Grant's Change in Mindset Regarding His Ongoing Meetings with Jefferson

Throughout the first part of Ernest J. Gaines' A Lesson Before Dying, it is fairly evident that our protagonist, Grant Wiggins, is very reluctant to perform the task given to him early on in the novel. Grant's aunt and Miss Emma request that Grant go to visit Miss Emma's godson Jefferson, who is on death row, in jail and turn him into a man. Grant's initial reaction to hearing of his task is not very enthusiastic, as he would rather completely avoid the emotionally loaded dynamic of the heartbroken godmother who wants to save her son and the condemned-to-death son who rejects the outside world upon being convicted. Despite Grant's strong desire to avoid Jefferson and the apparent stoicism he exhibits upon hearing Miss Emma's request, he is forced to visit Jefferson on account of his aunt's persistence, and reluctantly complies. At a superficial level, it seems very contradictory that Miss Emma is so fixated upon Grant visiting Jefferson when Grant himself has no desire to see him in the first place. In fact, Grant's only connection to Jefferson is that he was his teacher at one point, and it is only out of deference to his aunt and Miss Emma that he agrees to visiting him. Keeping this notion in mind, it makes sense that Grant isn't as invested in changing Jefferson's disposition to turn the young boy into a man, evident by the ease at which he lies to both his aunt and Miss Emma whenever he is asked how the visits are going. In spite of this, Miss Emma continues to request that Grant visit Jefferson, and remarkably, after several visits, Grant begins to form a substantial bond with him. While it seems foolish that Miss Emma and Tante Lou are so obstinate in their insistence that Grant be the one to visit Jefferson, their reasoning for doing so is actually similar to Grant's reason for suddenly investing time in Jefferson, as both parties believe that with Grant's help, Jefferson has greatest chance of breaking the cycle of stagnation that has been plaguing their community--one that Grant describes black men have been stuck in for centuries.

We can discern Miss Emma and Tante Lou's reasoning behind having Grant visit Jefferson in a scene that surprisingly involves neither of them: the scene between Grant and Vivian in the Rainbow Club just after they leave Miss Emma's house. Jefferson's words to Vivian about the desires and goals for black men in his society align very closely with what Miss Emma wants from Jefferson: "No, she wants memories, memories of him standing like a man. Oh, she will meet him soon, and she knows that. But she wants memories, if only for a day, an hour, here on earth [...] So each time a male child is born, they hope he will be the one to change this vicious circle--which he never does" (166-167). We can see from Grant's response that Miss Emma doesn't simply want Jefferson to be "saved" by religion, but wants to be able to have the peace of mind of knowing that her godson died standing up to the authority, rather than crawling and whimpering to the electric chair as a hog would. Grant makes the point that no one has yet broken the cycle that black men are born into, and underscores the difficulty of escaping it due to the many black men in the past who have tried to elude it and failed. Even thought Grant is initially reluctant to visit Jefferson, Miss Emma knows that Grant is one of the few black men in her community that has at least partially escaped the cycle, not running away and not living as a broken man, but rather going off to college and coming back with the respectable profession as a teacher. By having Grant visit and speak to Jefferson, she hopes that he will be able to convince Jefferson that his image is still worth living for, and that he can be one of the few to escape the cycle simply by acting respectably and like a man in his final moments.

Grant's desire all along is to be able to stand up to the white authority figures and break the cycle fully, but finds it difficult to successfully do so considering the heavily loaded racial circumstances in his community. When Grant speaks to Jefferson during their walk around the dayroom, he explains to Jefferson how he can break the cycle: "White people believe that they're better than anyone else on earth--and that's a myth. [...] Please listen to me, because I would not lie to you now. I speak from my heart. You have the chance of being bigger than anyone who has ever lived on his plantation or come to this little town. You can do it if you try" (192-193). Grant believes that because of Jefferson's situation of getting executed on a set date regardless of his actions, he is in a unique position to stand up to the authority and break out of the cycle that black men have suffered through for so long with practically no consequences--simply by acting dignified. Grant's sees an opportunity to escape the system through Jefferson that he can't replicate in his own life, as his intention is for Jefferson to appear as respectable as possible up until the point of his execution so that the white power structure will look ruthless and unjust when it takes the life of such a calm and composed young man. It's almost as if Grant is funneling his desires for himself and what he wishes he could do through Jefferson, reasoning that he will be satisfied if he can convince Jefferson to seize the opportunity and provide for the community what no one before had the opportunity to do. If Jefferson can show humanity in his final moments, Grant will be content and will have succeeded in breaking the "myth" that white people believe and debunking the theory of the cycle which his teacher, Matthew Antoine, condemned all black men to, ultimately shedding light on the corruptness of the entire system.

Reliability of Narration and Cash's Transformation

In a novel as initially disorienting as William Faulkner's As I Lay Dying, the reader is placed in a precarious situation of scrambling to find a reliable narrator to align with, identifying this person as the hero of the novel as soon as possible. The multiple narrators and lack of a distinct narrator throughout the majority of the book cause us to take a very apprehensive approach to reading, as we can't really trust anything that the narrators proclaim without a clear-cut hero. Of the characters who narrate in the first section of the book, it seems that Darl is the most prominent and sensible narrator, as he narrates with the least amount of emotion in his words when compared to the rest of his family, and his pseudo-psychic omniscient way of narrating make him out to have an eagle eye view of the events occurring at any point in time within the Bundren family. Even Cora, who seems to be the other narrator in the first half of the book who is the most rational, vouches for Darl at several points throughout the novel, giving us more reason to align with him and trust his narration. Despite the consistency of his narration and calm manner in doing so, we are still reluctant to define Darl as the hero of the story, as his complete inactivity in virtually all of the Bundrens' quests, coupled with his unique style of narration, make him appear distant in comparison to the rest of his family. The most striking difference in narration styles from the beginning of the novel to the end is in the frequency and complexity of Cash's chapters. While he starts off as a seemingly incapable member of the family, acting very stoically and pouring his emotions into his work (rather than expressing them to the reader through narration), Cash seems like the most sensible narrator at the end of the novel, speaking clearly and simply to the reader about the events occurring and grappling with these philosophical questions of sanity and who's to judge it in response to Darl being taken away to Jackson.

With Darl essentially declared insane towards the end of the novel, we as readers experience a sort of mini-disillusionment, as we are forced to throw out any preconceptions of other characters that we may have gleaned through Darl's perspective and instead search for another reliable narrator. Interestingly, the one rational narrator that we can observe at the end of the novel comes in a place that we are unlikely to look: Cash. Considering what we know about Cash from the first half of the novel, he seems to be dealing with Addie's death by essentially shutting down emotionally, only speaking in straightforward ways whenever he is consulted in the family. When it comes to his narration, his case for being the most reliable narrator is hard to accept at first. In his first few chapters of narration, Cash is barely able to put together sentences and finish his thoughts, as his chapters of narration frequently break off mid-sentence as if Cash is unable to get across what he is trying to say. It seems that Addie's death hit Cash hard, as it did the rest of the family, and Cash's way of coping is by pouring himself into his work on the coffin--constantly obsessing over it in a near perfection-driven manner. Rather than explain the events that are occurring in the Bundren family or simply know everything that's going on like Darl, Cash focuses on the more simple details, such as his chapter narrating on the balance of Addie's coffin: "It wasn't on a balance. I told them that if they wanted it to tote and ride on a balance, they would have to" (165). Cash focuses solely on his work so that he doesn't have to accept his mothers death, forcing himself to think only about the intricacies of the coffin, such as the balance, the small holes that he painstakingly fills, and the glob of dirt that falls on it when the family is en route to Jefferson. This is what explains his difficulty narrating, as his already stoic disposition, coupled with his outward passivity in response to Addie's death, makes it hard for him to communicate his emotions to the reader.

Later in the novel, however, Cash narration becomes a lot crisper and logically sound, as it seems that our image of him is heavily strengthened by Darl's declared insanity. From a sheer numerical standpoint, Cash narrates much more frequently later in the novel when compared to the first half. In addition, the chapters that he narrates have a lot more substance to them, as opposed to the one or two line chapters--perhaps more appropriately deemed incomplete thoughts--that are present in the beginning of the novel. Rather than focusing so heavily on the nuances and mechanics of the coffin, Cash stars to widen his range of narration and speak about the other characters in the book. It is the manner in which he does this that provides such a stark contrast to his coffin-talk in the beginning of the book. The most prominent example of Cash's newfound narration technique is when he struggles to understand the reasoning behind Darl's identification as "insane": "Sometimes I aint so sho who's got ere a right to say when a man is crazy and when he aint. Sometimes I think it aint none of us pure crazy and aint none of us pure sane until the balance of us talks him that-a-way. It's like it aint so much what a fellow does, but it's the way the majority of folks is looking at him when he does it" (233). When contemplating the concept of sanity and who is allowed to judge it, Cash evaluates the concept very sensibly and speaks in an inquisitive manner--characteristics that make his curiosity seem genuine and warranted. Rather than launch into an emotional frenzy and immediately refute Darl being taken away or completely shut down emotionally like he did following Addie's death, Cash exudes pragmatism in his last few chapters of narration, struggling with the logic behind the decision to declare Darl as insane and whether any man has the right to do so in the first place. Cash even narrates the last chapter of the book, possibly speaking to how his new way of narration and perspective in the novel is seen as an end-all-be-all to the tumultuous events of the Bundren family's journey--something that the other characters were never able to achieve in their own narration.