Document Information
- Chapter: Chapter 28
- Scene: Jefferson’s monologue during last visit with Grant
- Draft: Manuscript
- File location: Box 10, folder 53
Discussion Questions
- In this draft, Gaines describes Jefferson holding onto his cell door: “He went to the cell door and grasped it, but did not pull against it.” In subsequent drafts, the addition “but did not pull against it” is removed, and Jefferson starts to “jerk on the door” before “chang[ing] his mind and turn[ing] back to look at [Grant].” What is the difference between Jefferson choosing to “not pull against” the door and starting to “jerk on the door”? What might Gaines be trying to reveal about Jefferson’s emotions or interiority with this edit? What does this edit reveal about Jefferson’s relationship to his jail cell and perhaps with the larger systems that hold him there?
“I wish I knew what to do, Jefferson.”
“I’m the one got to do everything. Look like I’m the one. Me. Me.” He got up from the bunk and went to the window and looked up at the sycamore tree leaves of the sycamore tree. Above the leaves the sky was blue, lovely and clear. “Me, Mr. Wiggins,” he said turning from the window and looking at me. “Me to take the cross. Your cross, nan-nan’s cross, my cross. Me, Mr. Wiggins. This old stumbling nigger. Y’all ask a lot, Mr. Wiggins.” He went to the cell door and grasped it, but did not pull against it. He stared out at the wall across from the cell, then turned back to me. “Who ever cared my cross Mr Wiggins. Who ever cared my load? I went to the field when I was five– six– Mr. Wiggins. I pulled that cotton sack– not nobody else. I cared them buckets of potatoes to that headlane– not nobody else. I chopped that wood, I swung that axe– I pulled that saw not nobody else. I loaded that cane– not nobody for me.” He stood over me now, looking down at me was standing over me now. “Ywe, I’m youman, Mr Wiggins. But nobody didn’t notice it ‘fore now. Cussed for nothing. Beat for nothing. Work for nothing. Grinned to get by. And everybody thought that’s how it was suppose to be. You, too, Mr. Wiggins. You never thought I was anything else– just like all the rest. And I didn’t either, Mr. Wiggins. I never thought I was nothing. Just plain nothing.” He went to the window and turned his back to it to look at me. “And now, Mr. Wiggins, y’all want me to be better than everybody else. How, Mr. Wiggins? How?”
“I don’t know.”
“What I have left, Mr. Wiggins, two weeks?”
“I think it’s something like that.”
Document Information
- Chapter: Chapter 28
- Scene: Jefferson’s monologue during last visit with Grant
- Draft: Early typescript
- File location: Box 10, folder 53
Discussion Questions
- In this and subsequent drafts, the sound of “You Are My Sunshine” playing on the radio is mentioned in this scene. How might the addition of this song be meaningful to this scene? What images, emotions, or ideas does the song “You Are My Sunshine” evoke, and how might those relate to Jefferson’s concerns in this monologue?
“I wish I knew what to do, Jefferson.”
“I’m the one got to do everything. I’m the one. Me. Me.” He got up from the bunk and went to the window and looked out at the sycamore tree. Above the leaves, the sky was blue, lovely and clear. “You Are My Sunshine” was playibng on the radio. Jefferson turned back from the window and looked at me. “Me, Mr. Grant. Me. Me to take the cross. Your cross, nan-nan’s cross, my own cross. Me, Mr. Grant. This old stumbling nigger. Y’all ask a lot, Mr. Grant.” He went to the cell dorr and grasped it with both hands. He started to jerk on the door, but changed his mind and turned back to look at me. “Who ever cared my cross, Mr. Grant? Who ever cared my load? I went to the field when I was five--six, Mr. Grant. I pulled that cotton sack--not nobody else. I cared them buckets of potatoes to that headlane--not nobody else. I chopped that wood, I swung that axe, I pulled that saw--not nobody else. I loaded that cane--not nobody for me.” He was standing over me now. “Ywe, I’m youman, Mr. Grant. But nobody didn’t notice it ‘fore now. Cussed for nothing. Beat for nothing. Work for nothing. Grinned to get by. Everybody thought that’s how it was suppose to be. You too, Mr. Grant. You never thought I was nothing else--just like all the rest of them. I didn’t either, Mr. Grant. I never thought I was nothing. Just plain nothing.” He went to the window and turned his back to the wall to look at me. “Now, all y’all want me to be better than everybody else. How, Mr. Grant? You tell me.”
“I don’t know.”
Document Information
- Chapter: Chapter 28
- Scene: Jefferson’s monologue during last visit with Grant
- Draft: Late typescript
- File location: Box 10, folder 55
Discussion Questions
- In the published version of this scene, Gaines added the following line near the end of Jefferson’s monologue: “Thought I was doing what the Lord had put me on this earth to do.” How does the addition of this sentence change or nuance the meaning of Jefferson’s monologue? Consider, too, how often other characters express concern for Jefferson’s soul and religious welfare; how do Jefferson’s own views about God complicate or nuance the novel’s conversation about religion and spirituality, and why might the inclusion of his perspective be important?
“I wish I knew what to do, Jefferson.”
“I’m the one got to do everything. I’m the one. Me. Me.” He got up from the bunk and went to the window and looked out at the sycamore tree. Through the leaves, I could see the sky blue, lovely and clear. “You Are my Sunshine” was playing on the radio. Jefferson turned back from the window and looked at me. “Me, Mr. Grant Wiggins. Me. Me to take the cross. Your cross, nan-nan’s cross, my own cross. Me, Mr. Grant Wiggins. This old stumbling nigger. Y’all axe a lot, Mr. Grant Wiggins.” He went to the cell door and grasped it with both hands. He started to jerk on the door, but changed his mind and turned back to look at me. “Who ever care’d my cross, Mr. Grant Wiggins? Who ever care’d my load? I went to the field when I was five--six, Mr. Grant Wiggins. I pulled that cotton sack--not nobody else. I care’d them buckets of potatoes to that headlane--not nobody else. I chopped that wood, I swung that axe, I pulled that saw--not nobody else. I loaded that cane--not nobody for me.” He was standing over me now. “Yes, I’m youman, Mr. Grant Wiggins. But nobody didn’t pay me no ‘tention ‘fore now. Cussed for nothing. Beat for nothing. Work for nothing. Grinned to get by on. Everybody thought that’s how it was s’pose to be. You too, Mr. Grant Wiggins. You never thought I was nothing else--just like all the rest of them. I didn’t either, Mr. Grant Wiggins. I never thought I was nothing. Just plain nothing.” He went to the window and turned his back to the wall to look at me. “Now, all y’all want me to be better than everybody else. How, Mr. Grant Wiggins? You tell me.”
“I don’t know.”
“What I got left, Mr. Grant Wiggins, two weeks?”
“I think it’s something like that. If nothing happens.”