“I was eleven when my father left, so neither of us really knew our fathers. I’d met mine of course, but then I only knew my dad as a child knows a parent, as a sort of crude outline filled in with one or two colors. I’d never seen my father scared or cry. I’d never heard him admit to any wrongdoing. I have no idea what he dreamed of. And once I’d seen a smile pinned to one cheek and darkness to the other when my mum had yelled at him. Now he was gone, and I was left with just an impression—one of male warmth, big arms, and loud laughter.”
Analysis:
In this passage, the narrator reflects on his relationship with his father after he left when the narrator was just eleven years old. The metaphor of the father being like a "crude outline filled in with one or two colors" suggests that the narrator's understanding of his father is superficial and lacking in depth. The imagery of a smile pinned to one cheek and darkness to the other when the mother yelled at the father further reveals the complexities of their relationship and the emotions the father may have been hiding. The absence of witnessing his father scared, crying, admitting wrongdoing, or sharing dreams highlights the emotional distance between the narrator and his father. Ultimately, the narrator is left with only a vague impression of his father as a figure of "male warmth, big arms, and loud laughter." This passage conveys a sense of loss, longing, and the impact of parental absence on a child's understanding of their father.
Modern Relevance:
The passage from Lloyd Jones's novel highlights the impact of absentee fathers on a child's perception of masculinity and fatherhood. In today's society, the absence of fathers in families is a growing concern with significant implications for mental health and emotional development. These themes resonate with many individuals who have experienced similar situations in their own lives.
Excerpt from Lloyd Jones' Writing
"I was eleven when my father left, so neither of us really knew our fathers. I’d met mine of course, but then I only knew my dad as a child knows a parent, as a sort of crude outline filled in with one or two colors. I’d never seen my father scared or cry. I’d never heard him admit to any wrongdoing. I have no idea what he dreamed of. And once I’d seen a smile pinned to one cheek and darkness to the other when my mum had yelled at him. Now he was gone, and I was left with just an impression—one of male warmth, big arms, and loud laughter.” - Lloyd Jones"
Reflection Questions:
Reflecting on this passage, consider the following questions:
- How does the narrator's lack of a deep understanding of their father impact their relationship with him?
- In what ways do our perceptions of our parents change as we grow older and experience more of life?
- How do our childhood impressions of our parents shape our understanding of who they are as individuals?
- What do you think the narrator's father was like beyond the "crude outline" painted by the narrator?
- How do you think the absence of a father figure during a crucial developmental stage can affect a child's sense of identity and belonging?
Similar quotes
“I really relate to you,” I said to my dad. “I can tell we’re in the same boat, because I’m rowing.” When I found out I was going to be a father, I wanted to meet a man I’d never met—my dad, who also just found out he was a father when I introduced myself. I never got to tell him I loved him before he died, but from the way I gently but forcefully held his head underwater, I think he could tell.”
“My sister and I were the ones in the family who had seen this as necessary; neither of my brothers felt there was a problem with Dad. And in general when I’d expressed my concern for him, she was the one of my siblings who responded. She and I had also been the ones who sorted through and distributed mother’s possessions after she had died.”
“Did he show himself?” Nash asked, and I glanced to my right to see him staring at my father, as fascinated as I was.My dad nodded. “He was an arrogant little demon.”“So what happened?” I asked.“I punched him.”For a moment, we stared at him in silence. “You punched the reaper?” I asked, and my hand fell from the strainer onto the edge of the sink.“Yeah.” He chuckled at the memory, and his grin brought out one of my own. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen my father smile. “Broke his nose.”
“I’d never seen a man cry before, only on TV. I’d never even seen Dad close to crying. Those tears looked so odd on you. It was like the strength of you just seemed to sap away. The surprise of it stopped me from being so scared.”
“I didn’t drop my arms when his anguish quieted; I was in no hurry to let him go. It seemed as though my body had been starving for this from the beginning, but I’d never understood before now what would feed the hunger. The mysterious bond of mother and child—so strong on this planet—was not a mystery to me any longer. There was no bond greater than one that required your life for another’s. I’d understood this truth before; what I had not understood was why. Now I knew why a mother would give her life for her child, and this knowledge would forever shape the way I saw the universe.”