Blog #4 - Barbara - Lessons from Conroy

I learned so much from the world of Conroy in Prince of Tides. I appreciate his framing technique, from the opening. By writing the prologue in the voice of Tom, Conroy effaces himself and pulls in the confidant-reader. that's one level of framing: the author has disappeared (like Melville in Moby-Dick by saying "Call me Ishmael") and now the main character has taken over. The next level of framing occurs with the continuous relating of incidents, anecdotes, and quotes throughout the work. As the reader walks the streets of New York of the marshes in Colleton with Tom, Tom repeats information from his past. The third level of framing happens with Dr. Lowenstein, Savannah's therapist, who wants to know about her patient's twin brother. The reader, who already knows Tom somewhat, gets to sit in on those sessions, unseen, like the author, and hear more wonderful or ghastly stories, and witness violent interactions (as when Tom tells the doctor that her son could easily kill himself, and she throws a hard object to his face, causing a nosebleed).

I also appreciate his varied style: memoir, travel journal, psychological, natural science, poetic, philosophical, and political, so that fiction and nonfiction get knitted together.

I respect Conroy's use of archetypes. Savannah is a modern-day Ophelia, from Shakespeare's Hamlet, the oppressed and disturbed, love-starved young woman. Also I like the tiger--a real live one!--representative of the near-the-surface violence and destructiveness of the Wingo family, with a self-defeating father, an approval-obsessed mother, a near-autistic twin sister, a woman-fearing twin brother, and an action-oriented bully of an older brother. The tiger also relates to the classics. Shakespeare's rival, Robert Greene, described him as a tiger in a player's skin. Also, there's Blake's "Tyger, tyger shining bright" poem.

I especially like the guaranteed-conflict situations using the trio concept: the older brother and two twins; the two parents and the unit of three kids; two boys and a girl; Tim, his wife and his wife's doctor-lover; Susan Lowenstein, her violinist husband and Tom; and finally, Susan, her husband, and his flutist-lover.

I also appreciate the concept of duality or doubles. The two twins, especially fraternal, of two sexes, represent two sides of the complete (perfect) person. Also, Conroy juxtaposes the very rural and provincial small-town South to the very densely-populated and cosmopolitan big-city Northeast, namely New York City, target of past international terrorism. Because geography and setting take on the importance of a character, Conroy gives America a leading role. With his insistance on physical location, Conroy reminds me of Elizabeth Bishop, with her Geography III poem collection.