Indifference and Identity in The White Boy Shuffle

Throughout Paul Beatty's novel, The White Boy Shuffle, Gunnar Kaufman at times appears as a very aloof and hard to decipher character, especially with respect to his puzzling resentment of his astonishing innate proficiency in playing basketball. Despite his seemingly jovial and humorous demeanor in his interactions with his friends throughout the novel, Gunnar shows a surprising dissatisfaction with not only his success in basketball but also the identity that is formed around him as a result of his immense success. At several points in the novel, Gunnar expresses his resent for his new persona as Phillis Wheatley's star black ball player through not just his basketball play itself, but also his poetry, something that we later learn he would much rather be known for. What seems like an ideal life for a black high school basketball player, what with numerous friends, a cheerful wife, admission into a reputable university, and an inexplicable natural talent for basketball, actually doesn't resonate too well with Gunnar, as he finds himself hating basketball--and the fame that comes with it--more than we would think of someone in his position. Gunnar's discontent with his own fame and identity manifests itself in the form of indifference, at first towards the game he is so skilled at but later extending towards his relationships with his friends, too. While on the surface it appears as though Gunnar's life couldn't be better, we can observe throughout the novel how Gunnar's dislike for his forced identity develops, causing him to lose interest in basketball and his friends, eventually resulting in his shockingly blunt view of suicide at the end of the novel.

One of our first glimpses of Gunnar's rapid loss of interest in basketball is during the free throw scene when Gunnar is playing one of his games with Scoby at Phillis Wheatley. The game is close and Gunnar has the chance to clinch the victory by making one of his free throws at the end of the game: "A voice barrel-rolled out of the stands, demanding attention. "Come on, Gunnar, we need these." We? I didn't even need these free throws. I missed the first one on purpose. The crowd moaned and spit, instantly stricken with psychosomatic bellyaches. "Please, make this next one, please, goddammit." They were hypnotized and didn't even know it, and I was the hypnotist" (116). We can see Gunnar's indifference for basketball stem from this scene, as he seems to care more about spiting the crowd, rather than scoring the winning basket in a close game. Even in such a high pressure scenario, Gunnar doesn't care about the game or the free throws, but instead focuses on a seemingly minor comment from someone in the crowd, potentially throwing the game for his entire school to do so. Gunnar has become so fed up with the school's view of him as simply a basketball player, and thus doesn't place much importance on winning the game itself. This is why he becomes so angry by the person's choice of the word "we" when shouting to him from the crowd. The person tries to lump himself in with Gunnar and give off the sense that Gunnar is shooting his free throw for the entire school, but in reality Gunnar is shooting the free throw for no one, not even himself. He resents the identity that the school places onto him and holds him to of being the star basketball player, which is why he gets so angry at the person in the crowd who acts closer to Gunnar by saying "we", actually only knowing him for his basketball skill. Gunnar's surprising anger during this scene could relate to the dynamic at his past school, before he moved to Phillis Wheatley. At his previous school, Gunnar was placed into the role of the "funny, cool black kid" by his classmates, and it is possible that when the person from the crows effectively assigns him his identity as the star black basketball player of the school, he is reminded of this event and misses the free throw in an attempt to anger the crowd, the majority of which doesn't actually know Gunnar but actually assumes his identity as such. After scoring his second free throw, the crown rushes the court, and Coach Shimimoto congratulates Gunnar. Even here, Gunnar doesn't express the euphoria that we expect after winning such a tense game, but simply thinks about how much he "really do[esn't] give a fuck" about the climactic victory.

This notion of Gunnar's aloof, surprisingly indifferent behavior in the novel actually extends beyond his ambiguous identity in basketball into other aspects of his life, too. The main example of this is in Gunnar's views of suicide towards the end of the novel. We first receive the shocking news that Dexter Waverly has killed himself in response to Gunnar's speech that he gives outside Boston University. When shown a poem about death and prompted to speak about Dexter's death, Gunnar responds: ""That's not a bad poem. But I don't feel responsible for anything anyone else does. I have enough trouble being responsible for myself. Besides, it looks like Dexter's death prevented one hundred million dollars from being deposited in the National Party's coffers"" (201). Gunnar assumes absolutely no responsibility regarding Dexter's suicide, simply stating that it was Dexter's decision to kill himself and since he chose to, so be it. As readers, we find Gunnar's nonchalance towards suicide very concerning here, as it appears that his indifference towards basketball is slowly creeping into other parts of his life as well. By simply waving off Dexter's death as if nothing happened, Gunnar exhibits his growing apathy towards several serious aspects of his life, such as the lives of his friends at Boston University. Although, Dexter was actually quite nice to Gunnar during his speech, actually proclaiming him as the new leader of the black community at BU, Gunnar seems to reciprocate none of this feeling, as evident by his stark view of Dexter's suicide. This very linear view of suicide by Gunnar extends itself even to the end of the novel, when his best friend Nicholas Scoby decides to kill himself. While Gunnar does express grief this time, it is only after Scoby is gone. He does nothing to try and stop Scoby and talk him out of it, instead simply thinking that Scoby can make whatever decision he wants to make. Finally, we see Gunnar's lifeless view of suicide culminate in the very last scene of the book when Gunnar speaks to Psycho Loco, revealing his true beliefs of the meaning of his life: "I'm the horse pulling the stagecoach, the donkey in the levee who's stumbled in the mud and come up lame. You may love me, but I'm tired of thrashing around in the muck and not getting anywhere, so put a nigger out his misery" (226). Gunnar directly states that he has grown weary of basketball and his life in general, never accomplishing anything he deems substantial. Even when Gunnar receives immense adoration or praise for something, such as his basketball skill or poetic prowess, he feels incomplete in his identity and feels that his talent/work isn't being recognized properly. As a result, it seems as thought Gunnar never really found any point in living his life, as basketball meant next to nothing to him and poetry would never get him anywhere. Scoby's suicide acted as a catalyst for Gunnar's radical views to come to surface, allowing him to finally show how different his views of his own life actually are compared to the attitude we once believed he held.

An Evaluation of Richard Wright's Critique on "Their Eyes Were Watching God"

In the excerpts we read from "Between Laughter and Tears," Richard Wright puts forth a very severe critique of Zora Neale Hurston's novel Their Eyes Were Watching God with respect to its content and failure to address the pressing issues of the times. Wright's main point of disapproval towards the novel lies in his belief that it does nothing to challenge the issues of racism and white supremacy in the early 20th century, but rather has the reverse effect and actually bolsters white misconceptions of the simplicity of black life. Wright's claims do have some merit considering the context of blackface during the times. Blackface minstrelsy was a popular occurrence at the time, as white people would mockingly dress up as blacks to disparage them, and Wright believes that Hurston's depictions of black life throughout the novel do nothing to go against this. Hurston places a great focus on getting across the nuances of everyday black life by describing the actions of Janie and Tea Cake in detail throughout the novel. Because she devotes so much of her novel to this desire to get across the interactions between black characters themselves, rather than how black characters in her novel interact with racism and white characters, we can see in part how Wright's frustrations with the novel are justified. While several of the claims that Wright makes throughout the excerpts are valid considering the grand scheme of things, we also must understand Hurston's purpose in writing her novel, as it seems as though Hurston had no intention of writing Wright's ideal protest novel in the first place.

Wright is extremely harsh in his comments directed towards Their Eyes Were Watching God, but it's important to realize that from his perspective, several of his claims are justified. Interestingly, Wright actually acknowledges Hurston's writing style at times during his critique, saying things such as "Miss Hurston can write," to show that his primary concern is with the specific things Hurston chooses to write about in her novel. This small acknowledgement furthers his argument in that it places the focus of his criticism on the content of the novel rather than Hurston herself. Wright's first issue with the novel is in its inability to address any topic that he considers significant during the times, saying that "neither of the two novels has a basic idea or theme that lends itself to significant interpretation. Miss Hurston seems to have no desire whatever to move in the direction of serious ficiton..." Racism and white supremacy were the two connected areas of major controversy in the first half of the 20th century, and Wright is correct in stating that Hurston seems to have no desire whatsoever to combat these issues. This can be seen by the utter lack of significant white characters throughout the novel. Hurston actually exhibits racism in her novel, but not in the traditional sense, instead through Mrs. Turner's unsettling remarks about race and skin color. The fact that Hurston doesn't just not address a major issue in her novel, but instead mentions racism without condemning it, provides fuel of Wright in his argument of the futility of the novel to get a significant point across. While it is true that Wright can't really fault Hurston for copying his style of protest novel, his main point lies in the unintended result of Their Eyes Were Watching God on a predominantly white audience. Wright states that "Miss Hurston voluntarily continues in her novel the tradition which was forced upon the Negro in the theatre, that is, the minstrel technique that makes the "white folks" laugh. Her characters eat and laugh and cry and work and kill." Wright believes that through Hurston's seemingly harmless depictions of the essence of daily black life, she inadvertently supports blackface minstrelsy and the racist beliefs of supremacy that white people use to discriminate against blacks. While it may seem as thought Hurston's depictions of Janie and Tea Cake laughing, eating, and especially playing in the muck are harmless, in Wright's eyes these descriptions simply provide racist whites with more evidence to establish a feeling of superiority over the supposedly "simplistic" blacks.

We can see why Wright is so emphatic in his critique on Hurston's novel specifically, but we also must consider Hurston's side in her own purpose in writing the novel. Hurston surely didn't write the novel to support white racist beliefs, as Wright suggests her novel did, but likely took her novel as an opportunity to delve deep into the beauty in the seemingly mundane aspects of Janie's life. Hurston didn't write a protest novel because she had no desire to write a protest novel, and we should not hold Their Eyes Were Watching God to a standard such as Wright's Native Son when the two novels were written for completely different reasons. Wright's claims are valid in the novel's unforeseen impact on a wider white audience, but we must also give Hurston some freedom in shaping her novel however she desires, in this case, as one woman's story of love rather than a shock-inducing protest novel.