rorriM eht ni fleS fo esneS

            Identity has been a huge theme in this semester’s books, from Howie to Clarissa to Jake to Gregor to Meursault to Antoinette, and lastly, to Milkman. In several of the books there have been key scenes in which the characters view themselves in a mirror and have some sort of major self-reflection: When Clarissa “assembles” herself in front of the mirror, when Meursault glances in the mirror and only notices the corner edge of a table, the “looking-glass” references in Wide Sargasso Sea, etc are all important moments that really show the protagonist’s character (or lack thereof) and their own view of themselves.  In Song of Solomon Milkman has a similar experience:

Milkman stood before his mirror and glanced, in the low light of the wall lamp, at his reflection.  He was, as usual, unimpressed with what he saw.  He had a fine enough face.  Eyes women complimented him on, a firm jaw line, splendid teeth.  Taken apart, it looked all right.  Even better than all right.  But it lacked coherence, a coming together of the features into a total self.  It was all very tentative, the way he looked, like a man peeping around a corner of someplace he is not supposed to be, trying to make up his mind whether to go forward or to turn back.  The decision he made would be extremely important, but the way in which he made the decision would be careless, haphazard, and uninformed.  (70)

Milkman’s life from the outside looks fine, even better than fine, but on the inside he lacks a clear identity.  All the tiny parts of Milkman’s life seem normal, but he hasn’t figured out how to put them together to create who he really is.  He has been told all these little bits and pieces of his family’s past from his father, mother, and Pilate, but has no definite truths that he can hold onto. 

            This one paragraph has so much more meaning after finishing the book than when I initially read it.  Milkman’s indecision to “go forward” to “someplace he is not supposed to be” seems to be a clear reference to him breaking into Pilate’s house and his quest for the gold. The uninformed decision he makes could be how he breaks up with Hagar.  It is an extremely important decision, even costing Hagar’s life, and is most definitely careless, haphazard, and uninformed.   This whole passage is extremely interesting in comparison with how Hagar reacts to seeing herself in the mirror. He does not care nearly as much and does not seem to really have a problem that he lacks a “total self”.  The “tentativeness” of his face also applies to his approach to all of his decisions.  He never truly makes a decision for himself in the entire novel besides hitting his father.  Morrison notes this when he is arguing with Guitar about how they are going to steal the gold from Pilate:

He felt a self inside himself emerge, a clean-lined definite self.  A self that could join the choruses at Railroad Tommy’s with more than laughter.  He could tell this.  The only real confrontation he’d had was hitting his father, but that wasn’t the kind of story that stirred the glitter up in the eyes of the old men in Tommy’s.  (184)

The gold not only drives the plot of the novel, but gives Milkman a sense of purpose and like he points out here, a sense of self. Milkman’s identity is formed through his quest for the gold, and more importantly, for his family’s history.