quisquis ab eventu facta notanda putat!"
Doctorow’s Ragtime is a difficult read because of the many plot points that it strings together so freely. Of these narratives, the most significant is most likely Coalhouse Walker’s transformation from a well-spoken ragtime pianist to a revenge-seeking terrorist. This metamorphosis is outlined by a journey that drags Coalhouse through a corrupt legal system (Doctorow 178, 185) after he encounters the Emerald Isle volunteer firefighting division and his Ford Model T is vandalized by a mob (Doctorow 177). He then resorts to arson, killing 4 random firefighters (Doctorow, 205). Usually, an agitation of this scale isn’t warranted by this background, especially for someone as articulate as Coalhouse, but there are two major points that can semi-rationalize this provoked response: Sarah’s death, and the idea of being trapped underneath an unequal society.
On the simpler end, Sarah’s death could have just screwed with Coalhouse’s mental state. The death of someone so close to him certainly would have caused some sort of trauma, and trauma is known to cause irrational behaviors (SAMHSA, 66-68). However, there is also defense for Coalhouse in the environment he has been brought up in. At this time, it is very difficult for Coalhouse and other African Americans to pursue consolation through normal means in the legal system. In fact, when a policeman arrives at the scene, after Will Conklin and Coalhouse say their piece, the policeman makes his decision: “He said to Coalhouse I’m placing you under arrest” (Doctorow, 178). Herein lies the biggest issue. Despite the evidence glaringly siding with Coalhouse, the policeman still sides with Conklin, yet these two are not co-conspirators. The justice system isn't explicitly meant to shut down Coalhouse, but it is still clearly directed against him, and there is nothing he can do about it, at least by legal means. There are very few options Coalhouse can take on that could possibly make a difference, and he chooses the most explosive, literally and figuratively.
Of course, this kind of reaction is still inexcusable. While rationally demanding that the damages to his car be paid for and Conklin face justice, Coalhouse simultaneously turns to domestic terrorism (Doctorow, 205). The repercussions of this escalation are worsened after he starts building a following. The young men assisting Coalhouse in his militant behavior are less of a following and more of a cult. First of all, these followers “...believed they were going to die in a spectacular manner” (Doctorow, 245) and also “...were so transformed as to speak of themselves collectively as Coalhouse” (Doctorow, 246). These are examples of martyrdom and excessive reverence, which are definitely signs of cult-like behavior. Furthermore, Coalhouse also has an effect on people like Mother’s Younger Brother—people who are not necessarily related to his cause but are “lost” and searching for a purpose in life.
Due to the conflicting nature of these views, it is very difficult to make any good analysis based on either of the two. Luckily, there’s a way to deal with this dilemma: viewing Coalhouse’s terrorism as an inevitability. While this period doesn’t have widespread slavery, it has a lot of widespread discrimination, and that is the main obstacle Coalhouse tries (and fails) to get around. As previously stated, there is nothing he can do about the justice system. He has 3 options; either continuing to chase a legal means of compensation, proven futile as his goals fade into obsolescence; forfeiting his mission and leaving everything as is, disgracing his dignified persona; or attempting to be seen by resorting to extremism. There is no winning option for him, so Coalhouse chooses the one that will give the greatest likelihood of changing something. In more abstract terms, Coalhouse the pianist is capable of making this decision, and Coalhouse the terrorist is a force of nature brought on by circumstance.
In the end, there is no clean analysis or resolution that can be taken out of this. Coalhouse walks on a very thin ethical tightrope—he is an easily sympathetic victim whose hand was forced by an unjust system, but he is also a radical extremist that has resorted to terrorism to obtain his goals. In his transformation, Coalhouse forfeits his dignified persona, and with it, his moral high ground over Conklin. If Coalhouse had not gone through this whole process, the environment that served as the breeding ground for Coalhouse would have done the same to someone else. As a result, that new person would likely have acted in Coalhouse’s place for their own troubles. The true tragedy of Coalhouse’s story is that a society existed where the turn from a good man to a violent arsonist seemed like the only option for equality.
Works Cited
Doctorow, E. L. Ragtime. New York City, Random House, 2007.
Ovid. Heroides. The Latin Library, edited by William L. Carey, https://www.thelatinlibrary.com/ovid/ovid.her2.shtml.
SAMHSA. “Understanding the Impact of Trauma.” National Library of Medicine, Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (US), 2014, www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK207191/.
Hlelo Leo, I love your point that "Coalhouse the terrorist is more of a force of nature brought on by external conditions," and I agree with you that while not justified, the actions that took were in a sense forced to happen by the system. However, I disagree with your statement that if Coalhouse hadn't done anything, somebody else would have suffered the same fate. As (fictional) Booker T. Washington said, Coalhouse set the progress made in civil rights back by 10,000 good men (something like that), and while his actions caused hate towards Conklin and caused fear within the town, I don't believe it in anyway stopped racism as a whole.
ReplyDeleteWe might view Coalhouse's "transformation" from sophisticated artist/musician to revenger-seeking-justice/terrorist as a result of a sequence of traumas, which culminates in Sarah's death: the original harassment, plus the added gaslighting of everyone in a position of authority insisting it's not that big a deal, would stoke his sense of isolation and deep frustration, and the utter absurdity of Sarah's death puts him in an even more desperate position. It's not that we see him as a dualistic character, who contains both of these aspects (artist/musician and revolutionary) simultaneously: when he transforms into revenger/revolutionary/militant, he leaves his musical persona completely behind. When describing the Coalhouse headquarters, Doctorow is clear to indicate that there is "no music." The members of the Coalhouse gang are apparently NOT members of his band. His life is divided into before and after--once he goes all in for revolution, there's no turning back. And the same appears to be true for MYB.
ReplyDeleteHi Leo, thinking about the morality of Coalhouse's actions is really interesting because he's kind of obviously in the wrong, except I still found myself rooting for him. The book really sets Coalhouse's story up as a tragedy; he's a victim of racism that ultimately gets his fiancée killed. The reader understands why he is so furious with Willie Conklin and the fire department, and also understands that he's taking it too far, but simultaneously wants to see him burn the whole place down. I felt like his story became especially sad near the end, when his regrets were starting to show through and he just wanted his boys to be able to go home unharmed, no matter what it will mean for him. I think it's interesting how the book is able to make us see Coalhouse as a revolutionary over something so seemingly miniscule as a car, and I really liked how you talk about the dilemma that Coalhouse ends up backing himself into. Great post, Leo!
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