Themes and Meanings
Recognized widely as one of the major literary works of the Harlem Renaissance of the 1920’s, Cane emerged from Jean Toomer’s experience as the temporary head of a Georgia industrial and agricultural school for African Americans. Toomer called sadness the dominant emotion in the volume, saying it “derived from a sense of fading.” Cane as a whole is an exercise in self-discovery, with its sensitive, self-effacing narrator, actually the author himself, revealing and exploring his own racial identity. Indeed, Toomer himself was so light-skinned that he lived for many years as a white man and throughout his life challenged the norms of racial labeling.
Cane’s form has been as problematic for critics as its substance. Some see it as merely a gathering of fugitives—stories, poems, and a play previously published separately in different magazines—unified only by their common themes, settings, and binding. Others have called it either an experimental novel or a work that denies the possibility of standard categorization. Critical uncertainty and controversy notwithstanding, the form of Cane is not unique, for it is similar to James Joyce’s Dubliners (1914) and Sherwood Anderson’s Winesburg, Ohio (1919), two other thematically related story collections that develop unified and coherent visions of societies. It also echoes Edgar Lee Masters’s poetry collection Spoon River Anthology (1915), which probes the psyches and secrets of small-town residents. Toomer surely was familiar with the Joyce and Masters books, and he knew Anderson personally. Both Cane and Winesburg, Ohio have similar narrators, men who serve as mediators between author and reader; both are collections of prose cameos, and each has a group of characters that become “grotesques,” in Toomer’s case because of the lingering social and psychological effects of slavery.
Toomer’s inclusion of poems within and between his stories is a distinguishing feature. Mainly folk songs or ballads, the poems provide substantive reinforcement to the action and themes of the prose pieces and enhance the pervasive mood of wistful and mournful pastoralism. By recalling a tradition of American black music, particularly spirituals from the antebellum slavery period, they also add historical dimensions to Toomer’s fiction and serve as transitional thematic devices to link the prose pieces. Finally, the poems heighten the impressionistic quality of the book; though Toomer writes about actual social problems and believable people, he is not primarily a realist or a naturalist. For example, the lynching of Tom Burwell in “Blood-Burning Moon” (the title is from a folk song) is presented not only in believable, realistic detail but also in a deliberately ritualistic manner that incorporates myth and symbol.
The conflict in “Blood-Burning Moon” brings to the fore a central theme of the book: Toomer’s belief that there was a southern conspiracy to ignore the reality of miscegenation. In other words, the bigotry in rural Georgia created barriers to normal interpersonal relationships, exaggerated the tensions present, and ultimately led to debilitating sexual repression. Toomer portrays African Americans, however, as having a firmer cultural foundation than whites, in large measure because they work in the fields and thus are closer to nature. In “Fern,” the narrator says, “When one is on the soil of one’s ancestors, most anything can come to one.” Still another motif that is important throughout the book is the economic situation—symbolized in large part by the sugarcane of the title—in which the two races are interdependent at the same time that they are competing. In “Blood-Burning Moon,” for example, the cane (whose smell pervades the town) is both symbol and reality as the means of livelihood for African Americans and whites, just as the decaying cotton factory where Burwell is...
(This entire section contains 757 words.)
Unlock this Study Guide Now
Start your 48-hour free trial and get ahead in class. Boost your grades with access to expert answers and top-tier study guides. Thousands of students are already mastering their assignments—don't miss out. Cancel anytime.
Already a member? Log in here.
killed stands as stark evidence of the fading of an old economic order.
Cane has meaning and significance beyond Toomer’s concerns with racial identity and conflict. Most of the book’s men and women, even those who love and are loved, are strangers to those with whom they live. The narrator of “Fern” says: “Men saw Fern’s eyes and fooled themselves. Her eyes said one thing but people read another. They began to leave her, baffled and ashamed . . . for men are apt to idolize or fear that which they do not understand.” In “Esther,” King Barlo is “slow at understanding.” In “Kabnis,” the old man who lives beneath Halsey’s shop is “a mute John the Baptist of a new religion, or a tongue-tied shadow of an old.” In sum, Cane is about people—black and white—who cannot communicate, even with their own kind.
Themes
Last Updated September 3, 2024.
In a letter to his friend and mentor Waldo Frank, Toomer discussed African-American life, stating, "There is one thing about the Negro in America which most thoughtful persons seem to ignore: the Negro is in solution, in the process of solution." By using the term solution, Toomer did not imply that African Americans of the early twentieth century were resolving their issues. Instead, he meant that they were gradually being assimilated into the larger, predominantly white American culture. Essentially, the African roots of African Americans were fading. In the same letter, Toomer wrote: "The Negro of the folk song has all but passed away; the Negro of the emotional church is fading." He further explained that in the first part of Cane, the dominant feeling is a sadness stemming from a sense of cultural erosion, from "the knowledge of my futility to check solution."
In the first section of the short story collection, Toomer explores this cultural fading, particularly through the lens of sexuality and female characters. In part one, certain women retain an attitude toward sexuality that predates the imposition of white cultural norms on black society. The title character in "Karintha" is a woman who radiates strong sexuality, attracting men even from a young age. Older men "play hobby horse" with her by bouncing her on their knees, and young men eagerly await her coming of age. Since Karintha herself does not conform to white cultural norms, and by this time black society has adopted those norms, she is viewed with suspicion:
She stoned the cows, beat her dog, and fought with other children. Even the preacher, who caught her misbehaving, told himself that she was as innocently lovely as a November cotton flower. Already, rumors circulated about her.
Because she is not constrained by societal rules, Karintha appears aggressive in both her personality and sexuality. However, her assertiveness and sexuality are innocent. It is the community members, who have adopted western standards, that distort the young woman's natural behavior. The preacher's observation of her innocence, referring to her as a November cotton flower, foreshadows a poem that appears shortly after the first sketch. The poem is titled "November Cotton Flower."
In "November Cotton Flower," western civilization is likened to the arrival of winter. Winter, naturally, is the season where life fades. It diminishes the vibrancy of spring and summer, making "cotton-stalks look rusty" and causing "dead birds [to be] found / In wells a hundred feet below the ground." Western culture is depicted as a force of death, suppressing genuine life and vitality. A November cotton flower symbolizes someone naturally bold enough to resist this suppression:
Older folks were taken aback, and it quickly gained importance. Superstition witnessed something unprecedented: Brown eyes that loved without fear, Beauty so unexpected for that season. (7)
The allure of someone like Karintha elicits a "startled" reaction. She is perceived as something sudden and possibly intimidating. Interestingly, Toomer describes the norms of western culture as "superstition." By superstition, he might be referring not only to western morality but also to Christianity.
Christianity is another facet of western culture that African Americans adopted. Toomer clearly views this as another way in which original African culture has been overshadowed by western white culture. He conveys this idea in the poem "Conversion":
African Guardian of Souls Drunk with rum, Feasting on a strange cassava, Yielding to new words and a weak palabra Of a white faced sardonic god— Cane 65 Grins, cries Amen, Shouts hosanna.
The African spiritual leader is intoxicated with rum and is consuming a "strange cassava." Cassava, a plant with an edible rootstock, symbolizes roots foreign to his culture in the poem. He submits to new words or a new language. Toomer uses the Spanish term palabra instead of the English word to emphasize that this language is unfamiliar to the African. Similarly, Christianity, which places great importance on the word, is alien to the African.
Another element of western culture contributing to the erosion of African-American culture is urbanization and industrialization. In a letter to Waldo Frank, Toomer wrote:
The ultimate reality of mechanical civilization is that you either become part of it or get discarded. Negroes lack a culture to resist it (if they had one, their situation would be akin to that of the Indian), thus industrialism more easily transforms them. (24)
The materialism inherent in modern industrial society saps humanity from individuals. Toomer illustrates this in works like "Rhobert." Rhobert "wears a house, like a monstrous helmet, on his head," and this house "is a dead thing that weighs him down." It is clear that his possessions are draining his vitality, as Toomer writes, "life is water that is being drawn off." Rhobert's obsession with materialism leads him to neglect his family, as "he cares not two straws about whether he will see his wife and children again." Preoccupied with maintaining his wealth, Rhobert is oblivious to the harm it causes him— "like most men who wear monstrous helmets, the pressure it exerts convinces him of its practical infinity."
For Toomer, the modern African American is disconnected from their cultural roots due to being compelled to live in a society with different values and norms. Nevertheless, the theme is not entirely one of despair. In the story "Bona and Paul," Toomer offers a glimmer of hope, not just for African Americans, but for all Americans to overcome racial issues. Paul, who is of mixed white and black heritage, experiences a sudden revelation while on a date with a white girl at the Crimson Gardens in Chicago. He shares this insight with a doorman:
I came back to tell you, brother, that white faces are petals of roses. That dark faces are petals of dusk. That I am going out and gather petals. That I am going out and know her whom I brought here with me to these Gardens which are purple like a bed of roses would be at dusk. (153)
In this passage, Paul conveys the hopeful notion that both races share a common identity—being petals—and are equally beautiful in their unique ways. This suggests that both races might coexist harmoniously, much like the flowers in his vision of the Crimson Gardens at dusk.
Themes
Last Updated September 3, 2024.
Race and Racism
This book explores the topic of race on multiple levels. The most evident
aspect is the treatment of blacks within American society, both in the South
and the North. In the South, danger is a constant presence. For example, Becky
is ostracized by both blacks and whites for crossing the color line, having
relations with a black man, and becoming pregnant by him. Whites harbor
suspicion towards blacks, as illustrated by the sheriff in "Esther" who
vigilantly watches a man experiencing religious ecstasy because "y cant never
tell what a nigger like King Barlo might be up t." Generally, this suspicion is
sufficient to keep blacks subservient. Kabnis observes his employer Hanby
intellectualizing his own fear, stating that "the progress of the Negro race is
jeopardized whenever the personal habits and examples set by its guides and
mentors fall below the acknowledged and hard-won standard of its average
member." Kabnis also sees his friend Halsey taking orders from white men,
mistakenly believing he is bettering his life by confining his personal growth
to physical labor.
The racial tension in the South during the 1920s has serious and dangerous consequences. Horror stories shared with Kabnis include accounts of lynchings, beatings, and a pregnant woman whose fetus was impaled on a post with a knife. The rivalry between Bob Stone and Tom Burwell for Louisa's affection is another example: although Burwell wins the fight, he is immediately killed by whites who refuse to allow blacks to engage in a fair fight.
Beyond the animosity between blacks and whites, the book also addresses racism within the black community, particularly towards individuals of mixed heritage. This issue is more prominent in the Northern stories, where the uncertainty between races can be more frightening than the overt hostility in the South. The mutual attraction between Bona and Paul is hindered by his fear of his black heritage being discovered. Ultimately, when Paul decides to embrace his background, he demonstrates this by conversing with a very dark-skinned doorman and shaking his hand. In "Theater," Dorris quickly believes that John would not associate with her when her friend claims he is "dictie," a term Toomer repeatedly uses for light-skinned blacks who consider themselves superior due to their closer resemblance to whites.
Sex Roles
Toomer dedicates the initial section of the book to detailed portrayals of
individual women, illustrating society's diverse views and the intense emotions
men often project onto them. The first example, Karintha, is depicted as a
tragic, enigmatic figure who lacks her own developed personality, being defined
solely by her physical allure. As a child, she is perceived as a sexual object
even by men who refuse to admit it. She is allowed to run wild, mistreat
animals, and fight with other children without reprimand due to her beauty. As
she matures, she becomes an object of desire, yet remains misunderstood.
Subsequently, the book presents a series of women who are misinterpreted by
men: Becky is abandoned, leaving her fate unknown; Carma's husband jumps to
conclusions about her loyalty, leading to her attempted suicide; Fern
captivates the narrator, who neither understands nor questions his fascination;
Esther is mocked by the man she idolized for most of her life; and Louisa
becomes a mere status symbol for two men who fight over her, with little regard
for her true self.
In the second section, there is more interaction between the sexes, as the men in these stories yearn for the women but feel they have no claim to them. This section is characterized by missed connections and failed romances due to misunderstandings about the opposite sex. A notable example is "Box Seat," where Dan Moore believes he must protect Muriel from society, which he thinks will exploit her passive nature, leading him to act overly aggressive. The central symbol in this section is Mr. Barry, the dwarf who, despite boxing himself bloody, serenades a woman with a beautiful song and a rose. Barry's small stature highlights the absurdity of Dan's macho behavior. By the end of this section, Bona and Paul emerge as the book's most balanced couple, as shown by their equal footing on the basketball court. However, despite their mutual respect, their relationship fails, primarily due to Paul's insecurities about his race.
The narrative of Kabnis barely touches on sex roles. Stella and Cora, the prostitutes, exploit the men in their lives just as much as they are exploited. Carrie K. stands out as one of the book's most rational characters: in the midst of disappointment, she acknowledges the dignity of the past that everyone else tries to escape. The book, which begins with a woman seen merely as a sexual object, concludes with a portrayal of a sensitive and enlightened woman.
Alienation and Loneliness
The theme of alienation becomes clear in the book's latter sections, but once
revealed, it can be seen retrospectively in earlier parts. The short prose
piece "Seventh Street," which starts the second section, introduces the concept
of urban isolation, depicting the city street as a product of social
inconsistency—bustling with people yet profoundly lonely. The characters in
this section experience less social pressure to remain segregated compared to
the segregated South. However, despite this relative freedom, they still
struggle to understand each other well enough to form meaningful
relationships.
Alienation is a significant issue for Ralph Kabnis, a light-skinned, educated black man who travels to Georgia to reconnect with his roots, only to discover that his ancestral home rejects the man he has become. The initial part of Kabnis' story focuses on his loneliness as he sits in the quiet night in his assigned room. He suffers from insomnia because his mind lacks a focus: Georgia's societal rules clash with the lifestyle he knows. As he begins to socialize more throughout the story, he finds himself increasingly alienated from his former life. He ridicules the idea of being a teacher and praises the local cuisine in an effort to blend in with the people around him, a tactic that proves successful. Halsey tells Professor Layman:
He ain't like most northern niggers that way. Ain't a stuck-up thing about him. He like us, you and me, maybe all—it's that red mud over yonder—gets stuck in it and can't get out. (Laughs)
The longer Kabnis stays in the South, the more he assimilates with the men around him, but this newfound comfort comes at a cost. In trying to become like them, he grows bitter. He curses the old man who symbolizes black history and drinks excessively to the point of barely being able to stand. Conformity demands that he sacrifice the best parts of his personality to fend off loneliness.