So what do we do with the fact that we know Mr. Shiftlet is leaving in The Life You Save May Be Your Own? Naratologically, it builds tension.
In my theatre history class today we were talking about Epic theatre. An aspect of Epic Theatre (specifically as written/produced by Ersin Piscator) is that an actor would occasionally come on stage and tell exactly what was going to happen in the following scene. That would change the audience’s focus from watching what was happening to focus instead on how it was happening.
The fact we know Mr. Shiftlet is looking to get out of the place with the car makes this story even more of a case study of character. Instead of saying, “Is he going to take the car and leave them high and dry?” Instead, we ask, “I wonder why he feels it is so necessary to marry the daughter? Can’t he just take the car and go? Is it that he needs more money?” If our newfound wariness of helpful strangers isn’t enough, O’Connor writes in an obsession with the car for this man. He eyes the car and needs to make sure the car will start. He paints the car. For heaven’s sake, the Mother even puts Mr. Shiftlet there to stay! There is too much of a fixation there to ignore some sort of foreshadowing; we know he’s rollin’ out of the farm on those four wheels.
On that note, there was still a part of me that wanted to believe that maybe this story would be different. Maybe this unknown stranger will be a nice guy. But trial and error with O’Connor’s stories has lead me to know that a stranger coming to town, asking for work, and doing a really good job is actually an omen of the bottom dropping out of the “good things” bucket. Never mind whether or not they feel any sort of remorse, it is still a bad idea—especially if the farm owners really need the help…
P.S. Who is the title for/from?