Is it possible to read Beloved with a Formalist lens? (Spoiler alert…kinda)

Kristen O’Connor

ENGL 345

Blog Post #3

*I tried to write this without any spoilers, but this is a heads-up just in case.

I’m fascinated by Formalism in that I can never view a single text as just text. While it may not always be useful, I find myself needing to look at outside influences, specifically those that are historical. As I’ve been reading Beloved, I came to wonder how anyone could read a text that is so entwined with such tragic, intentional, historically-relevant ideas as just a narrative meant to show only the words on the page.  So, I decided to look at a few main elements of the text and attempt to analyze it using only Formalism.

Morrison writes in an informal manner; the characters often speak ungrammatically and with language that is no more advanced than an intermediate level. Further progressing this trend, Morrison uses little, if any, punctuation in the language of characters—yet she uses it frequently with the third person narrator. Morrison appears to use language as a means of expressing education and sophistication. As my first instinct would be to look at racial differences shown through language, I had to reject that notion once Amy Denver, a white woman (though an indentured servant) had poor language use, as well. It seems that Morrison uses low-level, almost sporadic and without pause, and choppy sentences to focus less on sociology, biography, etc., and instead to create an unstable, unfamiliar narrative.

Similarly, there is a constant bouncing between narrators, often times without expectation. The exchanges between characters are continuous, but the point of view fluctuates, so much so that I often found myself re-reading in an attempt to discover the narrator. The only seemingly present notion for abrupt change is a slight gap in between paragraphs. But, these appear to be inconsistent and as irregular as the grammar. As readers, we have to focus on the literary systems Morrison demands, and at times, the lack thereof. Morrison is creating a disrupted narrative, one without much comfort and bound together loosely only by tangled threads—a parallel to the plot in general.

As the sole source of consistency, at least in my opinion, lie literary devices like repetition and metaphor in numerous places throughout the text. Both metaphor and repetition stem from each character’s recollection of past events. When examining with a Formalist lens, the background of the memories aren’t important; importance lies in their use. The story, although in the present, is told with mostly reflections of the past. The one that comes to mind is Sethe’s memory of the violent theft of her milk at Sweet Home. This traumatic event took place before her escape, and because she was pregnant with Denver, this memory is often associated with her. Morrison uses the past to create the present, as Sethe, and the plot seem to be at a standstill—trying to move forward but remaining with the “rememories.”  

 There are numerous smaller metaphors present, but I want to focus on the most prevalent: Beloved, the character herself, seems to me (although I am only half way through the novel) to be a metaphor for the past, for the dead, and for the haunting memories themselves. She clearly and directly proves that the past plays a part in the narrative. Her name is undoubtedly reminiscent of the gravestone of Sethe’s daughter, and she directly asks Sethe questions about the past. This use of metaphor correlates with Morrison’s repetition, as well as the storyline as a whole.