49 pages • 1 hour read
Jason ReynoldsA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
A strong theme of recognizing, noting, and appreciating the beauty of life runs throughout The Boy in the Black Suit. Matt’s central conflict, in fact, surrounds the challenge to regain a positive outlook and sound footing with peers, neighbors, and himself after the loss of his mother. His bitterness is subtle and under the surface, but it's evident in his remarks about flowers others gave his mother in her last days: “I stared at the flowers and thought about just trashing them since they’d be dead by the morning anyway. Pointless” (37). He indicates that life and beauty are pointless because they are finite.
Matt's conflict increases at his mother’s funeral in a vocal and public way, as he indicates with words he could say to Chris but does not: “I’m sorry you weren’t there for me, but it doesn’t matter, because even if you were, you wouldn’t be able to feel what I feel. Nobody can. Even the preacher said so” (3). This statement evokes a tone of isolation and loneliness, compounded by his father’s accident and subsequent months-long absence, leaving Matt to flounder his way alone through the initial stages of grief. Consequently, Matt finds it especially difficult to see any beauty in life; struggling against an overwhelming sadness, he instead fixates on and attends funerals of strangers so that he can commune with the person most affected by the death. Their pain gives him a “warm” feeling that replaces any beauty, and he is glad to know he is in fact not alone in his emotions. Matt never speaks to the family member at these funerals; it is his rule to avoid the repast and any fellowship with them afterwards, stopping short of sharing in any celebration of the beauty of the life that passed, and keeping himself apart and alone.
This changes when Love’s reaction at her grandmother’s funeral does not supply the “warm” communal feeling of grief to Matt—because Love’s appreciation for the beautiful life of her grandmother genuinely outweighs her sadness. Matt’s eyes open to the possibility that life can be beautiful despite the pain of losing loved ones. Love tells him she even managed to overcome her deep sadness after losing her own mother at age seven, and later we learn that her it was through her trips to the Botanic Garden with her grandmother that helped her move forward. Her grandmother let Love know that appreciating the beautiful things in life, like the intricacy of flowers and plants, is possible despite grief, and that photographs can help one remember that beauty even after the beautiful things have passed.
Matt is skeptical of Love’s lesson until he discovers the Sempervivum. He cannot deny his immediate respect for its strength, endurance, and beauty, and he takes a photo of it. When Love gives him his own Sempervivum to raise, causing him to miss the moment of explosive grief in Andre’s mother, the beauty of the plant’s life is a literal and figurative replacement for his need to get that “warm” feeling from others’ sadness. He can transition now to appreciating the beauty of life, and the warmth comes from thinking about his mother.
Mr. Ray’s emotional journey parallels Matt’s regarding his thought on life’s beauty. He shows Matt his “pain room” where he has spent long hours of his life mourning the good things he lost; his theory on the card game War versus his thoughts on chess show Matt that Mr. Ray thinks fate rules one’s life. After Mr. Ray realizes that Martin Gandrey, whom he held responsible for the loss of his basketball career, is in a homeless shelter, he recalls that so many parts of life are beautiful and worthy of appreciation, if one knows to “smell the flowers.” (245).
Situations and events unexpectedly connect throughout the book. Some are coincidental and provide points of connection between characters.
For example, Candy Man, whom Matt has only just met for the first time, says he knows the restaurant where Matt’s parents worked, which gives Candy Man a concrete detail about Matt upon which Candy Man can ground their conversation. Matt also realizes that, coincidentally, he saw Candy Man on the train to the cemetery the day before. Another coincidental connection is the last funeral; the deceased, Andre Watson, is the boy whom Matt and Love both recall from the Cluck Bucket on the day Matt sought a job.
Other situations are ironic; the opposite of what the reader expects will happen occurs instead of the anticipated outcome. An example of situational irony exists with Cork Ray’s role in the plot; Cork is an alcoholic whose actions contribute to Jackson Miller’s accident. This is ironic because the reader would not expect any member of Mr. Ray’s family to cause injury or trouble to the Millers, as Mr. Ray is so highly esteemed in the neighborhood and kind to Matt’s family. Another situational irony exists with the timing of Jackson Miller’s accident. It is unexpected that Matt loses his father’s presence and support so soon after losing his mother; his father’s accident requires a lengthy hospital stay, leaving Matt to care for himself. Like the coincidences, these situational ironies support the lesson about life that Mr. Ray shares with Matt: life cannot be planned and executed in moves like chess; many unexpected and coincidental events occur in one’s life, so a fixed plan cannot maintain effectiveness.
These smaller coincidences and ironies foreshadow bigger events in the book that are both coincidental and deeply ironic, such as Matt’s realization on Thanksgiving night that Martin Gandrey (Candy Man) turns out to be Mr. Ray’s nemesis from years ago. This moment strongly supports Mr. Ray’s point about the unpredictability of life, as Mr. Ray himself is deeply surprised. Ironically, Mr. Ray has no ill will toward Gandrey once he learns Gandrey lives in a homeless shelter; in fact, he states that he is sad to see what Gandrey became.
The biggest combination coincidence and irony is Matt’s realization that Love’s path crossed with his once before, though neither realize it until he broaches the idea of Valentine’s Day and Love shares the reason why the holiday upsets her so much. Matt recalls that night at Chris’s sleepover as a confusing, violent, sad, and scary night; ironically, to Matt, Love’s demeanor and actions at her grandmother’s funeral and on Thanksgiving Day at the homeless shelter represent the opposite emotions: clarity, peace, joy, and contentment. Once more, a coincidental irony proves to Matt that the unexpected events in life make planning difficult; endurance and hope are stronger traits, more suitable for survival. Mr. Ray tells Matt that a player of War should continue to flip cards until he or she succeeds; Matt does this figuratively when he and Love decide to try another date despite the strange, harsh irony they discover about Love’s mother’s death.
Matt, Love, and Mr. Ray each find ways to self-comfort in their respective times of grief. Matt discovers comfort at the funerals of strangers. He is inexplicably drawn to attend the first funeral he helps set up with Mr. Ray. Matt accepted the job spontaneously and is not prepared with appropriate clothing, necessitating the borrowing of Mr. Ray’s ill-fitting jacket. This prompts him to wear his own black suit daily, finding comfort in its fit and purpose. Matt realizes there is something communal about grief that connects each person closest to the deceased at each funeral he attends. He finds himself drawn eagerly to the moment when the top mourner breaks down in an “explosion” of sadness. Knowing in that moment that he is not alone in his overwhelming grief provides him with comfort.
Love learned how to deal with her grief from her grandmother, who cared for Love after Love’s mother died. Love and her grandmother went often to the Botanic Garden so that Love could see the beauty of life and capture it in photographs. Love enjoyed and appreciated that comfort and took up photography as a hobby and potential career interest. Her grandmother also took Love to volunteer at the shelter, giving Love an appreciation for life in all its ups and downs. These comforts and her grandmother’s instruction and inspiration lead Love to process her grief more effectively than Matt does on his own; consequently, she maintains a more joyful, celebratory tone when speaking at her grandmother’s funeral, which mystifies Matt as he watches for the “explosion” that never comes.
Mr. Ray seeks comfort in his early life when he loses his basketball career and his young wife Ella. He collects materials to hang in the basement of his home and retreats there often in his grief: “I used to sleep down here […] around all my sadness. But I always kept upstairs all clean and new because I didn’t want nobody to know about this […] my pain room.” (106). Mr. Ray seeks comfort in isolation and separation, wanting to remove his grief from his day-to-day life involving the funeral home business, his home, and his brothers. Mr. Ray still feels a sense of this grief, keeping the basement room throughout his life and spending most of Thanksgiving Day there. Mr. Ray’s “pain room” symbolizes the grief that never fully fades when a loved one is lost.
By Jason Reynolds