Sabrina Maxwell Blog #2 - "Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?"

     When I first read the short story entitled, "Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?" written by Joyce Carol Oates, I was alarmed at the sense of true reality and toy horror that plays out in the words; not just in the story through and through, but even in the title. The feature presents an adolescent female of fifteen to be exact, and her constant struggle with the not-only-being-a-girl factor, but a young girl mixed in with her family who seemingly do not care to know who she really is. The young girl, namely Connie, is frequently questioned about her actions and her particular interest in her own looks and personality, by her family members, mostly her mother. Connie's mother bestows disapproving comments on her more often than a parent probably should and laces them with the notion of "why can't you be more like your sister?" Not one person seems to know why Connie acts the way she does, simply because they are themselves caught up in other "more important" things. Connie represents a perfect example of a young girl trying to find her way and her place in the big, excitingly, intimidating world in which she lives. Like her, we have all experienced being young and being so naive as to think that we are what the world revolves around; it is not until later years in which we mature, that we discover that the world does not revolve around us, individually, it is us, as human beings, that revolve and evolve around the world. Sometimes the realization of the world being bigger than what or how we view ourselves comes to us drastically, and in potentially dangerous ways. Arnold Friend, the antagonistic character, or more so the pedophile that attempts to lure the existence of innocence that is known to be Connie, just so happens to be that very realization. Not to say that Connie was asking for anything bad to happen to her or her family; the hunt for     the rape and murder of innocence tends to be a killer's fancied and much un-guilty pleasure.  Although the story ends on a rather severe and frightening note, there are several aspects of the story that stuck me in ways I will explain.
 First, it is no wonder why an adolescent would succumb to the idea of being alone in the world, and being the only one that can understand what he or she is going through. This process could be described as the early stages of puberty. "She knew she was pretty and that was everything." (Oates, p 1) Connie has not reached that level of puberty that would allow her to view the world in a more reserved fashion. She has been told that she is pretty, not only by people saying the words to her, but by the approving "looks" she obtains from almost faceless onlookers. She also declares that her mother believes her beauty is true and that is why her mother is constantly out to "get" her. Connie is not refusing to learn, she is simply learning about herself and about "her" world in her own way. The narrator describes Connie a great deal as well. For instance, "Connie had long dark blonde hair (...). She wore a pull-over jersey blouse that looked one way at home and another way when she was away from home. Everything about her had two sides to it, one for home and one for anywhere that was not home: her walk, which could be childlike and bobbing, or languid enough to make anyone think she was hearing music in her head." (Oates p. 1) I chose to mention this part of the story because it reminded me of when I was attending high-school. It was not a public school that I went to, but a very prestigious private, all-girl catholic school. Although it was a bit stricter and required all students to wear uniforms, (i.e., red white and blue plaid skirt, either a red white or blue polo shirt. red or blue cardigan, knee high white socks and mary janes) does not entirely mean that all of the girls acted as if they were "innocent." In fact, I remember being one of those girls whose parents bought the longest (1 inch above the knee) skirt they could find at catholic supply, wearing it as it was bought at home and then as soon as I was out of sight of parents, I rolled the skirt up more to show more skin. It was doing this that made me think that I was more attractive because having my skirt as short as possible got me the most attention from boys. The way Connie made herself look and act at home was very different from what happened away from home. She ties up her jersey like I rolled my skirt and deliberately un-tucked my polo. I know now that doing that kind of thing only got me what I view now as negative attention and almost crude. Connie did not know what she was doing to the other boys and in this case, Arnold Friend who was not a boy at all, but a grown man. She was putting herself out there, which she did mean to do but not in the sense of how Friend took it. Connie wanted to feel alive by connecting with other people and marvel at the attention, while Friend just took it as a way of easy access. In his view, she was not like the other girls, so of course his demented mind thought that the way she walked, the way she talked, and even the way she washed her hair; she did it all for him.
     Second,  the character, namely Arnold Friend is named by the narrator in a way to suggest a wolf in sheep's clothing, or a predator cloaked in an angelic light as to suggest that he is exactly the opposite from what he really is. He paints his victims into the alluring canvas of malicious lies, only to trap them, as a venus fly-trap traps an unknowingly willing soul to be devoured wholly for some form of simple pleasure or food. There are several signs and/or signals, within the particular words or phrases chosen by the narrator, that suggest Arnold Friend is everything but a friend to Connie. After all his first comment to her was, "I'm gonna get you, baby." At first it could be treated as a simple yet crude "cat-call" but later it is to be discovered as a warning to Connie, but how was she supposed to know that she had come in contact with an intrinsic psycho-path. Friend fits the description of a very normal, for lack of a better term, individual who is completely disconnected with the reality in which he lives in.
I am still working on my thesis, but I feel as though I have made some o.k. progress towards my first draft paper! The future comments are appreciated, thank you for your time. Happy Valentine's Day! :-)