Blog Post 3: Falling Man

Delillo’s American characters, in Falling Man, constantly struggle to effectively communicate with speech, all throughout the novel. They just can’t articulate the words; they’re just not there, except maybe on paper, in writing, which is what makes Lianne’s group significant.  Instead, they refer to physical action as a means to express their sentiments—pleasant or not.  It has been suggested that Falling Man isn’t a provocative story; I disagree.  Although the words aren’t always there, the American characters manage to commune in other ways. 

            “He said, ‘Hey, fuckhead’…He said it again, louder this time, and waited for the words to register… Because if anyone said a harsh word to Florence, or raised a hand to Florence, or insulted her in any way, Keith was ready to kill him” (133). 

            “He reached over and knocked on Justin’s head, knock knock, to alert him to a revelation in the making as the camera located the hole cards of a player who didn’t know he was dead. ‘He’s dead,’ he told his son, and the kid sat without comment in his makeshift diagonal, half in the chair, half on the floor, semi-mesmerized” (117-118).

            “He would tell her about Florence.  She would say she could understand the intensity of the involvement, in view of the completely uncommon nature of its origin, in smoke and fire, and this would cause her to suffer enormously.  He would tell her about Florence.  She would get a steak knife and kill him” (161-162). 

            In the first quote, Keith, having difficulty communicating with Florence—it seems there is only ever one of them capable of speech, trading  off intermittently—shows   her the emotional importance that she covets with him, by attacking the origin of the insult.  This assault is a demonstration of not only his internalized emotions for Florence, but, also, his willingness to skip straight from the talking to the fighting, not even giving words much of a thought. 

            The second quote is a moment, Lianne, Keith, and Justin watch television together.  They don’t talk much, but they aren’t distant from one another; their minds aren’t shrouded by the television, wrapped up in immediate doses of gratification.  They are alive, and aware that they are.  The conversation isn’t necessary, instead a look into the reflection that the television provides, a mirror of their scene, framing their existence.  Eyes meet; Justin’s father includes his son the way he knows how: poker. 

            The third quote enters Keith’s head for a rare look into his thoughts.  As others have mentioned, Keith’s character doesn’t receive the same amount of attention to inner detail as does Lianne’s.  He is guilt-ridden, but unapologetic.  He wants to come clean with Lianne, but is hesitant, scared by her possible reaction.  Keith ends the relationship with Florence because he knows he is complicating things, in his already complex relationship with Lianne, but he doesn’t seem to regret the fact that he had it, because it meant something to him.  That’s why the sexual component to the story is so essential. For a story that is primarily concerned with the importance of the exhibition of physical emotions, there is no physical act more intimate and important, to the novel, than sex.  The story would be missing something without it. 

            I’ve enjoyed reading Falling Man so far.  That seems to put me out on an island.  I dunno.