All that she had, and all that she had missed, were lost together, and were twice lost in this landslide of remembered losses.That quote appears at the end of the largest paragraph on page 64 (and it's such a beautiful paragraph, by the way). I look at the main character in "Theft" as a woman who has indeed lost a lot of things, including her own identity. Her name is never given in the story. She isn't firm about matters of importance even when she intends to be (pg. 63). In the cab, Roger tells her that Stella (a woman who's relationship to Roger is never expressly stated, but who still merits actual naming in the story) has "made up her mind," and our leading lady responds with, "I had a sort of letter today too, making up my mind for me." Upon second reading, I saw a sort of pattern with this woman of being agreeable, not wishing to make a fuss, floating gracefully but without attachment from one casual interaction to another. The men in the story - Camilo, Eddie, Roger, Bill, and the man who wrote the letter (which I actually think might be Eddie, but I can't say if that's an intended conclusion or one I just made up) - all see her in different ways and use her for different purposes. In my eyes, they're all characters in her life just as momentary and replaceable as the drunk men who stumble along in front of her taxi cab.
On page 63, the situation arises with the stolen purse and the janitress. For the first time in the story, the woman has an emotional reaction, and it's inspired by another example of the pattern she's stuck in - being pleasant.
Certainly the janitress had taken the purse, and certainly it would be impossible to get it back without a great deal of ridiculous excitement. Then let it go. With this decision of her mind, there rose coincidentally in her blood a deep almost murderous anger.Even after this anger fills her, Porter characterizes her moves as careful and steady. Her words to the janitress are calm, and at one point she even offers to just let the janitress take the purse outright (pg. 65).
I look at the title - "Theft" - as applying to more than just the purse. The things she claims to have lost in the aforementioned paragraph on page 64 were not so much lost or misplaced as they were taken. It's easy enough to place the blame for this theft on the man who wrote the letter, but the story's last line accuses someone else.
She laid the purse on the table and sat down with the cup of chilled coffee, and thought: I was right not to be afraid of any thief but myself, who will end by leaving me nothing.
Tags: Porter, reflective, Sara Staheli, Theft
1 Comment:
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- Chelsea Lane said...
February 11, 2008 at 8:19 PMOf course we noticed and loved the same thine. Of course we did. :)
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