In Defense of Romanticism

Upon my first reading of Percival Everett’s I Am Not Sidney Poitier, I marked it down as another novel deconstructing the nature of cynicism and the absurdity of life. And perhaps, it can still be observed as a novel of that nature; by just reading of Not Sidney’s disposition to view the other characters around him in a sort of blasé, detached and uncaring manner, and how each event is passed over without much growth or weight to them, the theme of how life can be absurd is still certainly present—but I am not sure that the hard cynicism that I first observed is. Unlike other classical novels with strict structure and plot, I Am Not Sidney Poitier communicates its themes and lessons not through the weight of the events in the story, but by what Not Sidney absorbs as he moves through time, and the intertextuality that can be read through Everett’s implementation of films starring the real Sidney Poitier—such as The Defiant Ones and Lilies of the Field.

My idea for this blog post stemmed from a particular moment in I Am Not Sidney Poitier and the allusion to the film The Defiant Ones. On page 79 of I Am Not Sidney Poitier, this passage occurs:

Patrice pushed the jar towards me, but I waved it off. I watched them drink themselves unconscious, and I realized it didn’t matter where they were, they would never be going anywhere.

The train’s whistle blew. It was coming and I was the only one awake. I did not wake them. The locomotive passed, and I walked to the tracks. Just as Sis had said, the train was moving very slowly up the grade. I found an empty boxcar and easily climbed into it. Alone. I left them sleeping there where they belonged, with one another.

In comparison to the scene to which this passage is alluding to, that scene being from the 1958 film The Defiant Ones, the difference is polar opposite to what occurs here: instead of getting on the train and leaving his accomplice behind, Cullen, Not Sidney’s equivalent in the film, jumps off the train to stay with Joker, the equivalent to Patrice in the novel. There are other aspects that differ in the book and film alongside those, however I will not mention them here simply because they do not apply to the core of this post. Here I am questioning the use of romanticism versus cynicism in storytelling, and what little differs between the book and the film is, in this context, irrelevant.

As defined by The Bedford Glossary of Critical and Literary Terms, romanticism is “a broad and general term referring to a set of beliefs, attitudes, and values associated with… an emphasis on emotion, innovation, nature, the individual, and subjective experience.” Furthermore, romanticism can be defined as containing the belief that “emotions are more reliable than reason” and pertaining to a confidence in “the essential goodness of human beings.” In defining romanticism, I am reminded of simple optimism, and I suppose, in this blog post, romanticism can be likened to optimism; it is The Defiant Ones’ version of the events, the hope that there will be a happily ever after, and that the characters will grow to be better versions of themselves by the end of the story.

In contrast, cynicism can be defined as “a dark attitude toward the world, especially toward human beings… [the belief that] human beings are basically motivated by greed and self-interest; they are distrustful of others, usually very negative, and suspicious of sentimentality.” For the purpose of this blog post, I am posing cynicism as the opposite of literary romanticism; just as romanticism means the belief in the goodness of human beings, cynicism means the belief in the evilness of human beings. And just as romanticism can be likened to optimism, cynicism can be likened to pessimism. This is I Am Not Sidney Poitier’s version of the events, the apparent truth that Cullen should have remained on the train just as how Not Sidney got on the train by himself in the book, and the idea that what occurs in books should reflect what would most likely happen in real life.

To add a disclaimer, I consider myself a romantic. However, deconstructions of films such as The Defiant Ones in context of its time period, subject, and problematic aspects should not be dissuaded simply because “Oh, it’s just a movie, can’t there be a happy ending?” A film such as The Defiant Ones, which contains a subject concerning race and racism, should be deconstructed, because it is incredibly likely that the film glosses over how dire the problem of racism truly was. In short, it is absolutely not my intention to glorify the romanticism in The Defiant Ones. This because the romanticism in that film likely contributed to a skewed view of racism and a softening of a problem that should have been, and should still be, viewed and debated with the utmost care.

Instead, I would like to conclude this blog post with a return to the title: “In Defense of Romanticism.” To reiterate, I Am Not Sidney Poitier is a novel that does not follow the standard story structure and plot that many readers are accustomed to. Therefore, there is no need for romanticism; the novel can communicate its theme successfully without it. However, The Defiant Ones is a film that does follow the standard story structure (for example, the inciting incident is the prison bus’ crash at the beginning of the film), and therefore romanticism suits it well, because in this way it is able to communicate its own theme: an idea of friendship grown through hardship might not be able to beat the odds, but it might allow one to come to terms with their situation in life. In conclusion, I will defend romanticism when it is implemented in a standard story structure, however, I understand for novels such as I Am Not Sidney Poitier, romanticism is not necessary.

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