scowls at Mrs. Turpin’s self-righteous philosophy, obviously a mirror image of her mother’s. When she has had enough of their talk, it is Mrs. Turpin, not her own mother, whom the girl attacks without warning, hitting her with a book and choking her.

In “Judgement Day,” the conflict becomes father-daughter, as the elderly Tanner is taken against his will when his daughter moves to New York. When Tanner treats a Northern black man with the easy, condescending familiarity he knew in Georgia, the stranger turns on him and beats him.

Though they all differ in details of plot and characterization, each story ends with a characteristic shock, combining violence with the possibility of revelation for the point-of-view character.

Though labeled a Southern Catholic female writer, Flannery O’Connor did not consider herself a female writer or a regional writer; the only issues that her fiction dealt with were spiritual issues transcending both gender and geography. Nevertheless, her female characters often reveal the effects of social attitudes toward women that help shape them. Two character types in particular, the domineering mother and the artistic or scholarly daughter, appear frequently.

The unnamed “ugly girl” who becomes the object of Mrs. Turpin’s pity in “Revelation” illustrates a destructive societal norm for young women, both in personal appearance and in intelligence. Mrs. Turpin assumes that the girl deserves her pity because she is overweight, unattractive, and blighted by acne. Worse—or perhaps the two are causally related—she is an intellectual, buried in a book with the ironic title Human Development. Her mother, with Mrs. Turpin’s tacit assent, lectures in vain that the girl could compensate for external “ugliness” by a cheerful disposition.

A similar character in “The Enduring Chill,” Mary George Fox, is scorned by the one character who should most sympathize with her, her brother Asbury. Both aspire to artistic, or at least intellectual, escape from the limits imposed by their society, but Asbury is unable to see his sister as anything but “husband-bait.” “Asbury said she posed as an intellectual,” readers are told, “but that her I.Q. couldn’t be over seventy-five, that all she was really interested in was getting a man but that no sensible man would finish a first look at her.” Mary George rises as high as a woman with intellectual ambition can in her world by becoming the principal of the county elementary school.

Intelligence and artistic development are feared by the mothers in O’Connor’s fiction—such things are bad enough in sons, but they are nearly fatal in daughters. O’Connor must have encountered this attitude among her neighbors and family, though there is no evidence that her mother shared it. Her conviction as a college senior that she would be a writer and her leaving the South for the Iowa Writer’s Workshop (and much worse, a year writing in New York City and Connecticut)—all of this cut against the domestic expectations that Millidgeville, Georgia, must have had for its young ladies. Yet O’Connor never scorned those expectations, and her neighbors, despite some discomfort at the nature of her characters, expressed pride in having a writer of note in their midst.

Besides the creation of unusual symbols, such as the grotesque hat with one purple flap up and the other down, suggesting the social direction of the wearers, O’Connor is a master of dramatic irony. A paragraph of Julian’s internal monologue characterizes not only Mrs. Chestny but also the jaded young man himself, who despises his mother for her unreal expectations and blames her for a social situation in which she must sacrifice herself for his welfare:She lived according to the laws of her own fantasy world, outside of which he had never seen her set foot. The law of it was to sacrifice herself for him after she had first created the necessity to do so by making a mess of things. If he had permitted her sacrifices, it was only because her lack of foresight had made them necessary. All of her life had been a struggle to act like a Chestny without the Chestny goods, and to give him everything she thought a Chestny ought to have; but because, said she, it was fun to struggle, why complain? And when you had won, as she had won, what fun to look back on the hard times! He could not forgive her that she had enjoyed the struggle and that she thought she had won.

Julian congratulates himself that he has cut himself emotionally free of his mother, as though filial love were some kind of character flaw. He also prides himself on his ability to face facts. His monumental ignorance and immaturity are swiftly brought to a climax in a few sentences, rapidly changing his mode of discourse to one characteristic of childhood. When his mother has a stroke, Julian finds himself “looking into a face he has never seen before.”“Mother!” he cried. “Darling, sweetheart, wait!” Crumpling, she fell to the pavement. He dashed forward and fell at her side, crying, “Mamma, Mamma!” He turned her over. Her face was fiercely distorted. One eye, large and staring, moved slightly to the left as if it had become unmoored. The other remained fixed on him, raked his face again, found nothing and closed.

Only moments before, he had been flippantly lecturing his mother from his pose of wisdom: “From now on you’ve got to live in a new world and face a few realities for a change. Buck up . . . it won’t kill you.”

Southern Race Relations

The generational divide between Julian and his mother is evident in their conflicting views on race relations, a significant topic in the early 1960s.

At the start of the 20th century, "Jim Crow" laws were enacted throughout the South, enforcing segregation in public spaces. For the first half of the century, African Americans and whites used separate facilities, including parks, restaurants, clubs, restrooms, and transportation.

In 1954, the Supreme Court's landmark decision in Brown vs. Board of Education declared school segregation inherently unequal. Following this ruling, African Americans gained the right to share public transportation with whites in several Southern cities. By 1960, "sit-ins" at segregated lunch counters had become a common form of protest against segregation, fueling the burgeoning Civil Rights Movement that would bring about significant social and legislative changes over the next decade.

In "Everything That Rises Must Converge," Julian's mother refuses to ride the bus alone, suggesting that sharing the bus with African Americans would either endanger her safety or undermine her dignity.

Catholic Theology

A devout Roman Catholic, O’Connor stood apart from other writers of her generation by writing from a deeply religious perspective. "I see from the standpoint of Christian orthodoxy," she asserts. "This means that for me the meaning of life is centered on Redemption by Christ and what I see in the world I see in its relationship to that."

Although religious themes are not overtly present in "Everything That Rises Must Converge," O’Connor’s view of humanity's sinful nature permeates the story. "The novelist with Christian concerns will find in modern life distortions which are repugnant to him, and his problem will be to make these appear as distortions to an audience which is used to seeing them as natural," O’Connor contends.

"Everything That Rises Must Converge" alludes to the ideas of Jesuit theologian and scientist Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (1881–1955). In his book The Phenomenon of Man (1955), which seeks to reconcile the science of evolution with a Christian worldview, Teilhard theorizes that after the emergence of homo sapiens, evolution continues on a spiritual level toward a state of pure consciousness known as Being. While species diversified biologically until humans dominated the earth, evolution began to take the form of rising consciousness, leading back toward unification or convergence. Ultimately, at the end of time, all Beings will be unified as one in God.

Some critics argue that O’Connor’s reference to Teilhard must be ironic, given the apparent lack of convergence in the story. However, others suggest that Julian’s revelation at the story’s conclusion can be seen as an initial step toward the higher consciousness that represents God. Julian is negatively impacted by his pride, arrogance, and anger, yet when his mother dies, he becomes aware of the harm he has caused.

The narratives within the collection depict scenarios where an imperfect character reaches a "vision of himself as he really is, and makes possible a true rising toward Being," claims Dorothy Tuck McFarland in Flannery O’Connor:

That this ascent is inevitably painful does not undermine its legitimacy; instead, it highlights... the conflict between the evolutionary drive toward Being and the human distortion that opposes it—the distortion which O’Connor would have termed original sin.

Ironic Narration

‘‘Everything That Rises Must Converge’’ is told from a third-person perspective, where the story's events are observed by an external narrator. This narrator has insight into Julian’s innermost thoughts, personal drives, and daydreams.

Although Julian sees himself as completely objective, the story is framed by his emotionally charged relationship with his mother. However, just because the narrator can access Julian’s deepest thoughts doesn't mean readers are meant to sympathize with him. As the narrative progresses, the narrator’s viewpoint becomes increasingly distinct from Julian’s, ultimately allowing readers to critique Julian as harshly as he critiques his mother.

O’Connor employs a narrative technique called irony to achieve this effect. Irony highlights the difference or imbalance between the literal meaning of words and the outcomes they produce. This technique enables O’Connor to reveal Julian’s lack of self-awareness and his distance from grace.

Another form of irony O’Connor uses is the contrast between intentions and outcomes. Throughout the story, Julian wishes harm upon his mother and attempts to punish her by imposing his liberal views. When the stress of the bus trip causes her to have a stroke, his wish is fulfilled. Ironically, this event leads Julian to confront his own vulnerabilities rather than exposing his mother’s. He intended to teach her a lesson, but instead, he learns one himself. O’Connor’s views on redemption hinge on this kind of ironic twist.

Satire

O’Connor is renowned for her sharp satire, employing ridicule, humor, and wit to critique human nature and society. In ‘‘Everything That Rises Must Converge,’’ each character is an exaggerated representation of human flaws. Often referred to as ‘‘grotesques,’’ these characters display distorted aspects of human nature, which are also highlighted through their physical characteristics.

Julian’s mother “holds herself very erect under the preposterous hat, wearing it like a banner of her imaginary dignity.” Meanwhile, a self-pitying Julian “waits like Saint Sebastian for the arrows to start piercing him.” According to O’Connor’s worldview, human nature is afflicted by weakness and sin. Writing from an orthodox Catholic perspective about a secular and irreverent world, she felt it was her duty to depict sin in unmistakable terms.

As Walter Sullivan noted in the Hollins Critic,

Flannery O’Connor believed that the peculiar characters inhabiting her stories are fundamentally no different from ordinary people. She acknowledged their exaggerated portrayal but argued that this was necessary due to our moral corruption: for the morally blind, the message of redemption must be emphasized dramatically.

Some critics view O’Connor’s satire as excessively blunt, while others contend that her severe depictions should be interpreted alongside her more nuanced use of irony and the glimpses of redemption she offers her flawed characters at the violent conclusions of her stories.

Symbolism

O’Connor’s initial creative pursuit was cartooning, and her stories are rich with striking visual symbols. In ‘‘Everything That Rises Must Converge,’’ the main symbol is the green and purple hat, which is described as ‘‘hideous’’ and ‘‘atrocious.’’

Despite her reservations about its high cost, she decides to keep the hat because, she says, ‘‘at least I won’t meet myself coming and going.’’ This indicates that Julian’s mother believes she won't encounter anyone else wearing the same hat. However, the phrase ‘‘meet myself’’ suggests how closely the hat represents the wearer’s identity, adding irony when she encounters an African-American woman on the bus wearing the identical hat.

In this way, she ‘‘meets herself’’ in the form of an African-American woman. Their connection is further highlighted by the fact that ‘‘she and the woman had, in a sense, swapped sons.’’ Julian sits next to the black woman, while her young son sits next to Julian’s mother, creating an additional layer of symbolic reflection.

The fact that the African-American woman wears the same hat—a hat that Julian’s mother had to save up to buy—demonstrates how far Julian’s mother has declined both economically and socially. It also signifies the progress African Americans have made in American society. The African-American woman’s social ascent brings a form of ‘‘convergence’’ between the two women, though not the transcendent kind suggested by the title.

O'Connor masterfully transitions between subtle dialogue and an all-knowing perspective that delves deeper into one character's thoughts. This technique reveals the disparity between what characters say to each other and what they truly think. The combination of spoken exchanges and unspoken thoughts creates a realistic setting for examining conflicting, often opposing, moral beliefs. The omniscient narrator shifts from commenting on a character's traits and motivations to exposing their internal thought process, allowing readers to uncover the hidden truths in their interactions with others. Consider the opening of the title story "Everything That Rises Must Converge." The narrative introduces the first character as "Julian's mother," who is anxious about wearing a new hat. By the third paragraph, we see Julian's thoughts about the hat, which starkly contrast with what he tells her:

Julian raised his eyes to heaven. 'Yes, you should have bought it,' he said. 'Put it on and let's go.' It was a hideous hat. A purple velvet flap came down on one side of it and stood up on the other; the rest of it was green and looked like a cushion with the stuffing out. He decided it was less comical than jaunty and pathetic. Everything that gave her pleasure was small and depressed him.

The rest of the story reveals the growing rift between mother and son as they face a situation on a desegregated bus that ultimately leads to the mother's death.

O'Connor draws heavily from Biblical passages and imagery, creating a structure reminiscent of the New Testament. "The Lame Shall Enter First" resembles a modern parable inspired by the synoptic Gospels gone awry. "Parker's Back" explores various interpretations of the Holy Trinity, leading to conflict between individuals, even spouses. "Revelation" and "Judgement Day" conclude the stories in a manner similar to the Book of Revelation, with the wicked and the good being recognized in a way unlike anything seen before.

O'Connor's strong moral principles infuse her stories with both authorial and narrative direction, prompting readers to react intensely to the recurring motifs of death.

1. What is the meaning of the title? Does it pertain solely to the main story or to multiple stories?

2. Should these stories be viewed as a cohesive collection or are they better understood when read individually?

3. Are the themes O'Connor explores still pertinent today, or do they reflect a specific historical era?

4. Which character most clearly embodies the grotesque?

5. In what ways do the structure and themes of the stories align with those of the Bible?

6. Is it necessary to be familiar with Biblical passages to fully grasp these stories? Is knowledge of Catholic beliefs required?

7. According to O'Connor's narrative voices, how does one attain salvation?

8. Do the recurring moral themes throughout the stories provide clear narrative and authorial guidance?

Published posthumously, these stories mark the final works O'Connor completed while enduring a prolonged illness that ultimately claimed her life. Collectively, this compilation reaffirms O'Connor's persistent investigation into personal self-deceptions that are only unveiled at unexpected moments of truth, often in the face of death. As the characters wrestle with moral quandaries, they expose their own flaws and weaknesses, necessitating divine grace for forgiveness. Overlooking one's faults or flaunting moral superiority over others becomes just as flawed as lacking Christian faith.

The characters in these tales rarely achieve an accurate perception of reality. For instance, in "Judgment Day," Tanner reflects on his interactions with African Americans and recalls his first encounter with the black man Coleman. Instead of brandishing a weapon, Coleman unexpectedly crafts a pair of spectacles. Tanner observes:

Grinned, or grimaced, Tanner could not tell which, but he had an instant's sensation of seeing before him a negative image of himself, as if clownishness and captivity had been their common lot. The vision failed him before he could decipher it.

Due to his lack of insight, Tanner encounters other individuals he believes he understands, without truly recognizing their shared humanity. Ignoring his daughter's advice to "live and let live," and determined to return to the South for a proper burial rather than risk being interred in the North, Tanner's past and present blur as he attempts to flee home. Ironically, the African American man Tanner meets in the North, who rejects Tanner's label of preacher, will violently escort him to his God, becoming a victim in the process. Those deserving salvation frequently appear in both the narrative voices of the stories and the characters' obsessions with their own moral worthiness.

Though O'Connor is most renowned for her religious and moral themes as a Southern Catholic writer, she also tackles other contemporary issues in these stories. Written during the peak of the Civil Rights movement and desegregation, the work portrays evolving racial relations. Like many authors, O'Connor examines the deeply held beliefs of genteel whites who once owned slaves or employed black help, and who cling to the notion of a persistent hierarchy of supremacy. For instance, the title story delves into the strained interactions between whites and blacks on a desegregated bus. A woman's hat, a symbol of refinement for the sophisticated woman of the era, sparks an acknowledgment of the shifting social order when a white woman from a once-wealthy family must momentarily recognize that a black woman of rising social status might not only afford the same hat but also choose the same style. The fact that this realization occurs in front of their sons, who more readily perceive and accept the changes, underscores the evolving social dynamics.

In "Revelation," Mrs. Terpin embodies the most extreme form of social hierarchy. She projects this personal philosophy onto other patients in a crowded doctor's office waiting room:

At the bottom were most colored people—not the kind she imagined she would be if she were one, but most of them. Next to them, though not above, were the white trash. Above them were the homeowners, and higher still were the home-and-land owners, a category to which she and Claud belonged. Above her and Claud were those with substantial wealth, much larger houses, and far more land.

This perspective starkly reveals Mrs. Terpin's lack of Christian humility. When she reflects on those higher in her hierarchy, she thinks, "some wealthy people were common and should be below her and Claud. Some had lost their wealth and were now renting, and there were also colored people who owned their homes and land." Mrs. Terpin is deeply unsettled when a young woman challenges her beliefs. The full impact of O'Connor's humor is felt at the story's conclusion, as Mrs. Terpin confronts her God in the pigpen after being called a "warthog" from hell.

1960s: The Civil Rights movement emerges as a potent and effective force. Following the enactment of various laws mandating the desegregation of schools, interstate transportation, and other public facilities, the Civil Rights Act of 1964 ensures the desegregation of all public spaces.

Today: Affirmative action, which promoted increased integration in schools and workplaces during the 1970s and 1980s, faces numerous legal challenges as a form of reverse discrimination.

1960s: In 1966, the Supreme Court invalidates a Virginia law banning interracial marriage; Virginia was one of sixteen states that still prohibited such unions. In 1967, Secretary of State Dean Rusk’s daughter, who is white, garners media attention by marrying a black man. Rusk offers to resign, but President Lyndon Johnson declines his resignation.

Today: Interracial marriage no longer attracts significant media coverage. Many prominent interracial couples are visible in public life. The number of interracial marriages has tripled since 1967, resulting in over a million bi-racial families.

1960s: The eldest members of the post-war "baby boomers" reach their teenage and young adult years. Many in this generation seek to assert their individuality and question prevailing social norms and beliefs. A generational divide becomes evident, with parents and children often holding contrasting views on significant issues.

Today: "Baby boomers" have reached middle age, raising their children in a less contentious and more accepting society.

1960s: Established by affluent philanthropists in 1906, the Young Women’s Christian Association (YWCA) has declined from its previous role as a key charitable organization and community hub. It is now mainly used as a budget-friendly gymnasium and hotel. In 1960, its cafeteria becomes the first public dining facility in Atlanta to desegregate, marking its transition into a secular institution.

Today: There are still 326 YWCAs, with at least one in every U.S. state. The organization’s goals include promoting social justice and providing services for women, in addition to encouraging physical fitness. The YWCA mission statement no longer references religion.

O'Connor takes the title Everything That Rises Must Converge from the writings of Teilhard de Chardin, a French Jesuit theologian whom she greatly admired. Additionally, O'Connor openly commended the work of another Southern author, William Faulkner, especially his novel As I Lay Dying. Like Faulkner's Snopes family, many characters in O'Connor's stories experience a moment of self-realization either at their own death or that of a family member. While Faulkner's narratives are confined to a single county, O'Connor's stories are set in the middle Georgia region. Beyond incorporating Faulkner's concept of the grotesque, O'Connor also draws inspiration from Nathaniel West's work, particularly Miss Lonelyhearts. Though her writing is tinged with humor, O'Connor's irony tends to be more emotional and tragic, largely influenced by her profound religious faith and convictions.

Frequently included in anthologies alongside Everything That Rises Must Converge, the novellas Wise Blood (1949) and The Violent Bear It Away (1955) also feature young protagonists who must navigate the complexities of the world and establish their own moral beliefs as they interact with a diverse range of individuals possessing varied ethical viewpoints.

In Wise Blood, Hazel Motes grapples with his religious vision amid encounters with an array of characters who each have their own peculiar and unique interpretations of morality. Similarly, the younger protagonist, Francis Marion Tarwater, in The Violent Bear It Away, faces the challenge of coping with the death of a significant moral guide in his life.

Sources

Denham, Robert D., "The World of Guilt and Sorrow: Flannery O’Connor’s ‘Everything That Rises Must Converge,’" in Flannery O’Connor Bulletin, Vol. 4, Autumn 1975, pp. 42–51.

Hicks, Granville, "A Cold, Hard Look at Humankind," in Saturday Review, May 29, 1965, pp. 23–24.

Martin, Carter W., The True Country: Themes in the Fiction of Flannery O’Connor, Nashville, TN: Vanderbilt University Press, 1968.

McFarland, Dorothy Tuck, Flannery O’Connor, New York: Frederick Ungar Publishing, 1976.

O’Connor, Flannery, Mysteries and Manners: Occasional Prose, edited by Sally and Robert Fitzgerald, New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1969.

Schott, Webster, "Flannery O’Connor: Faith’s Stepchild," in Nation, Vol. 201, No. 7, September 13, 1965, pp. 142–44.

Sullivan, Walter, "Flannery O’Connor, Sin, and Grace," in Hollins Critic, Vol. 2, No. 4, September 1965, pp. 1–8, 10.

Further Reading

Bloom, Harold, ed., Flannery O’Connor: A Comprehensive Research and Study Guide, New York: Chelsea House, 1999.
This extensive compilation of resources on O’Connor serves as an excellent starting point for detailed projects on the author.

Magee, Rosemary M., ed., Conversations with Flannery O’Connor, Jackson, MS: University of Mississippi Press, 1987.
Interviews with O’Connor throughout her career. These selections cover a wide range of subjects and provide readers with insight into her candid and witty personality.

McFarland, Dorothy Tuck, Flannery O’Connor, New York: Frederick Ungar, 1976.
This concise book is a valuable introduction to O’Connor’s life, career, and the primary themes of her fiction. McFarland offers in-depth analysis of O’Connor’s short stories and novels.

O’Connor, Flannery, Mysteries and Manners: Occasional Prose, edited by Sally and Robert Fitzgerald. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1969.
After O’Connor’s passing, the Fitzgeralds compiled her nonfiction in this volume. It includes unpublished essays, lectures, and previously released articles.

Teilhard de Chardin, Pierre, The Phenomenon of Man, New York: HarperCollins, 1980.
This complex theological work, which inspired the story’s title and message, provides insight into O’Connor’s views on religion and ethics.