Flannery O'Connor: Fiction as Theological Parable Senior Paper Presented in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements For a Degree Bachelor of Arts with A Major in Literature at The University of North Carolina at Asheville Fall 2008 By Halley Thompson Thesis Dr. Deborah James Thesis Advisor Dr. Michael Gillum Flannery O'Connor: Fiction as Theological Parable Halley Thompson Fall 2008 Dr. Deborah James, Thesis Director Dr. Michael Gillum, Thesis Advisor Flannery O'Connor: Fiction as Theological Parable Flannery O'Connor wrote over two dozen short stories and two novels in her short lifetime. In addition, O'Connor also wrote at length about her fiction. Her nonfiction—letters, essays, and lectures—display an insistence on correct interpretation; these works contend that there is only one true meaning of her fiction work. While many writers are unconcerned with interpretation, even eliciting reader response through the intentionally vague, O'Connor's nonfiction offers itself as a guide to interpreting her fiction. In reading her nonfiction, it becomes clear that she intends to guide the reader to find divine mystery, or religious inspiration. Because of this religious intent and structure in her work, O'Connor's fiction seems to mimic the form of parable. Parable, in the theological sense, is an attempt to relate a religious meaning through the vehicle of a metaphor which implies a higher meaning within the use of a commonplace, or realistic tale. Violence in O'Connor's writing, a central theme in much of the body of criticism about her work, is simply a device used by O'Connor to create what theologian Sallie TeSelle calls the "crack" in a parable—the extraordinary or shocking turn a story takes which indicates to the reader the presence of the divine. TeSelle's concept of parable as spiritual communication allows for analysis of O'Connor's works in relation to biblical parables. O'Connor's fiction is structured as TeSelle suggests a parable ought to be, each work combining aspects of the secular and religious worlds. Flannery O'Connor was well aware of the critical trends of her time. She knew that New Critics who read her work would look at the text in itself, out of the context of her other writing, or her religious background. A prominent New Critic, W.K. Wimsatt wrote in his work, "The Intentional Fallacy," that "the design or intention of the author is neither available nor desirable as a standard for judging the success of a work of literary art" (Wimsatt, 468). But, O'Connor made her intent well known in a conscious effort to defend it, and while it might not be useful as judgement for her fiction's success, it should play a large role in analyzing meaning. Ted Spivey, in "Flannery O'Connor, the New Criticism, and Deconstruction," writes about O'Connor in relation to her understanding of New Criticism, The New Critics, of course, minimized the role of biographical facts in criticism, but unless one understands O'Connor's involvement in intellectual concerns and influences on her work stemming from a variety of texts, there is danger that she will be seen as no more than a writer in the southern Gothic tradition, or, at best, as a novelist of manners who gave a Gothic twist to social satire. (Spivey, 274) Spivey indicates that since O'Connor was aware of the dominance of New Criticism in her lifetime, she actively wrote about her work to deflect such interpretations. In his article, "Flannery O'Connor's Quest for a Critic," he writes about his correspondence with O'Connor and her concern with finding a critic to correctly interpret her works. O'Connor believed that if a New Critical understanding was perpetuated, her works were likely to miss their mark. In reading her work as Christian, this essay joins by far the largest sector of criticism about O'Connor's fiction. Religious criticism of O'Connor's fiction ranges from allegorical interpretation to attempts to explain symbolism, to wider readings about redemption and grace. Critics often attempt to reconcile the quantity of violence in O'Connor's works by its redemptive quality. Betsy Bolton, in 1997, wrote one such response relating a character's capacity for violence as relative to his necessity for saving grace (91). Rose Bowen, in her 1985 article "Baptism by Inversion" argues that violence serves as an allegory to baptism, and that the grace offered after the inverted baptism is similar to grace given to a participant in a baptismal rite (98). Arthur F. Kinney writes of O'Connor's grace, ". [it] is an early stage of cognizance—what Augustine calls the "divine imprint" on the soul that is a kind of homing instinct, a sense of vocation whether accepted or not. ." (78). Anne Marie Mallon, Mary Buzan, and Thelma Shinn all view grace and religion through the specific acts of characters in O'Connor's stories. Few critics, however, examine authorial intent as specifically aimed at the conversion of the reader. We know that this is O'Connor's purpose. O'Connor writes in a letter to a friend that, "My audience are the people who think God is dead. At least these are the people I am conscious of writing for" (HB, 92). Utilizing the work of TeSelle, this paper seeks to examine O'Connor's stories as parables through analysis and comparison to the parables of Jesus. In her nonfiction—her essays, lectures, and letters—O'Connor repeatedly insists that forefront in her work and her life is a Christian world view, a view which expands beyond life in the body, into the life of the eternal soul. She writes, I see from the standpoint of Christian orthodoxy. This means that for me the meaning of life is centered around our Redemption by Christ and that what I see in the world I see in its relation to that. I don't think that this is a position that can be taken half-way or one that is particularly easy in these times to make transparent in fiction. (MM, 32) Reading deeper into her correspondences, lectures, and essays, a devout image is revealed. O'Connor wrote time and again about her intent. Letter after letter, she defended her Christian characters. In essays, she spoke of herself as a Christian writer. O'Connor studied theology and regularly attended mass. Recognizing that O'Connor wrote to a secular audience from a Christian perspective, it seems somewhat foolish to disregard authorial intent of the work. As Spivey suggested, many readers respond to O'Connor's fiction by labeling it Southern Gothic. Inclusion in this body of work means that O'Connor uses irony, dark comedy, grotesquery and violence to explore the changing social situation of the American South. While this is true of O'Connor's fiction, it only scrapes the surface of her intent for her stories. Social concerns, manners, and morals are secondary to her concern with spiritual insights. New readers grapple with the apparent disconnect formed by their understanding of O'Connor as devoutly Catholic and the presence of what might be seen as gratuitous violence in her work. She uses violence in her writing to create opportunity for grace. She wrote of her characters, . [I]n my own stories I have found that violence is strangely capable of returning [them] to reality and preparing them to accept their moment of grace. Their heads are so hard that almost nothing else will do the work. This idea, that reality is something to which we must be returned at considerable cost, is one which is seldom understood by the casual reader, but it is one which is implicit to the Christian view of the world. (MM, 112) This opportunity comes to characters who, like her readers, are often without faith, through purposely shocking, appalling violent acts. O'Connor uses this device to call attention to what she sees as lacking in the secular and quotidian world through her stories, and relates it to the reader. O'Connor's writing is intended specifically for the nonbelievers, with the intent of creating a realization of disharmony in reason. This disharmony is the "crack" in the commonplace which signifies divine mystery. O'Connor's intent, using her writing to share her religion with the larger community of nonbelievers, could then be seen as near prophetic. The opportunity for grace through the vehicle of violence in this context might clearly indicate O'Connor's concern with the salvation of souls, despite her seemingly detached narration. Violence done to the fictional bodies of O'Connor's characters is justified by salvation from spiritual violence for the souls of her readers and somehow loses its more shocking qualities. Her fiction, then, beyond being interpreted as Christian, would seem to acquire the likeness of parable, with the direct intent of teaching the reader a moral lesson. In this sense, use of violence is simply a device used by O'Connor to create the need for a deeper understanding. A parable, as defined by TeSelle, is an extended metaphor which "sees 'religious' matters in 'secular' terms" (TeSelle, 3). TeSelle stresses the distinction between allegory and metaphor. Metaphor is both the literal vehicle and the transcendent comparison. Allegory is translucent, the story only holds meaning in terms of comparison; metaphor holds meaning in two realms. It includes "both dimensions—the secular and the religious, our world and God's love" (TeSelle, 5). TeSelle advocates a Christian theology which uses parables; she argues that the form is "always concerned with how the gospel can be 'translated' or understood—grasped—by people" (TeSelle, 7).