The Gildes Six Bits - analisi + commento

The Gilded Six Bits

by Zora Neale Hurston

• afroamericana - povera
• Harlem Renaissance
• scrive un romanzo "Their Eyes Were Watching God"
• scrive vari racconti che la mettono in contatto con autori di NY importanti
• scrive un saggio sulla storia degli afroam
• diventa l'antropologa alla Columbia University

• raccoglie cultura afroamericana - musica/abitudini
• importante anche per applicare il "Black English" (e ciò lude ad usarlo)

• 1937: trattato di linguistica sul Black English
• lo già da una dignità accademica allo stesso livello delle altre lingue
• proprio perché vuole creare cultura afroamericana

1927:

titolo → "6 monete dorate"

• placcato d'oro = truffa/imbroglio/trucco = di nessun valore

tema freccia prima storia d’amore scritta da un’afroamericana

• triangolo amoroso che viene scomposto tra una coppia afroamericana e un personaggio che si atteggia da riccone (da cui si fanno infatuare)

• lei : si comporta da prostituta per ottenere la ricchezza
• lui : se ne accorge
• ma poi si riappacificano alla fine del racconto

protagonisti

• MISSIE HAY
• JOE
• SLAMMONS che ostenta alla ricchezza

tema gravita con quarto di dollaro dorato

di Orlando proprietario gelateria dorato

che si è arricchito nel panciatto

ambientazione

quartiere popolare → afroamericano

in campagna → poi in città: Orlando (Florida)

narratore

Extradiegetico → conosce tutti i fatti

esterno

in 3^a persona

riesce a saltare da un

punto all'altro del racconto

testo come una parabola

= testo morale

ironia

• tutti i personaggi vengono traditi

ciò nonostante impedisce ai propri personaggi di essere

sopraffatti dal tradimento

= cita capote che per i suoi personaggi (popolari)

è meglio trovare una questione di riscatto

me do scoppio di un conflitto

se tradimento con un bianco

più difficilmente riscatto situazione

bimbo sarebbe morto

(si capisca tradimento)

The Gilded Six-Bits

Very little talk during the meal but that little consisted of banter that pretended to deny affection but in reality flaunted it. Like when Missie May reached for a second helping of the tater pone. Joe snatched it out of her reach.

After Missie May had made two or three unsuccessful grabs at the pan, she begged, “Aw, Joe gimme some mo’ dat tater pone.”

“Nope, sweetenin’ is for us men-folks. Y’all pritty lil frail eels don’t need nothin’ lak dat. You too sweet already.”

“Please, Joe.”

“Naw, naw. Ah don’t want you to git no sweeter than whut you is already. We goin’ down de road a lil piece t’night so you go put on yo’ Sunday-go-to-meetin’ things.”

Missie May looked at her husband to see if he was playing some prank. “Sho nuff, Joe?”

“Yeah. We goin’ to de ice cream parlor.”

“Where de ice cream parlor at, Joe?”

“A new man done come heah from Chicago and he done got a place and took and opened it up for a ice cream parlor, and bein’ as it’s real swell, Ah wants you to be one de first ladies to walk in dere and have some set down.”

“Do Jesus, Ah ain’t knowed nothin’ ‘bout it. Who de man done it?”

“Mister Otis D. Slemmons, of spots and places—Memphis, Chicago, Jacksonville, Philadelphia and so on.”

“Dat’s a new one on me. He got any gold teet...?

“Yeah. Where did you see ’im at?”

“Ah went down to do sto’ to gitch uh box of lye and Ah seen ’im standin’ on de corner talkin’ to some of de mens, and Ah come on back and went to scrubbin’ de floor, and he passed and tipped his hat whist Ah was scournin’ de steps. Ah thought Ah never seen him befo’.”

Joe smiled pleasantly. “Yeah, he’s up to date. He got de finest clothes Ah ever seen on a colored man’s back.”

“Aw, he don’t look no better in his clothes than you do in yourn. He got a puzzlegut on him and he so chuckle-headed, he got a bone behind his neck.”

Joe looked down at his own abdomen and said wistfully, “Wish’t Ah had a build on me lak he got. He ain’t puzzle-gutted, honey. He jes’ got a corp’oration. Dat make ’m look lak a rich white man. All rich mens is got some belly on ’em.”

“Ah seen de pitchers of Henry Ford and he’s a spare-built man and Rockefeller look lak he ain’t but got one gut. But Ford and Rockefeller and dis Slemmons and all de rest kin be as many-gutted as dey please, Ah’m satisfied wid you jes’ lak you is, baby. God know dat pattern after a pine tree and build you noble. Youse a pritty man, and if Ah knowed any way to make you mo’ pritty shill Ah’d take and do it.”

Joe reached over gently and toyed with Missie May’s ear. “You jes’ say dat cause you love me. But Ah know Ah cain’t hold no light to Otis D. Slemmons. Ah ain’t never been nowhere and Ah ain’t got nothin’ but you.”

Missie May put her hand in his lap and kissed him and he kissed back in kind. Then he went on. “All de womens is crazy ’bout ’im everywhere he go.”

ZORA NEALE HURSTON

thought came clawing at her. He had come home to bury from her as if she

were any woman in the long house. Fifty cents for her love. As if to say that

he could pay as well as Slemmons. She slid the coin into his Sunday pants

pocket and dressed herself and left his house.

Halfway between her house and the quarters⁹ she met her husband’s

mother, and after a short talk she turned and went back home. Never

would she admit defeat to that woman who prayed for it nightly. If she had

not the substance of marriage she had the outside show. Joe must leave her.

She let him see she didn’t want his gold four-bits too.

She saw no more of the coin for some time though she knew that Joe

could not help finding it in his pocket. But his health kept poor, and he

came home at least every ten days to be rubbed.

The sun swept around the horizon, trailing its robes of weeks and days.

One morning as Joe came in from work, he found Missie May chopping

wood. Without a word he took the ax and chopped a huge pile before he

stopped.

“You ain’t got no business choppin’ wood, and you know it.”

“How come? Ah been choppin’ it for de last longest.”

“Ah ain’t blind. You makin’ feet for shoes.”

“Won’t you be glad to have a lil baby chile, Joe?”

“You know dat ‘thout astin’ me.”

“Iss gointer be a boy chile and de very spit of you.”

“You reckon, Missie May?”

“Who else could it look lak?”

Joe said nothing, but he thrust his hand deep into his pocket and fin-

gered something there.

It was almost six months later Missie May took to bed and Joe went and

got his mother to come wait on the house.

Missie May delivered a fine boy. Her travail was over when Joe came in

from work one morning. His mother and the old woman were drinking

great bowls of coffee around the fire in the kitchen.

The minute Joe came into the room his mother called him aside.

“How did Missie May make out?” he asked quickly.

“Who, dat gal? She strong as a ox. She gointer have plenty mo’. We done

fixed her wid de sugar and lard to sweeten her for de nex’ one.”

Joe stood silent awhile.

“You ain’t ast’ ‘bout de baby, Joe. You oughtte be mighty proud cause

he is de spittin’ image of yuh, son. Dat’s yourn all right, if you never git

another one, dat un is yourn. And you know Ah’m mighty proud too, son,

‘cause Ah never thought well of you marryin’ Missie May cause her ma

used tuh fan her foot round right smart and Ah been mighty skeered dat

Missie May was gointer git misput on her road.”

Joe said nothing. He fooled around the house till late in the day then just

before he went to work, he went and stood at the foot of the bed and asked

his wife how she felt. He did this every day during the week.

On Saturday he went to Orlando to make his market. It had been a long

time since he had done that.