - Response 2
9/29/09

Fantasy vs. Realism

Humans have always had a fascination with the fantastic. This is evident from the earliest known oral tales and literatures – all seem to include divine gods, sorcery, obvious scientific impossibilities, or utter improbabilities. All of the readings this week were stories based in the real world, but that didn’t necessarily make them ‘realistic’. ‘The Father’s Blessing’ had obvious elements of fantasy, while ‘The Caretaker’ was clearly realism.

‘The Father’s Blessing’ seemed at first to be wholly set in reality, and then some odd things started happening. After he tried to convince a newlywed couple to have their last rites, “even [bringing his] friend the undertaker with [him]”, I thought perhaps our priest protagonist was just slightly mentally unstable. As the story continued, however, the story just got more and more strange. I had no idea the significance of what happened in the final couple scenes. I had to assume it was symbolic, but I couldn’t seem to work my way past what actually happened in the story to even begin to figure out what in the world something like that is symbolic for.

After our class discussion, I see that Mary Caponegro intended this entirely – we aren’t supposed to understand what is happening because neither does the Father. Once I understood, I appreciated that it was a clever technique, and a refreshing use of the fantastic in what had initially appeared to be realism.

‘The Caretaker’, on the other hand, was almost too real at times. It just seemed to get worse and worse for our protagonist Joseph, and for the world around him. The imagery used when explaining the guerrilla warfare was graphic, sickening: “terrorists in football cleats trampling the bellies of pregnant women.” It is made worse by the fact that it reminds you, yes, humans are capable of things like this, and yes, things like this do really happen. A lot. Joseph loses everything multiple times; he goes through so much, and all we want is a happy ending for him. What we’re given, though, is too real to make us feel the relief of closure. “Home, she signs. You are going home.” The words themselves sound comforting, but we know that he has hardly a home to go to. If his house has survived the war, it’s not as if his mother is there anymore. Or if death, perhaps is his home, that is equally depressing.