Sexuality as a Fleeting Connection Between Alison and Bruce

 Sexuality as a Fleeting Connection Between Alison and Bruce

In Alison Bechdel’s Fun Home, Alison explicitly contrasts her own sexuality to that of her father. While she and Bruce didn’t have a close relationship during his lifetime, they have one crucial trait in common, their sexuality, which causes a confusing connection that Alison has to navigate after her father’s death. Alison describes her relationship with her father Bruce as distant, recalling feeling like nothing but a piece of furniture or an extra set of hands for his constant renovations on their house. Throughout her childhood, she illustrates her father as uncaring and cold, never feeling comfortable enough for any physical affection or open enough to confide in. She illustrates her family as completely separate, each in their own spaces, working on their own projects, only coming together when absolutely necessary; she describes that “the more gratification we found in our own geniuses, the more isolated we grew” (Bechdel 134). Despite the fact that Alison felt so disconnected to her father during her childhood, once she became a young adult, their relationship took a slight turn. 

Once Bruce realizes that they have similar interests in literature, he takes it as an opportunity to connect with her––granted, this connection is slightly odd, with him playing more of a teacher figure than a father figure, but still, a connection nonetheless––and begins to share and discuss his favorite books with her. Bruce ends up using his new role as a provider of literature for Alison as a way to reach out to her; when he gives her Collette’s autobiography to read, she wonders if this choice was intentional. She later asks Bruce if he “knew what [he was] doing” by having her read this autobiography, to which he responds “I didn’t really. It was just a guess. I guess there was some kind of… identification” (Bechdel 220). By bringing up this book, Alison sparks one of the most honest conversations we see her have with Bruce about his life. Literature plays a big role in connecting Alison and Burce, and their connection through literature drives most of their connection through sexuality.  

The moment that Alison is told about her Father’s affairs with men, it is initially a shock, but later leads her to be more open with her father. When Helen tells Alison about her father’s sexuality, it is in reaction to Alison’s own coming out, directly linking the two; if Alison had never come out, she might not have ever been told about her father’s sexuality during his lifetime. Despite the fact that his sexuality is such a shame in his life, Bruce is surprisingly open with Alison about his sexuality, and it ends up bringing the two together in an unexpected way. When Alison comes out to her parents, she is doing so with the assumption that they wouldn’t understand, because they’ve never had to go through what she’s going through, but in reality, her father has gone through something very similar. While Alison is juggling with the idea of living as an out gay person––with her mother advising against it––Bruce admits that “There’ve been a few times I thought I might have preferred to take a stand” (Bechdel 211). Bruce clearly handled the issue of his sexuality very differently than Alison, but he has a better sense of what she’s going through than what Alison had originally assumed, and is able to give advice and opinions based on his own lived experiences. Alison had always felt like she had nothing to connect with her father about, and had felt like her father wanted nothing to do with her life or her interests, but when she comes out to him, it opens a door for a connection that she never knew existed. The biggest shame in Bruce’s life becomes one of the core things that connects him to his daughter. 

Throughout the novel, Alison contrasts the way she handled her sexuality with the way her father did, and explicitly compares them to each other. She compares old pictures of her father to pictures of her at the same age, wondering if he was feeling the same way that she was, wondering how similar their experiences were. This is a very confusing thing for Alison to contemplate, wondering how her father’s experiences compared to her own, and having to look back on his life without him, wondering what the truth is behind each picture he took and each letter he wrote. Alison and Bruce have more in common than Alison knew for a majority of her lifetime, but the trait that connects them is one that Bruce spent his entire life trying to hide, leaving Alison little to nothing to go off of while trying to retrospectively search for a connection between them. Bruce’s story is one of a million “what if’s,” and with Bruce dead, Alison has no choice but to guess what her father’s story was, and what it could have been. After a lifetime of trying to find a connection with her father, once she finally (and very unexpectedly) finds one, it turns out to be his deepest shame, and something he would never openly live out.

The Perpetual Threat of The Bell Jar

 The Perpetual Threat of The Bell Jar

After Esther has received all of her shock treatments, and has been essentially “cured” of her depression, she describes the metaphorical bell jar that had been trapping her finally being lifted. She describes a feeling of breathing fresh air and being able to see the world without the distorted lens of the bell jar. At the end of the book, the bell jar is still lifted, and Esther is finally able to begin imagining her future again, starting where she left off after the mental breakdown she describes as a “six month lapse” (Plath 236). Esther seems to be planning to go back to business as usual; she will go back to school, continue her streak of academic achievement, and reach the accomplishments she’s been working for her whole life. There is one line, though, that sticks out through all of this seemingly hopeful description of the future that has now been opened back up to her. Esther isn’t actually sure about her future, and how realistic all of these plans are for her. As she describes it, “How did I know that someday––at college, in Europe, somewhere, anywhere––the bell jar, with its stifling distortions, wouldn’t descend again?” (Plath 241). This sentence leaves the reader sharing some of Esther’s doubts about the viability of her future. It establishes the fact that the bell jar isn’t gone, and it won’t ever be, but it is only “[hanging], suspended, a few feet above [her] head” (Plath 214). The way that Sylvia Plath chooses to describe the bell jar leaves room for speculation on whether or not someone can ever truly be free of the distortions of the bell jar. 

This theme of the perpetually looming bell jar is consistent with Plath’s poetry, most notably her poem Lady Lazarus. In Lady Lazarus, Plath details her descent back into depression and suicidal ideation: “I am only thirty. / And like a cat I have nine times to die. / What a trash / To annihilate each decade” (Plath). Plath describes her depression as repeating every ten years, and writes Lady Lazarus as if she is conscious of its return. She asserts that “Dying / Is an art, like everything else. / I do it exceptionally well,” and that, “Out of the ash / I rise with my red hair / And I eat men like air.” (Plath). In Lady Lazarus, Plath describes the same phenomenon that Esther was afraid of. The bell jar, for Plath, never really went away, and as it looms over her, she can recognize it and predict the effect it will have on her. Tragically, she assumes that this cycle will continue, and she will survive this next attempt, just like she survived her last one. Even if you can predict the bell jar falling, you can’t predict the effect it will have on you, and the things you will do while it is over you. 

Plath leaves the ending of The Bell Jar up to the reader’s interpretation; while Esther is doing better after her treatment, she still describes the bell jar looming over her and the memories of the things she’s gone through staying with her forever. In her fiction as well as her poetry, Plath describes the bell jar and its distortions as something that can never truly be cured, and will continue to loom over the people affected by it.