35 pages • 1 hour read
Michael CunninghamA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Both the story’s title and one of its key symbols, the white angel is a statue in the cemetery that borders the Morrows’ house: “A single stone angel, small-breasted and determined, rose amid the more conservative markers close to our house” (1). The description of the statue as “determined” suggests the statue’s importance and enhances its connection to another determined character, Carlton. She is something exceptional among the otherwise “conservative” markers of the cemetery—she is thus like Carlton, a determined and original presence within a more conservative context.
The statue appears three times in the story, first as a standout symbol of determination and flight within a sea of conservative gravestones. She next appears when Bobby imagines going out to stand where Carlton stood that fateful night: “The moon will be full. I will hang out just as Carlton must have, hypnotized by the silver light on the stones, the white angel raising her arms across the river” (13). Just as with the word “determined,” Bobby’s description of how the angel raises her arms suggests she is alive and has intentions. Her final appearance follows Carlton’s death, when Bobby thinks of his grave in the cemetery behind the house as a “small gray finger” that sits “within sight of the angel’s blank white eyes” (14). In every prior appearance, the angel seems alive, but here her eyes are “blank.” Nevertheless, they also see, as Carlton’s stone is “within sight.” The angel is finally a silent, inanimate guardian of Carlton’s grave, where before she was almost his parallel. In a sense, Carlton is now the white angel, a symbolic convergence of arrested flight and death. The white angel’s symbolism brings together many of the story’s themes about the proximity of life and death, and the recklessness of youth. Carlton believes he can fly and that there’s nothing to fear, though in the end he dies and becomes, like the white angel, a symbol of life arrested.
The grandfather clock appears several times and illustrates several things. First, the clock dramatizes the father’s attempt to leave something behind for his sons—an attempt crushed when Carlton dies before he does. Here already the clock undergirds a motif of futility (a quality the father also embodies), but it’s also a figure for time itself and the human desire to measure and control it; this desire for control, too, is futile.
The clock is first mentioned when Bobby hears the sound of his father’s tinkering carrying up from the basement. The clock is, notably, a grandfather clock, so it is long and rectangular like a coffin—a “long wooden box” (3), and later descriptions are similar. Of course, the reader knows Carlton will soon die, as Bobby reveals this at the beginning of the story. The clock is therefore linked to Carlton’s diminishing time on earth. At one point standing close to his brother, Bobby thinks, “I can feel Carlton’s heart ticking” (4). Later, when the family has fragmented under the weight of their grief, Bobby finds his father in the hallway wandering in his pajamas near the clock: “The grandfather clock chimes the quarter hour” (15). He puts his father to bed and listens as his father’s bedside clock “ticks off the minutes” (14). This new, bedside ticking represents how time feels heavier in grief, when you are only living automatically, minute-by-minute, rather than with purpose. Time keeps moving on for the characters, even when their world stops.
This motif of flight occurs in many forms. At several points, certain characters are compared to birds. When Bobby runs from the cemetery after seeing Carlton and his girlfriend, he says, “[M]y heart beats fast as a sparrow’s” (5), and later, “[M]y heart works itself up into a hummingbird’s rate” (6). At the party, he compares his dancing father to a “flightless bird”; metaphorically, flight is easier for young people. Carlton and Bobby discover this when they are high on acid and believe they are flying. When Carlton says they’re about to “fly,” Bobby is fully credulous—and he insists that this very credulity is the secret to flight. Later at the party, Bobby is tipsy on the couch and “dreaming of flight” (11) when his mother wakes him and makes him go to bed.
Planes appear several times and have diverse symbolism. They represent escape and ascendency, but also death and disaster. Near the beginning of the story, Bobby remembers that a family of four were killed when a single-engine plane fell out of the sky, and he recalls the family again after his and Carlton’s psychedelic “flight.” His mother’s first husband was killed in a plane crash, and after Carlton dies, planes become symbols of escape: “[A]bove us, airplanes and satellites sparkle. People are flying even now toward New York or California” (14). Notably, Carlton’s friend Frank claims to have seen a UFO in the sky outside, and this is why everyone rushes into the garden. This event ultimately leads to Carlton’s death. Flight is metaphorical and represents transcendence, escape, optimism, risk, and death.
Woodstock (and Yasgur’s Farm, the site of the festival), which is mentioned several times, symbolizes the 1960s counterculture that Carlton and Bobby want to join. The festival brought together some of the biggest music acts of that era for what was advertised as “Three days of Peace and Music.” It was an optimistic event and a cornerstone of the counterculture in many ways, and this spirit—bringing people together over music—inspires Carlton to bring his friends to his parents’ party (Bobby calls his decision a “Woodstock move”). Woodstock represents the idealistic underpinning of Carlton’s risk-seeking. He yearns for revolution, liberation, and experimentation—whether through drugs, sex, or music—and he takes Bobby along for the ride.
This motif allows the author to signal generational differences: The young people listen to the Rolling Stones and Bob Dylan and revere Woodstock, while the older generation play instruments or sing old music from the 1940s. Bobby’s father is a musician and a high school music teacher, and Bobby takes comfort in hearing him playing clarinet in the basement:
If I put my ear to the floor I can hear him, pulling a low tomcat moan out of that horn. There is some strange comfort in pressing my ear to the carpet and hearing our father’s music leaking out through the floorboards. Lying down, with my ear to the floor, I join in on my harmonica (9).
Music is both a solo, quiet activity for the father (something pursued out of sight, in the basement), while for Bobby it is an opportunity for connection. At the same time, after Carlton tracks mud across the house, Bobby’s mother sings to soothe herself in the kitchen—a 1940s tune that Bobby imagines is tied to jukeboxes in her earlier life. Music connects her to her past and allows her to escape into her memories.
When Bobby’s parents throw the party, things are subdued until Carlton’s friends take control of the music and people start dancing—not just adults and teenagers but, even more extraordinarily, teachers and students. In the kitchen, Bobby encounters his father listening seriously to The Rolling Stones and wondering if he, a music teacher, has been too rigid with his students. Inspired by the Stones, he remarks that maybe Bobby and Carlton can teach him more about young people’s music tastes. Music represents generational change, and while it shows the differences between the characters, it also has the power to connect them. When Bobby is sent to bed from the party, the music taunts him with the sense of what he is missing out on: “Later I lie alone on my narrow bed, feeling the music hum in the coiled springs […] By tomorrow, no one will be quite the same. How can they let me miss it?” (12). Being around the music is not just about partying; it is about witnessing a transformation.
By Michael Cunningham