The four interludes of Yonnondio, From the Thirties by Tillie Ohlsen are crucial to the overall text. Constance Coiner describes them as narrative intrusions. These do not only alter but also deepen the story. Olsen uses these interludes to explain in her own unique way the causes of and the solutions for Holbrooks’ dire situation. The interludes in the book are crucial to understanding its impact.
Olsen uses art to spread propaganda. Olsen takes it a step farther than merely telling the story of hardships faced by a family during the 1920s. She uses her writings to spread her political views. Olsen uses her writings to communicate to her readership that revolution may be the panacea Holbrooks has been seeking. Olsen believes that her audience is more intelligent than she is, and therefore incorporates these didactic passages in order to clarify the necessity for rebellion. Olsen chose to include the narrative interruptions because, she felt, the novel wouldn’t be as effective without them. Holbrooks’ perspective is quite limited, and therefore, it was necessary to provide additional explanation.
First, the didactic interlude describes Andy Kvaternick as stumbling in the dark, his thoughts adrift, spinning and plunging like a man almost drowning. This interlude’s narrator tells Andy, “Breathe, Breathe” despite his knowledge of his inevitable fate. He encourages him but still reiterates his futility. Andy has no self-control and is not aware of what is happening to him. He is also ignorant, since the mining firm, which operates under Capitalism rules, already defines his future. The narrator commands the reader, who may feel that the future is bleak and hopeless, to act, just like Andy.
Andy is ignorant and therefore unable to listen to the narration. The readers are not as stupid as Andy. Olsen, with this interlude, allows readers to grasp things that Andy’s ignorance in its glory will never allow him to fully understand. Olsen makes a dramatic point.
“Earth suckers in, spewing out coal to make some fat bellies even fatter. Earth steals dreams from you so a select few can lazily lie down on couches, humming “How exquisite”, and enticing dreamers to pay for their services. The narrator is addressing an issue that will be revisited in the second didactic interlude. This is a social comment on the company bosses who lounge around and view their employees as art. This is the very first sign that the wealthy are exploiting the less fortunate. The narrator then offers a solution for ending this social structure. He says that one day strong fists and starved child skeletons will be used to beat the fat belly.
Olsen changes her commands in the second interlude. Olsen says, “And couldn’t you pin this onto your aesthetics hearts?” (Olsen 2). Instead of asking a question to a character, Olsen is now asking us, the reader. Olsen’s cameo is a reference to the “exquisiteness”, or the paid dreamers mentioned in her first didactic interlude.
Olsen is a master of sarcasm. He uses it throughout the narrative, saying, “surely you will find the Greek marbles with women of classical beauty, and the lines of sorrow that are so simple, yet eternal, to be classic” (Olsen p. 20). She asks if the scene of Andy Kvaternick at the tipple is aesthetic. If so, then she believes we are all damned for not being able to understand our oppression. Olsen suggests we show that our dependence upon Capitalism is the reason for such an accident. If we accept the cameo, wear it above our aesthetic heart, then any difference between ourselves and “few people who lazily sit on couches, trilling, “How sublime” to dreamers paid for their services will be unrecognizable.
Olsen insinuates sarcastically that the company must issue a statement soon, otherwise, “they begin to beat through with fists and strike, with pickaxs of revolution” (Olsen 21). Olsen will say this again and again: “This pickax of Revolution” is what the people in this company town desperately want.
Elias Caldwell is just as ignorant in the third interlude, despite his superior perspective. He has not experienced the oppression he speaks of. Mazie has no benefit from the learned man’s wisdom. All he can offer her is some classical and nonsense books. Mazie’s harsh life is a reality that she must face. What will these books and poems do for her?
Elias Caldwell’s inability to illuminate Mazie is disappointing. Mazie may remember, even as an adult, the fact that stars were not “splinters” of the moon, which Caldwell explained to her. Mazie will never benefit from this “splinter”. Mazie is “incomprehensible”, watching his eyes “thirstily,” actively seeking answers but not receiving any. The didactic interlude is launched almost instantly after Caldwell’s assertion that “No. there’s more rebelling against what won’t let the life be” (Olsen). Caldwell wishes to share with Mazie his ideals for her life, but hears only a few incoherent phrases (Olsen 37). Caldwell didn’t make much of his own life. His real failure, however, is that he couldn’t express to Mazie in his last moments what he thought would help her. Olsen attempts to inform the reader, in this didactic interlude of his, that conventional wisdom is flawed, and that education is not a force for saving. What’s the point of education for Mazie? What is the value of an education to Mazie? Olsen leads the reader to the answer in his final didactic interlude.
Olsen mentions Jim Tracy’s “individual revolution” in his final narrative intrusion. Tracy refused to bow down before the fat-bellied Capitalism. He declined. Olsen’s Tracy is a character that represents the answer to working-class oppression. Olsen, in the previous three interludes, has demonstrated through her didactic voice who isn’t the solution. Andy Kvaternick was clearly the wrong answer. Elias Caldwell’s wisdom, which is equally as useless as Andy Kvaternicks, is also the wrong solution. It is also not possible to find aesthetic beauty within the chaos of the working class in America. Olsen informs that Jim Tracy’s revolt was the right thing to do. He was enlightened but he couldn’t do it collectively.
Olsen speaks for the first time as a collective narrator in the last paragraph of the narrative intrusion. He says, “I’m so sorry, Jim Tracy. We were not stronger, and we couldn’t get to you on time. . . You have to wait for the right moment to strike out. . . It was the first human to be born on this planet. (Olsen 64)
Olsen laments Tracy’s failure to realize that the individual revolts were worthless in comparison to the revolution. Olsen makes it very clear in her last interlude that the Holbrooks have been looking for a revolution against Capitalism. Olsen is also clear in her assertion that the only way to make this revolution successful would be to do it collectively.
The interjections of didactic interludes give a more vivid picture of radical awareness in the novel. This would not have happened if the passages had not been added. Silence is a common theme in the novel. In nearly every narrative interruption, someone loses their voice. It could be Andy Kvaternick’s “inarticulateness”, the wordless, sobs of sorrow at the accident scene, or Elias Caldwells “incoherent, rambling” drivel. Olsen’s voice is used to identify the causes of and solutions for the turmoil among the working classes. Without these didactic passages, the plot wouldn’t have progressed in the direction intended. Olsen uses these interruptions to speak for those whose voices were lost long ago: The powerless, the impoverished, and the terrified. Olsen’s novel is an attempt to bring back their stifled, stifled, and stripped voices by the only means possible: revolution.
Lesley Pallathumadom examines “How exquisite”: an examination of Yonnondio from the Thirties’ Didactic interludes
