The Glass Menagerie: Character Analyses

Amanda Wingfield

The mother in Williams' play is a portrayal of his mother in real life. But she has become one of the playwright's most interesting characters solely because she was created with depth and understanding. The conflict in her life evokes feelings of sympathy and anger, and when the smoke of battle clears, an heroic nature emerges.

A Southern Gentlewoman.

Williams' first achievement lay in his delineation of Southern gentlewomen. He was particularly effective in his treatment of battered characters who try to retain shreds of their former respectability. Amanda comes from a background of Southern gentility, gracious living, memories of wealthy gentleman callers, and a loving family. In the present, she has experienced nothing but challenge, hardship, and disappointment. The only balancing force between the past and the present is her family, who give her little satisfaction. Although worried about her son, whom she does not understand, and who she feels must gather himself together and face his responsibilities, Amanda is much more concerned with her daughter who, she realizes, is helpless and lost. Since her husband deserted her, the only way Amanda has been able to live with her ugly reality is to retreat into her memories. Her clothes, her speech, and her ideals for her children make her appear to be a middle-aged Southern belle, garrulous and silly, narrow and spinsterish in her attitudes toward life. At times she appears foolish and ignorant, and her approach to life seems unrealistic.

Amanda And Laura.

Nevertheless, her plans for her children and her understanding of their shortcomings are realistic. She refuses to admit Laura's shyness and her crippled leg and forces her to meet young men. When Laura fails in her attempts to marry, Amanda strives to find her a place in the business world, where Laura may learn a means of self-support. Although she refuses to allow Laura to call herself a cripple and insists that her daughter consider her leg as a little physical defect that can be readily overcome by developing charm and vivacity, she is well aware of the futility of the situation.

Amanda And Tom.

Her son is more difficult for her to understand because she feels that he refuses to see or accept the necessities of their life. This fact confuses Amanda, but she does not try to ignore it. She knows that her family must be held together at all costs, it is the only thing she has left. Amanda, though at times proud of her son, is insensitive to his position. She continually badgers him about his eating habits, his reading material, his smoking, his going to the movies, his late hours, and his drinking. The continual friction between Tom and his mother shows her lack of understanding. Almost every encounter leads to a quarrel. For whatever Amanda is or does, she possesses a fighting spirit and a stubborn gallantry in the face of overwhelming odds.

She becomes domineering and masculine in insisting that Tom face the responsibility of family support, and that his need for adventure can be satisfied in his warehouse job-or that he can do without adventure. She becomes charming and feminine in her recollections of "gentleman callers" and jonquils.

"Dignity And Tragic Beauty."

But when the time for decision arrives and she must choose between failure and defeat or dignity and honor, she answers with the command, "Then go-go to the moon." Here we see the quality that Williams suggests from the beginning as the key to her character, her heroism. At the end of the play, when Tom has left, Amanda bends over Laura, huddled upon the sofa, to comfort her. By then, the audience realizes that Amandap herself is in greater need of sympathy than the quietly resigned Laura. "Her silliness is gone and she has dignity and tragic beauty," says Williams.

 

Tom Wingfield

There is a weakness in the character of Tom Wingfield which is understandable only in the light of the knowledge that Tennessee Williams was portraying himself as a young man. The final action of a son leaving his mother and crippled sister destitute in a world of hardship and despair can only be partially justified in a sympathetic understanding of a need for artistic freedom. Tennessee Williams made his escape from the trap of his suffocating family environment, but in later years, he was capable of aiding in the support of his family. Tom Wingfield's escape appears fruitless, with no indication that the future will bring satisfaction to the Wingfield family. Can Tom Wingfield's action be justified within the play?

Tom's Predicament.

Tom is a sensitive young poet who is unhappy in his warehouse job and, as yet, frustrated in his poetry. He finds no satisfaction in his home life: on the contrary, he feels unmercifully committed to the support of a family that is not of his making. He feels genuine love for his mother and sister, but he is not responsible for the life they have made for themselves. He demands the right to look at life in his own terms, and eventually to meet life under those terms. He is fearfully aware that soon he must make his bid for freedom or be everlastingly trapped by two women and his own indolence. He is also aware of the suffering it will cause, and therefore must wait for a more propitious moment.

From the beginning of the play to the point of Tom's departure, we see the building of this moment. Tennessee Williams teases us, effectively, when Tom makes an emphatic exit, denouncing his mother as "an ugly babbling old witch." He returns, however, and at the insistence of Laura, apologizes for his misbehavior.

The episode does not go by without showing its effects on Tom. He has buffered his anguish with the narcotic effect of movies and drinking. Tom cannot leave at this time, for although the bond between mother and son is strained to the point of breaking, the bond between brother and sister has strengthened with their mutual need. However, in the last scene, after the departure of the gentleman caller, Tom's self-recrimination is not caused by Amanda, but his sorrow for Laura. He feels that through his act of inviting Jim O'Connor to dinner he has embarrassed and hurt his sister: to him, the bond of faith between brother and sister is broken. But Amanda's unjust accusations of selfishness and deceit are the propelling force that releases Tom from any further commitment to his family.

Tom "Justified"?

When Tom leaves, he escapes from a trap, a situation which is plainly unendurable, but there is nothing heroic or even positive or challenging in his departure. He has failed in his job at the shoe factory, and thereby failed in his responsibility to his family. His escape can be viewed as the action of an uncalculating, unrealistic coward. Has Williams "justified" the action of Tom? He has, in the everlasting torment of the memory of Laura. For had Tom paused for one rational moment before dismissing his responsibilities he might have noticed the look of content and satisfaction on Laura's face. Her experience with Jim had affected her, yes, but the effect was the beginning of a delayed maturity. Had her brother remained to nurture that growth, a beauty greater than anything he encountered might have been the result.

Laura Wingfield

Laura is the most pivotal character in the play: it is around her that the play revolves; it is upon her that the play depends. She is of critical importance, and yet the most passive character in the drama. Williams has created her in the image of his sister Rose. But Rose in fiction is different from Rose in real life. Williams' fondness for his sister is evident in portraying Laura as an idol of beauty, delicacy, and purity. He builds her within a protective coating of glass, and warns the world to stay away lest she become contaminated by its ills.

A Pattern Of Disability.

Finding it too difficult to deal with Rose's mental disability, he creates Laura with a limp and an inferiority complex to account, at least in part, for her extreme introversion. But Laura must become a real character in order to truly affect the drama. Williams makes this concession by allowing Laura to react to frustration: because of an early affliction, Laura is compelled to wear a brace; this brace causes her to retreat from the association of her classmates in school. She recalls this in terms of the horrible thumping sound it makes as she walks through the halls or as she takes her place in the back row of the choir. Eventually it leads to her dropping out of school and becoming enmeshed in a home life that is just as unsettling. Amanda's insistence that Laura prepare herself for the harsh reality of the future by enrolling in a business school ends in a further retreat from the world around her. Laura seeks an escape.

Laura's Escape.

Incapable of an escape into alcohol or literature, she retreats into a world of fantasy and memory. She occupies herself with caring for tiny glass animals that are as delicate and fragile as she; she plays old phonograph records that have long since lost their connection with present reality. In her timid seclusion, Laura becomes an object of sympathy. She is reflected against the friction between Tom and Amanda as one who must be cared for, loved, and understood. When understanding comes in the form of the gentleman caller she reacts favorably. She becomes capable, for the moment, of enduring the effects of reality, because someone from the outside has shown an interest in her world. The two worlds meet, join, and become one, each capable of experiencing the effects of the other. When the gentleman caller departs, Laura is left with a taste of reality. Not completely understanding what it is that has affected her, she turns to her family for help. Again she is caught in the abyss of a family conflict. As Tom leaves, so does her only hope for survival. Laura's character, as well as her hopes, is never completely realized, and therefore remains puzzling to the audience.

Jim O'Connor

A "Realistic Character."

Williams uses the character of Jim O'Connor as a contrast to the unrealistic world of the Wingfield family. He is "an emissary from a world of reality that we were somehow set apart from," says Tom in his opening speech to the audience. He might have added "toward which we strive but can never quite attain," but he continues vaguely "he is the long-delayed, but always expected something that we live for." Whether they "live" in anticipation of fear or happiness is not explained by Tom Wingfield. Therefore, the audience must live in anticipation of the arrival of the gentleman caller. His entrance in the second act proves confusing to Tom, to Amanda, and to Laura, as well as to the audience. Confusion reigns because of an indication that Jim "is the most unrealistic character in the play." Those who believe that a realistic approach to life is the panacea for all ills are badly shaken upon the exit of Jim O'Connor.

Jim And Tom.

After the initial shock of Jim's arrival is tion of the answer to all her prayers. He is the gentleman caller who exceeds all her expectations. He has a good job that pays a decent salary, and he is preparing for a career that will give him a place in the industrial development of the future. In addition, he has charm, looks, and an understanding of the art of conversation. Amanda is convinced, beyond doubt, that Laura would be content and satisfied with such a man for a husband. He symbolizes those sons of plantation owners who, many years ago, were refused the hand of a vivacious, charming, petite Southern belle; this time, he will not be refused.

Jim And Amanda.

For Amanda, Jim is the personifica absorbed by the Wingfield family, everything seems to progress smoothly. Tom shows his satisfaction in Jim's presence by taking him into his confidence in the scene on the fire escape. Telling Jim of his need for adventure and revealing his act of membership in The Union of Merchant Seamen relieves Tom of some of his pent-up emotion. When they return to the apartment and Tom is confronted with the embarrassment of the "charm" of Amanda's Southern reincarnation, he is again relieved by Jim's simple, good nature. The dinner is a "success" because of the presence of someone who can easily carry on a bantering discussion with Mrs. Wingfield. When the lights go off involuntarily, it is Jim who offers to set things right, even to the point of excusing Tom's negligence in paying the light bill.

Jim And Laura.

For Laura, the planned evening begins in panic, because the dream that she dared to dream has come true. For many years she has treasured a secret admiration for a high school hero. The memory of this boy has been as important to her private world as her menagerie of glass. Afraid that her imaginary world will be shattered, she refuses to risk the responsibility of meeting Jim. Soon Laura is attracted by the warmth and confidence of the young man. Their common experiences in the school choir and the memory of the incident about "Blue Roses" make it easy for Laura to forget her self-consciousness. She enjoys Jim tremendously when he talks about himself and his ambitions for the future. She is unconcerned about the lack of progress Jim has made since highschool, for in her life she can make no true evaluation of such things. She is only slightly embarrassed when he makes reference to her crippled leg and suggests that it is the cause of her sense of inferiority and her shyness in the presence of other people. When,to substantiate with authority all the things he has been telling her, he asks her to dance. Laura hesitantly agrees.

Jim's Undoing.

As he takes her in his arms, "a fragile, unearthly prettiness has come out in Laura: she is like a piece of translucent glass touched by light." As Jim lifts her high in the air in their turns around the floor, Laura feels released from her little world of make-believe. When the glass unicorn falls and is broken, what to Jim seems a tragedy, is to Laura a newly discovered life for a horse that will "fell less freakish." Laura no longer needs assurance that she is a part of this new life, but Jim, driven by his own desire, kisses her. Laura regards this as an extra benefit, one that she dared not hope for, but Jim realizes that it is his undoing. He has committed himself beyond the point of propriety; he has allowed himself to run into error because of overconfidence. This fault shatters his feeling of self-assurance and he retreats back into the world of reality by awkwardly confessing his inability to love Laura as would be expected from his actions.

Consequences.

Laura is gravely affected, but is willing to compromise with a token of friendship. The act of giving Jim the broken unicorn, a piece of her world, shows maturity that is not seen in the reaction of the other members of the Wingfield family. When Amanda realizes that all of her plans and hopes for the future are ruined by an emissary from the world of reality, she reacts vehemently. Her confusion causes the destruction of the only thing she has left, her family. Tom, who from Jim's arrival, has felt guilty in subjecting Laura to such an ordeal, reacts in a similar fashion. Unaware of the possible benefit derived from Jim and Laura's meeting, he relinquishes all responsibility and runs blindly for the door.

Jim cannot be blamed for being a fallible human being from the world of reality, where mistakes are possible. (But if one does not believe in a world of unreality and faces disappointment in the real world, where does the answer lie?)

The Father

The effect of the father's picture hanging in the center of the stage is that he appears as a chief character in the drama. His influence is felt from the moment the picture is first illuminated by a special spotlight, to the final scene when Tom follows in his footsteps. It is appropriate that the picture is an enlarged portrait of the likeness of Tom dressed in the uniform of the first World War.

Tom speaks of his father with a cynical reverence: "He was a telephone man who fell in love with long distance; he gave up his job with the telephone company and skipped the light fantastic out of town." He realizes that his father deserted his family and the bulk of the suffering fell on him, but he can't help but admire his father's adventurous spirit: "The last we heard from him was a picture postcard from Mazatlan, on the Pacific coast of Mexico, containing a message of two words-"Hello-Good-bye" and no address."

Tom And His Father.

To Tom, his father's picture represents escape. It hangs in front of him like a prize to be won. The more he becomes like his father, the closer he is to freedom. This transformation is subtle, but constant throughout the play. It is apparent when we see Tom returning home late at night, drunk. He lies down on his bed and wonders at the feat of escaping from a coffin "without removing one nail." The image that is left in the minds of the audience at theend of the first act is the portrait of the smiling face of his father. In the second act, while expressing a need for adventure, Tom very deliberately says, "I'm like my father. The bastard son of a bastard!" It is no surprise, not even to Amanda, that Tom continues to follow a pattern of escape even to its very end.

The Father And Amanda.

To Amanda, the picture recalls memories that are both bitter and sweet. Though hurt by his desertion, Amanda considers her husband the embodiment of romance. His picture stimulates thoughts of bygone days on the Mississippi Delta, of gentleman callers and jonquils. She is no longer disturbed by his memory, because years of absence have preserved only her romantic image of him. Ironically, he returns in the son to desert her for a second time.

 

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