"...men who carry their frail but indefatigable shoulders
the best of two worlds -- and who,
amidst confusion and stagnation,
seek desperately for a home for their hearts:
a home which, if found,
could be a home for the hearts of all men"
Reading this, I was drawn back to my first impression of Bigger's aimless restlessness in Native Son. I remember perceiving the "red hot iron" Bigger feels, as comparable to a chronic illness without a cure, with an ever-present unarticulated fear that cannot stay at the forefront of one's mind in order for one to maintain their sanity in just getting out of bed every morning and going about daily life. This constriction that Bigger feels reminds me of Paul D's doubts of his own "manhood" and his sealed tobacco tin in Beloved. What Wright suggests in his epigraph however, is a constancy that transcends a daily routine, a truer, deeper constancy people yearn for (or at least believe themselves to).
In my initial perception of Bigger's aimless constriction, I had thought that perhaps Bigger would be "freer" if he knew better how to articulate who the "somebody" pushing the iron down his throat is, who to fear, or who to hold accountable (perhaps even God). This awareness of hate or fear -- which Max is able to articulate to an extent -- is surely a form of constancy and sense of stability; evident in how Paul D is made confused about his own worth and how he should actually feel about Mr. Garner. As in Wright's poem, however, Morrison seems also to suggest that articulating what or who to love and fully believe in is more powerful. Sethe speaks of the beauty of having milk for all her children and this Paul D understands; the freedom of having unlimited love to spare, stronger than his aspen tree. This sentiment is reflected in "Nikki Rosa" by Nikki Giovanni -- which Athena discussed in class on Friday -- in the line that reads, "Black love is Black wealth." In this way, we see how love can be affected by but is by no means defined by circumstance. Circumstance can make someone like Paul D guard his love carefully or it can make someone like Sethe commit to its transcendent power in a dangerous manner.
It is the greatest constancy yearned for by all the characters in the novel and yet there seems to be the implication that this source of stability may be impossible to achieve. In fact, love seems to be one of the most unstable concepts of the novel thus far. Denver waits for a father she doesn't know has gone crazy. Paul D, after moving from place to place with his aspen tree of love was moved by Sethe, thought himself to have finally found a home for his heart only to begin to fall apart; to have his tobacco tin opened. Perhaps, ultimately, at least in the setting of what I have read so far in Beloved -- I'm inclined to believe my conclusion will change -- love cannot conquer all. As evident in Stamp Paid's contemplation, Baby Suggs threw herself into using her heart to heal others, preaching "the word," only to find that "they still came into her yard." Love does not seem to be enough to combat circumstance and the constricting chronic fear that tires their marrow until they can take no more.
At this point, I'm not sure what the conclusion of the book will ultimately suggest, however. The dangerous love between Sethe, Beloved, and Denver, in which they each seem to find a part of themselves in each other may prove Baby Suggs wrong.