Some friends and I saw August William’s Fences last night (the same production seen by Strange Quark and Heather). It’s a great play, of course, and the production — actors, set, lighting — was impressive.
Fences is part of Wilson’s 10-play “Pittsburgh cycle,” about Blacks in America in the 20th century. Each play takes place in a different decade of the 20th century, all but one in the same black neighborhood in Pittsburgh; some characters in plays set late in the cycle are descendants of characters from earlier in the cycle. I’ve been fantasizing about seeing the entire Pittsburgh cycle, in order. ((In my fantasy world, not only does some theatre company in extremely-white Portland miraculously choose to stage 10 August Wilson plays, but they price tickets so low that I can afford to see ten shows in a row. Also, I own a pony.))
Fences, despite some humor and despite stunning, lyrical dialog, is as grim a play as I’ve ever seen; one character has some hope in act 1, but it’s crushed by the start of act 2 and very little new hope comes to replace it. Any great play will have multiple interpretations, but for me Fences is about how racism’s scars do not go away quickly, if at all.
The main character of Fences, Troy Maxson, was born to be a baseball legend, like Babe Ruth or Willie Mayes. But major league baseball was exclusively white during Troy’s heyday, and Troy spent his pro ball years as the second-best slugger in the negro leagues, after Josh Gibson. ((August Wilson may have modelled Troy partly after Josh Gibson, who lived and died in Pittsburgh. Gibson, who once hit 69 home runs in a single season, whose 1942 batting average (in the Puerto Rican Professional Baseball League) of .480 remains the record in that league, and who is believed to be the only player to ever hit a fair ball out of Yankee stadium, would be as legendary as Babe Ruth if he had been allowed into the major leagues.))
Fences begins a decade after Jackie Robinson was the first Black player in major league baseball. But that can’t heal Troy’s scars. Troy, now in his fifties, has long retired from baseball; he eeks out a living for himself and his family as a garbage man, and nurses his well-earned bitterness. His life has been warped by white racism, and in turn Troy is helpless to keep himself from warping his son’s life. As Susan Koprince ((“Baseball as history and myth in August Wilson’s Fences,” African American Review, Summer, 2006.)) writes:
Bitter about his own exclusion from major-league baseball, Troy is resistant when Cory wants to attend college on a football scholarship, telling his son that black athletes have to be twice as talented to make the team and that “the white man ain’t gonna let you get nowhere with that football noway.” […]
Troy’s efforts to prevent his son from playing football can be viewed as a form of what Harry J. Elam, Jr., calls “racial madness”–a term that suggests that social and political forces can impact the black psyche and that decades of oppression can induce a collective psychosis. In Fences this racial madness is illustrated most vividly in the character of Troy’s mentally handicapped brother, Gabriel, but it is also revealed in Troy himself, who is so overwhelmed by bitterness that he destroys his son’s dream of a college education–a dream that most fathers would happily support. Instead, Troy instructs Cory to stick with his job at the A & P or learn a trade like carpentry or auto mechanics: “That way you have something can’t nobody take away from you.”
There is a certain method, however, to Troy’s madness; for why should he expect college football (another white power structure) to treat his son any better than major-league baseball treated him? Why should he believe, in 1957, that times have really changed for black men? Anxious for Cory to find economic security, and, more importantly, self-respect, Troy exclaims to [his wife] Rose, “I don’t want him to be like me! I want him to move as far away from my life as he can get.”
Fences is also a story about how masculinity, and the overlap between masculinity and racism, can warp people. Troy is consumed by his own need to “be a man,” and if at all possible to be the biggest man. He tells extravagant stories in which he wrestles Death to a standstill; his best friend falls comfortably into what can only be described as a sidekick role; his wife describes him as filling a house merely by walking into it. ((On Broadway, Troy was originally played by James Earl Jones. That’s how big the character is supposed to be, and I don’t just mean physically.))
Nevertheless, Troy’s principle route to establishing and maintaining his manhood — a legendary career as a baseball slugger — was closed off to him by racism. His second route to manhood, being a dutiful husband and provider, is something he’s second-rate at; he gets by hauling white people’s garbage, but he was only able to buy a house by taking, or perhaps stealing, money from his mentally disabled brother. And Troy’s third route to manhood — a long-time adulterous relationship — ends up destroying his claim to being a good husband and father.
And the clash between Troy and his younger son Cory is all about masculinity, at least in this production. Troy is constantly forcing Cory to back down, to acknowledge Troy’s primacy as the man of the family; Troy is sometimes so in Cory’s face it’s a wonder their noses don’t hit. Troy destroys Cory’s chances for college not just out of a misguided need to protect Cory, but also out of a masculine need to dominate Cory. At the same time, Troy is trying to be a good father by teaching Cory to be a man — which, for Troy, means being hard and surrounded by emotional fences, even when they destroy his relationships with everyone around him. (When Cory, in emotional anguish, asks his father why he (Troy) doesn’t like him (Cory), Troy responds by mocking Cory’s desire to be liked).
Cory, in turn, grows into a young man itching to challenge his father, but emotionally stiff and withdrawn; not coincidentally, Cory chooses what may be the most traditionally masculine career imaginable by joining the Marines.
As frequently happens, I don’t have a good ending to this blog post. But it’s curious to me that — as I’ve been reading essays and reviews of Fences yesterday and today — I haven’t seen anyone talking about the obsession with, and the warping effects of, masculinity in Fences. (Lots of stuff about racism, virtually nothing about masculinity).
Anyhow, great play. See it if you get a chance.
Edited to add: But does Fences pass the Mo Movie Measure?
It does, but only barely; there are only two female characters that appear, and one — the 8-year-old daughter of Troy — appears only in one scene at the play’s end. During that scene, Rose, Troy’s wife, tells the daughter to put on her good shoes, and that’s the total extent of two female characters talking to each other in this play.
To be sure, Rose is an amazing character: strong, eloquent, dignified and believable. I suspect that most audience members, if asked who their favorite character is, would say “Rose.” Nonetheless, Fences is on the whole an extremely male-centric play.
I’ve seen a bunch of his plays, though wildly out of order. They are all fantastic gut-punches. I’ve never seen “Fences”, but the issue of “what is a man” seems to be one of the central issues to his plays, and the ways he handles it over the different plays is really provoking and fascinating.
My favorite so far was, “Gem of the Ocean”. While the central action is focused on a man, it was one of the ones (Like “Ma Rainey’s Big Black Bottom”) that had solid, powerful female characters that were central to the plot, and as a bonus it had the coming of age of a young woman as well as a young man, which as a young woman I appreciated. ^^
I think my local theater is doing one of his plays a year, which has been lovely since I usher. They’re the sort of stories that crawl under your skin and make themselves at home.
Excellent article….but the great black power hitter with a career batting average of .480 was Josh Gibson, not Josh Wilson.
Amp~
Nice review.
You seem to imply ~ at least by my reading ~ that there is only one form of masculinity (i.e. the overlap between masculinity and racism”).
I don’t disagree that this particular form of masculinity exhibits some of the worst behaviors expected of men and masculine identified people. But it isn’t the only one out there.
What I find most intriguing about your post is how the effects of racism exacerbate this particular expression of masculinity. Too, Wilson also seems to showing us how one man attempts to crush the more optimistic (?) expression of masculinity in his son. (I know that sounds super cheesy.)
For me, Wilson is also showing that men choosing different forms of masculinity and responses to racism must be very, very strong of will.
Also, using the trope of a mentally-disabled man as a metaphor for the psychic illness that befalls the main character is very, well, tired, yes?
Thanks again.
Jay
Thom, thanks for the correction. I’ll edit the post to fix the error.
Jay, you’re right: when I said “masculinity” in this post, I meant our culture’s dominant conception of masculinity. There are other conceptions out there, and I respect the work of people who have been working on establishing and growing more positive forms of masculinity.
And I agree that one of the most fascinating things about Fences — and certainly the most fascinating to me from a political perspective — was how racism and (our culture’s dominant form of) masculinity combined to make the effects of each even worse than they would be individually.
I’m still not sure what I think about the mentally-disabled character, partly because Gabriel in the play is connected to so much religious imagery that I’m not sure what to make of. I’ve been told that the spiritually advanced, mentally disabled character is a repeating theme in Wilson’s plays; but that is, in and of itself, a bit of a cliche. I think Wilson makes up for the cliche to some extent through solid characterization and dialog, however.
(I’d be interested in reading some disabled activist commentary on Fences, but I didn’t find any when I looked.)
Dear Ampersand,
One of my classes is going to begin reading Fences next week (Monday 5-14). Would you mind if I ask them to respond to your blog as an assignment? I have 13 students. Thanks,
JW
I don’t mind at all – unsurprisingly, I’m flattered to be asked. If at all possible, I’d love to be able to read their responses. (It would be fine for them to post in the comments on “Alas,” if they want.)
Thanks, Amp!
Dear Ampersand,
I dont understand how troy is so mean to cory and how he doesnt show corry his love for him since hes his son. Could you help me understand that alittle more
I feel,Troy thinks that his masculinity is all he has left.Racism has taking all of his dreams, and he needs to hold on to his manhood. He feels he has to be tough, on his family and friends. Maybe he’s too tough, but life has given him a bad hand.
Hi, Ampersand,
I’m here in the computer lab with a small group of students tonight. We finished talking about Act I last night, and I’m going to find something to try to get the discussion going. So:
I keep coming back to the last thing Troy says to Rose in Act I: “That’s all I got, Rose. That’s all I got to give. I can’t give nothing else.”
Isn’t this an example of his need not only to assert his masculinity, but to haul it up or roll it down so that no one can get close to him, so that he doesn’t have to be responsible for what he might really want in life or who he might really want to give it to? I keep hearing the echo, and you talking about responsibility. If he holds up a stop sign, he doesn’t have to look at the question he’s being asked. He doesn’t have to look at his own behavior or view from any other angle but the one he’s become comfortable with.
I don’t even dislike him. I dislike his dishonesty with himself.
The part that got my attention in this play was the way troy talks to cory. Troy needs to show more love effection towards his son cory ,instead of being hard on him and making him feel not loved.
Hello Ampersand !!!!!!!!!
Masculinity means to me how the hole world is dominat by the men. In Fences I can see how racism is a strog word in the play. In our culture racism and masculinity are present all the time…
Dear Ampersand,
I’m not sure that my responce would be what your looking for (masculinity), how ever, I can tell you the part of the play that really upset me. Act one : Scene four, Troy is telling Lyons how he saw his father for who he was. When he became a man by defending the young girl from his father. I think this is masculinity in it’s worst form. Troy’s father not only dehumanized Troy but he also dehumanized the girl and forced Troy to see him for what he was. What an effect on Troy and it seems to affect him through out his life.
DLA
i dont know dude but Troy needs to chill and be less angry. I feel that he should let Cory do his thing. is Tory afriad of cory getting all sad which will then make corys life misserable.
Dear Ampersand,
I think troy should lighten up with cory he is being too strict with him. He needs to show cory how much he cares about him. Cory thinks troy doesnt care about him and he questions that alot. what do you think?
hi ampersand.
as a woman i can see, in a different point of view, masculinity but, thats how our culture was made. in fences you can see how womans are put to the side like if they were a thing.
Hello Amp
I really liked reading “fences” by August Wilson. At first glance I was not interested I think It just brought up alot of memories for me. After I started reading Act II the story really started getting interesting.
How Troy spoke to his son Cory was very suprising to read in a book. I can relate to Cory and Troys relationship. I wondered if Troy was just protecting Cory from being a bench warmer. This book really had me wonder, “why they made the choices that they made.”
I admired Rose for the choice she made to keep the child and raise it as her own child. What she said about the child being innocent was very right I don’t think I ever looked at it that way.
amrnash
A big welcome to everyone who has posted to this thread!
I’ve injured my arm, and so I’m trying to minimize how much typing I’m doing — so I won’t be able to respond to everyone here. (You can respond to each other, though!)
But I wanted to thank you all for your comments here, and to let you know I’ve read them all.
I think that Troy needs to be a little bit easier on Cory for one thing. i also can see how he treats Rose and I dont think that is respectful. He treats her more like a thing than a Human. other than that i like it
Dear Ampersand,
I have been reading over your sight again. I realy would like to see his plays. I don’t think that they are in my area, though I’m sure I can probably find them at the library.
I’ve noticed that alot of the responces all say the same thing (one way or another). I maybe missing the whole point of masculinity, or atleast what your asking about.
I see all the anger, hurt and disapointment he is putting on everyone eles, don’t you think that being a man, “being responsible” as Troy says, can simply mean take charge of your life from where it is. If you get delt lemons make lemon aid. I mean, to me it seems that there wear several choices he could have made. Maybe the most important was to be happy.
Set an example for youre wife and children, show them how to pick youre self up when life throws you a curve ball. Take risks and swing again even if you strike out. Eventually you will hit a home run. Maybe not the one your looking for (that’s life), but don’t give up and become angry.