Redemption in Sonnys Blues
Once all the assignments were read, there was no engagement. Indeed, no contest existed after the last few paragraphs of Sonnys Blues. For in his attempt to coif us see Sonny through the eyes of his sidekick, the reason slips, carrying not only us but himself into the story.
Walking along with Sonnys blood brother I try desperately to tear myself away from the story. I dont like the language - it grates on my sensitivities. I dont like the bailiwick matter - it seems all too common to hold my interest. tho it does...because woven throughout the story is the age old crusade of good and evil. Sonny vies to find his place, seeming to grasp music, that failing to convey his destiny to those who cant believe, who wont believe.
The story captivated me, locomote me to tears and touched me in a special way. In the words of James Baldwin, I saw my protest struggle to find a place to belong. I heard my own words and music falling on the deaf ears of those who would not, could not believe in me. I ached for Sonny yet I knew his actions, his struggle with drugs, had taken his brother to the breaking point.
Sometimes the want to belong takes us beyond what others can accept or even understand.
But it was the second to the last paragraph that held me captive. I could divulge the music as Sonny played. I could see what his brother saw as the music held HIM captive. The tears on his wifes cheeks were mine. I could feel the ache in the hearts of those in the room. And I could see the beginnings of the healing process. All in the notes of Sonnys blues.
In the final...
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