Alison B.

 

 

The Poisonwood Bible Final Paper:

The Conqueror's Wife

 

Maybe I'll even confess the truth, that I rode in with the horsemen and beheld the apocalypse, but still I'll insist I was only a captive witness. What is the conqueror's wife if not a conquest herself?" (9).

 

In this powerful quote, Orleanna introduces readers to the complicity we are all faced with in life. Orleanna portrays herself as the conqueror's wife, an individual not directly responsible for the deeds committed, but nonetheless intimately connected to those that committed them. Orleanna realizes that she probably even benefitted from the vile acts done by those around her. And so the question emerges: how are we to deal with complicity? ~/

 

The five narrators in The Poisonwood Bible all deal with the concept of complicity in different ways. Looking back on her life, Orleanna is very concerned with how she was connected to the events that shaped both her life and the lives of everyone in the world. When the Price family first arrived in the Congo, and for quite a while thereafter, Orleanna did not concern herself with the national and international events that were taking place outside of Kilanga. She worried mostly about Nathan and her girls, and if there would be enough food to put on the table. Looking back on the day Patrice Lumumba was killed, she states, ÒOn the same August day, this is all I knew: the pain in my household seemed plenty large enough to fill the whole world. Ruth May was slipping away into her fever. And it was Rachel's seventeenth birthday..." (320).

 

It is important to note that there is very good reason that Orleanna did not have time to contemplate how her actions and the actions of those around her were connected. First of all, Kilanga had virtually no contact with the outside world while the Prices lived there. Although the men of the village actively participated in the election of Patrice Lumumba, his life and death affected them very little, if at all. Orleanna recalls: "We'd only heard faint rumors that Lumumba was in trouble. Frankly, we were more interested in the news that heavy rain was falling to the west of us and might soon reach our own parched village" (320). International events did not greatly interest the people of Kilanga, for politics and government were words that meant nothing to them. New presidents and invaluable diamond mines did not cause the chickens to lay more eggs or the crops to grow faster, so the villagers were not concerned with such things.

 

Another thing that kept Orleanna from spending her time thinking about her complicity was the fact that she was always busy. She sums up her daily life in the following quotation:

 

But then nothing came to us free. Not even water. It had to be carried a mile and a half, and boiled. 'Boiled,' a small word, meant twenty minutes over a roaring fire on a stove that resembled the rusted carcass of an Oldsmobile. 'Fire' meant gathering up a pile of sticks in a village that had already been gathering firewood for all the years since God was a childÉ So 'fire' meant longer and longer forays into the forest, stealing fallen branches from under the blunt-eyed gaze of snakes, just for a single bucket of drinkable water. Every small effort at hygiene was magnified by hours of labor (92).

 

It is evident that Orleanna cannot be blamed for her lack of interest in matters that did not directly concern her or her family. She simply did what had to be done to keep herself, her husband, and her daughters alive. In one of her narratives, Orleanna admits that she, like other women, can only try their best: "I knew Rome was burning, but I had just enough water to scrub the floor, so I did what I could" (383).

 

Orleanna's life, and her view of her complicity in the world, changes dramatically after Ruth May's death. She is completely grief-stricken and blames her daughter's death on herself. Her incredible guilt leads her to spend hours contemplating how her actions, or the actions of others, could have saved her favorite child. "If only I hadn't let the children out of my sight that morning. If I hadn't let Nathan take us to Kilanga in the first place. If the Baptists hadn't taken upon themselves the religious conversion of the Congolese" (323). During the time following Ruth May's death, Orleanna realizes that the lives and actions of people everywhere are connected. She looks back fifteen years after she has returned to America and wonders where she had been when so much political unrest had been taking place in the Congo. She reminisces: "From the next five years of Lumumba's imprisonment, escape, and recapture, I recall - what? The hardships of washing and cooking in a drought. I was so occupied entirely by each day, I felt detached from anything so large as a month or a year. History didn't cross my mind. Now it does Now I know, whatever your burdens, to hold yourself apart from the lot of more powerful men is an illusion" (323). It was her people7 the white-skinned people, that caused so much damage to an unsuspecting country.

 

I believe Ruth May's death caused Orleanna to comprehend her complicity in the world not only because of the blame she had to place upon herself, but also because her child's death left her wondering how such horrible things were possible. She came to understand that events, good or bad, can be traced back forever. She also realizes that it is pointless to waste time trying to place blame: "Oh, it's a fine and useless enterprise, trying to fix destiny. That trail leads straight back to the time before we ever lived, and into that deep well it's easy to cast curses like stones on our ancestors" (324). However, this is exactly what Orleanna seemingly does for the rest of her days. She never forgives herself or allows herself to move on after her daughter's death. Her grief causes her to remain lost in her own world, and for all her knowledge of her complicity, Orleanna does not do much to make a difference. Although she does participate in some volunteer work, Orleanna ends up living by herself, consumed by guilt and grief. |

 

Leah, the only Price woman to remain in the Congo, also realizes that she is complicit in all aspects of life. Like her mother, she believes she played a part in Ruth May's death, for she was the one that challenged her sisters to accompany her to the chicken house that fateful morning. Leah laments the day of her sister's death every January, but for the most part she tries not to let it play a large part in her current life.

 

Leah also accepts that she is complicit in the demise of the Congo. Her people are the ones causing damage to a country that, in her mind, was perfectly fine on its own. She despises her white skin, and longs to be rid of it: "I want to belong somewhere, damn it. To scrub the hundred year's war off this white skin till there's nothing left and I can walk out among my neighbors wearing raw sinew and bone, like they do" (474).

 

Once she realizes her complicity, Leah, unlike Orleanna, tries to make amends for the crimes her country and people have committed. She recognizes the injustice in the world and does her best to help those around her. She becomes a teacher, and spends many hours trying to teach the young people she can reach. She also supports her husband, Anatole, in all of his efforts to bring peace and prosperity to the Congo. Leah and Anatole know that although they are only two people, perhaps they can make a difference in the lives of a few people, if not

many.

 

Looking over the book, it is interesting to see how Leah has changed since the times of her youth. When she was young, she believed that God would take care of everything. Nathan basically taught her that if she said the right prayers and acted a certain way, everything would be fine. However, as Leah grew older, she realized that this was not the case. She comes to understand that it is the conscious actions of people that make differences, both good and bad, in,.,,

the world.

 

Rachel, the eldest daughter, had extremely different views on complicity from those of her sister and mother. She believed she played no role in Ruth May's death, and says so quite blatantly, in a quotation that sums up her character quite well:

 

I ask myself, did I have anything to do with it? The answer is no. It's true that when it happened I was the oldest one there, and I'm sure some people would say I should have been in charge. There was just a minute there where maybe I could have grabbed her, but it happened so fast. besides, you can't possibly be in charge of people who will not give you the time of day. So I refuse to feel the slightest responsibility. I really doÉ(465)

 

Rachel's refusal to accept any responsibility shows exactly how determined she is to prove to herself and others that nothing is ever her fault. She does not feel in any way connected to events that occur during her lifetime, and believes that what happened to her family in the Congo was simply bad luck or the doings of another. She often blames Leah, as well as Nathan, for Ruth May's death.

 

Rachel also believes that she is in no way a part of what is happening to the Congo. She maintains throughout the book that it is best to look out for only yourself and leave others behind if they cannot help you. She shuts her door on all that is happening, and confidently asserts: "You focus on getting your own one little place set up perfect, as I have done, and you'll see. Other people's worries do not necessarily have to drag you down" (516).

 

Although Rachel does not connect herself to the ruin of the Congo, she, out of all the daughters, is probably most responsible. She houses the very men who are taking advantage of the country and its people Rachel also uses money that is desperately needed by the native people, as well as her own sister and brother-in-law, to buy herself fancy clothes, exotic drinks, and new curtains for her guest bedrooms.

 

Over the course of The Poisonwood Bible, Rachel's character changes very little. When she first arrived in the Congo, she was incredibly self-centered and vain. When she leaves the Congo, and even when she has reached the age of fifty, these are still her two main characteristics. Adah remarks: "In spite of remarkable intervening circumstances... if Rachel ever gets back to Bethlehem for a high school reunion she will win the prize for 'Changed the Least"' (494). I believe Rachel's refusal to accept the idea that she may have played a part in Ruth May's death may stem from her desire to lift herself above everything that happened during her family's stay in the Congo. By rejecting her complicity, Rachel is able to forget the ways in which the Congo shaped her life. However, it is possible she may just be a shallow person that cares only about herself.

 

Adah, the lover of palindromes, has many interesting views on life. I believe that although she never directly talks about her complicity in all aspects of life, she feels the connection: "Owning, disowning, recanting, recharting a hateful course of events to make sense of her [Orleanna's] complicity. We all are, I suppose" (492). Once Adah and Orleanna return to the United States, Adah immediately applies to college. This gesture may indicate the guilt and responsibility she felt towards Ruth May's death, for she could have perhaps prevented it with her knowledge of Tata Kuvundundu's doings. While attending college, Adah reflects: "I needed to get out of Bethlehem, out of my skin, my skull, and the ghost of my family... my mind is [now] crowded with a forest of facts. Between the trees lie wide-open plains of despair. I skirt around them. I stick to the woods" (409). Science gave Adah a chance to move past her experiences in the Congo, and her part in Ruth May's death.

 

Adah, like Leah and Orleanna, also realizes her complicity in the bigger picture. Her chosen field of work deals with disease prevention, which in the long run greatly benefits many, many people, including those in Africa. This is her method of righting some of the wrongs her country has done to both the Congo and all of the continent. When Adah admits that she believes all organisms, plants, humans, and viruses alike, have the right to rule the earth, her Mother replies that Adah has no heart for human kind (531). However, Adah knows the truth: "É I have too much [heart]. I know what we have done, and what we deserve" (531).

 

Adah's perception of her active role in life changes throughout the book. When we are first introduced to her character, she is dark and cynical. She believes the world, and especially Leah, has cheated her out of a good life. She does not really feel that her actions affect the world, but only that she is poor Adah, a girl that doesn't matter much, the daughter that is left behind. However, during her stay in Africa, and once she returns to the United States, Adah becomes accepting of the fact that she is not worthless. When Orleanna tells Adah she saved her from Africa because she was the youngest, Adah muses: "It was not a question of my own worth at all. There is no worth. It was a question of positionÉ I find this remarkably comforting. I have decided to live with it" (444). This dramatic change in her character results in Adah's comprehension of her importance in the world, and therefore her actions that make such a big difference.

 

Ruth May, the last daughter, was too young in this story to be expected to have any idea of her complicity in the doings of her country, her people, and those around her. Her innocence keeps her from pondering much beyond the following day. However, in Book Seven, The Eyes in the Trees, Ruth May returns with a great deal of wisdom. Her final words are an attempt to comfort her mother, for she knows her death is responsible for her mother's greatest sorrow. In her last narrative she explains: "If the mother and her children had not come down the path on this day, the pinched tree branches would have grown larger and the fat-bodied spider would have lived. Every life is different because you passed this way and touched history. Even the child Ruth May touched history. Everyone is complicit. The okapi complied by living, the spider by dying" (538). Ruth May now understands exactly how she, and all those around her, are connected with the past, the present, and the future.

 

Each Price woman in this book deals with her complicity in Ruth May's death, and in all of history, in their own ways. Orleanna realizes her connection but does not do much about it. Leah understands her complicity, and therefore devotes her life to helping those who have been perpetrated by her people in a very hands-on manner. Adah also realizes she is a part of all that is happening, and through her laboratory work, makes a difference in the lives of many. Rachel, unlike her mother and sisters, completely refuses to accept any responsibility Ruth May, after her death, puts into words the complicity we all share in life in an attempt to educate those who can hear her.

 

People of today also deal with complicity in different ways. Some are like Rachel and shut their doors on anything that would cause them guilt or displeasure. Some are like Adah and Leah, and devote their lives to making a difference, although the effects of their work may be felt in different ways. However, most people take Orleanna's path. They are aware that their actions are a part of the bigger picture, but fail to do a great deal about it. However, before we further examine this topic, it is important to realize the great extent to which human beings are complicit. For example, anyone and everyone could be deemed responsible for Ruth May's death. Her mother, her father, her sisters, Tata Kuvudundu, Nelson, Anatole, the villagers, the church that sent the Prices to the Congo, and the list goes on. Obviously, our direct actions greatly affect those around us, and although it may be less evident, the less active roles we play in the rights and wrongs of life are just as important. Failing to stand up for something you believe in makes you as guilty as those who are committing the acts you are against. As Ginetta Sagan asserts: "Silence in the face of injustice is complicity with the oppressor" (Harvard Friends of Amnesty International). We are also responsible, in some way, for even the largest problems our world faces today. For example, as the article we read in class ascertained, spending our paychecks on new cars instead of a dying children in Africa makes us obliquely responsible for the hunger, disease, and death ravaging that continent.

 

Now that the degree to which we are complicit has been established, we can look at how much of America deals with the issue. Here at Punahou, most of the students, including myself, have followed Orleanna's example. The vast majority of our student body is aware, in some way or another, that their actions affect their friends, their school, and the outside world. However, we often disregard this knowledge. For example, students cheat during tests everyday although they know it will raise the curve, causing all other students to receive lower scores. It is also safe to say that at least three English classes read the article about complicity, and not one of the students has donated money because of it. Perhaps some of the students went out and did a few hours of community service here and there, but nothing close to what could possibly be done. Like most people, Punahou students simply push aside the knowledge of their complicity and choose to live without worrying too much about it.

 

Now I'm not saying that we, as Americans, are completely bad people. The ability to disregard the knowledge that we are all complicit is a learned behavior. Although we are exposed to wonderful examples, such as Mother Teresa, there are very few of these role models around. Sadly, it is unquestionably true that the majority of our leaders of today, teachers, politicians, etc., are not devoting the time, money, or resources at their disposal to feeding the hungry children in Africa. In the absence of extremely admirable role models, we have learned to sail happily through life by giving a little and feeling good about ourselves. This is evident in Orleanna's observations about human beings: "I know how people are, with their habits of mind. , Most will sail through from cradle to grave with a conscience clean as snow" (9). Another thing that causes our society to disregard our complicity is the fear of guilt we all learn to possess. If one actually takes the time to think long and hard about our role in the makings of history and the determining of the future, it is quite disheartening. In a culture that wants to believe it has behaved admirably and come out on top, this type of guilt is not acceptable, so people become voluntarily oblivious to the knowledge that causes it. In addition to our fear of guilt, people also choose to close their eyes to their complicity because they feel helpless. We all ask ourselves, "What can one person do?Ó Because of this helplessness, we feel it would be pointless to even try.

 

Reading this paper, or writing it for that matter, will probably not change much in the world. Personally, I am most likely not going to devote my life, as Leah and Anatole did, to helping those around me, and I'm sure neither are the readers of this paper. However, I believe it is important that we realize each person's complicity in the actions, feelings, and thoughts of those they are close to, and those they will never meet. As Ruth May tells us, each and every one of us touches the lives of all those who have lived, and all those that have yet to live. Hopefully as our nation continues to change and grow, we will learn to accept our complicity and make greater efforts to do something with this knowledge. Undoubtedly, we are expected to, for in one simple sentence, Leah unveils the truth about human beings: "We have in this story the ignorant, but no real innocents" (447).