Where the Dead Sit Talking Imagery

Where the Dead Sit Talking Imagery

Rosemary

The object of the narrator’s youthful obsession is a strange teenage girl name Rosemary. Not only is she a little unusual, but so is his obsession. Of course, he is recollecting the events of the narrative from a point in the present that looks back to the past. Much of the imagery in the book is devoted in one way or another to Rosemary, but here is where it gets physically descriptive:

“I’m not sure when, exactly, I became so preoccupied with Rosemary, but I learned more and more about her. I knew she usually wore her hair loose, with bangs, but sometimes she wore it in a ponytail, or back with a hair clip, depending on where she was going. I knew she liked to wear skirts. She liked her black boots. At the same time she could wear a sweater and look more studious. She maintained a mystery about her looks that I found intriguing.”

Offensive Imagery

The narrative is situated within the cultural milieu of the Cherokee tribe. The narrator is Cherokee and bonds with Rosemary over this shared background. The setting of the story even takes place in Cherokee County. So, it should not be too surprising to learn that the narrator addresses offensive “Indian” stereotypes along the way:

When I was little, my mother sat with me on the ground in front of the giant screen. I remember watching a western, Indians riding on horses. I remember cowboys shooting each other in dusty saloons, men playing poker and fighting. The place showed a cartoon before the movie. Once they showed the Bugs Bunny cartoon when he was shooting Indians while singing “Ten Little Indians,” and even used the term “Injun.” I’d seen the cartoon before and always hated it. It’s one of the memories I still carry with me from those nights at the drive-in. Thinking back on it still bothers me. I wish I would’ve had a gun and shot the whole screen down.”

Strange Fantasies

The narrator has a rich imaginative ripe for fantasies and he is not ashamed to share them. This lack of shame is significant because his fantasies range across quite a broad stretch of content. For instance, after having his imagination stoked by a friend who tells him that he has heard Rosemary goes into he woods with boys and comes back with nude drawings of them, he secretly pursues such a coupling only to discover things are not quite so salacious. This does nothing to tighten the leash of his imagination, however, as he indulges in a particularly odd bit of fantasizing:

“Then they fell quiet again as she stared at him and began drawing. He had not taken off his clothes, but I imagined he had. And I imagined Rosemary had, too, so that they were both naked and alone, unaware of any other presence. In that space of time, while she drew, I entered both Rosemary and the boy and allowed them to move the way I wanted them to. I moved his body to meet hers. His body was spindly and pale. Rosemary’s skin was dark against his. He crouched down to kiss her navel and she laughed. And I, too, laughed as they collapsed to the ground in the gray light suffusing through the cold afternoon. The bitter cold never bothered them, not in their sudden passion.”

Dark Fantasies

Not all of the narrator’s fantasies are quite so ethereal. In some, some verge into a realm much more disturbing. So disturbing, in fact, that it might make some readers call into question the concept of his standing as the protagonist. This is not the fantasizing typically associated with the figure in a book the reader is encouraged to identify with as they trek through the narrative:

“Mrs. Speck stood in front of the class wearing a skirt and black knee-high socks. Mrs. Speck was an older, homely woman who was rumored to hide vodka in her desk and drink whenever she smoked in the teachers’ lounge on her free period. She talked about Oklahoma’s history, the Dust Bowl, winds sweeping across the plains bringing giant billows of dirt like smoke, a plague of jackrabbits invading fields and pastures. I imagined myself suddenly standing on my desk and shouting curse words. I imagined Mrs. Speck removing her blouse and unfastening her bra, freeing her sagging breasts. Mrs. Speck, a large, lonely woman in need of attention from boys. They would rush to her. They would play with her breasts while she drank vodka from a flask. The girls would run out of the classroom in horror.”

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