Personal Prisons in Henry Roth’s Call it Sleep

by Tom Johns

America is known as the land of the free. An almost magical country where opportunity is in abundance. One can come over a Nobody and end their life a Somebody. Yet this is not the picture to be found in Henry Roth’s novel, Call it Sleep. In his narrative, Roth paints a bleak portrait of America and those living in it. His main characters, Albert, Genya, and David Schearl, though living in this supposed “land of the free,” are in fact prisoners. Each one of them is tied to a past or a situation that they either can’t escape or will not allow themselves to be free of. From the very beginning of the novel, Roth shows the reader that America will not be the land of freedom that his characters thought it would be. This can be seen in the awkward reunion of Albert and Genya after their many months spent apart, but a cleverer foreshadowing of this can be found in Roth’s description of the Statue of Liberty.And before them, rising on her high pedestal from the scaling swarmy brilliance of sunlit water to the west, Liberty. The spinning disk of the late afternoon sun slanted behind her, and to those on board who gazed, her features were charred with shadow, her depths exhausted, her masses ironed to one single plane. Against the luminous sky the rays of her halo were spikes of darkness roweling the air; shadow flattened the torch she bore to a block cross against flawless light—the blackened hilt of a broken sword. Liberty (Roth 14).Rather than describing Lady Liberty in a majestic way to communicate the beautiful freedom to be found in America, Roth paints the picture of something deep in the stages of decay. For the all the brightness of the daylight around them, the icon of American liberty stands deep in shadow. And as the story unfolds, the reader finds that each of Roth’s characters also stand deep in shadow. They are all free, yet remain prisoners to something. They are afflicted, just as the Children of Israel continued to be afflicted, even after their exodus from Egypt.Albert Schearl’s prison is a combination of guilt, paranoia, and anger. The guilt he feels is over his father’s death, back in the old country. Roth communicates these feelings subtly, primarily using David’s observations and other people’s remarks to clue the reader in to Albert’s surprising secret. When Luter visits the family for the first time, David notices a relaxed attitude in his father not normally present when it is just the three of them. Albert speaks of home and of his job tending cattle.And urged on by only a sympathetic look from Luter, to hear him speak of his youth, he, who was so taciturn and thin-lipped, whom David never could think of as having a youth, speaking of his youth, of the black and white bulls he had tended for his father (and try to hide a frown at the word, father, he, who never hid his displeasure (Roth 31)).Something stirs beneath Albert’s surface. Guilt festers in his heart and mind. He is angry because mentioning the cattle and his father always brings about a reaction in himself. Perhaps at the root at this reaction there is shame for not being stronger, for not overcoming the past. Or maybe there is anger at himself for not stopping what could’ve been stopped. Later in the narrative, when Luter fails to arrive for dinner because of his wife hunting, Albert comments on his friend’s foolishness. “‘In Tysmenicz,’ he scowled sourly as he settled into a chair, ‘the peasant who tended my—’ (There was always that hitch in his speech before the word) ‘my father’s cattle used to say that a man had to be born a fool to be one (Roth 115).” Again there is a reaction to the word “father.” Memories are stirred, feelings renewed. In part IV of the novel, Albert makes two special purchases. The first is a new whip to replace one that he broke. The second is a pair of bull’s horns on a plaque. David questions his mother about the purchases:“Did he buy it?”“Why yes, of course. When he bought the whip.”“Oh! Is that why he got it?”“Why yes, it reminded him of the time when he took care of cattle (Roth 298).”Here, Albert moves beyond simple verbal reminders. He has a symbol now, a visible sign of his guilt. The very instruments of his father’s death will be hanging in the living room, day in and day out for all to see. The reader must ask him or herself a question. If something as simple as saying that word, “father,” conjures up guilt and self hatred, what kind of an affect will the daily presence of those horns have on him? The result of his obsession, even before he buys the horns, is madness in both senses of the word. Albert has no peace. He is angry with himself for not saving his father and this self loathing seeps out, touching every other aspect of his life. He is verbally abusive to those around him, particularly Genya and David, and occasionally his outbursts are of a physically violent nature, as when he is fired from his job at the printing press for nearly killing a man with a hammer, and when he beats David with a hanger for accidentally hitting Yussie. His aggressive and paranoid behavior leads people to make comments on the stability of his sanity. “He’s crazy (Roth 25),” Albert’s former boss says. And the secretary at the same place of business remarks, “He ought to be in a padded cell (Roth 26).” Aunt Bertha, after having her new drawers ripped by Albert cries, “Madman! Mad (Roth 158)!” Even Genya declares that he is insane when, during the novel’s climax, he insists that David is a bastard child. “You’re mad! There’s no other word (Roth 392)!” she says. After obsessing and obsessing over this singular event in his life, Albert has let a vicious darkness come in and take hold of him, and no one is left untouched by its fury.Genya’s prison also has ties to the past, but of much more concern is the restrictive nature of the present. At this time in history, America has little to offer women, especially women such as Genya. That being the case, she is tied to the home much of the time. But above and beyond simply the restrictions of the nation, there is the restrictive nature of her marriage to Albert. He is not physically abusive towards her, nor does he keep her locked up, but Albert’s anger colors things and because there appears to be little love in his heart for her, one could definitely call it restrictive. The absence of love keeps the relationship from being what it could be. Aunt Bertha, speaking to her sister about their parents and about marriage, says, “A wife should have driven a man like that, not coddled him, not pampered him to ruin. Soft and meek she was…She let herself be trampled on (Roth 152).” While Genya hasn’t pampered or coddled Albert, her attitude is certainly soft and meek, and as a result she does allow herself to be trampled on by her husband’s words. Yet, it is not weakness that causes her to stay with her husband, it is strength and loyalty. She has made a vow, a commitment, and she will stick to it, even if it means unhappiness on her part. David, watching his parents discuss Luter’s decision to find a wife, notes something interesting about Genya’s behavior.“All I hope is he doesn’t blame my married happiness for his marriage!” He uttered the last words with a peculiar challenging emphasis.David who was watching his mother as she stood above her husband serving him, saw her bosom swell up slowly as though responding to minute increments of pain, and then without response, exhale tautly her muted breath and look off blankly and resigned (Roth 115).Albert’s words are sarcastic and they strike a nerve in David’s mother. As a young woman, she had had hopes of a happy marriage, turning down suitor after suitor, waiting for the right man. “German Romances! They did that (Roth 165)” Aunt Bertha says. But Genya’s hopes have been dashed and the reader can see the disappointment, frustration, and pain she’s experiencing in this one sigh. “Do you believe in love (Roth 165)?” Aunt Bertha asks her at one point. Genya’s answer is no, she doesn’t. Her girlish dreams are nothing but pale shadows now.However, David’s mother has another reason for staying with Albert that goes beyond her marriage vows to him. Her marriage to David’s father is an act of repentance. As a young woman, Genya had a relationship with a Gentile. This caused her family much grief and she was nearly disowned because of it. Marrying Albert put her back into good graces with her family. But Genya hasn’t forgotten the past, and like Albert, she has a physical reminder of her sin. Roth describes the symbol. “It was a picture of a small patch of ground full of tall green stalks, at the foot of which, tiny blue flowers grew (Roth 172).” During the novel’s climax, Albert accuses David’s mother of having sex with Ludwig, her Gentile lover, in a field of this type. Genya denies this, but perhaps there is some truth to his statement. Her memories may not be of a sexual nature, but nevertheless the end of her affair with Ludwig marked the end her belief in love. The picture, therefore, stands as a symbol for something Genya once believed in but no longer does, as well as a dark reminder of the loveless situation she is in now. And it is in this situation that she must stay, because to leave Albert would mean more grief for her family. She has already shamed them once. She will not shame them again. Finally there is David, whose prison is of a much more complex and unwieldy nature than either Albert’s or Genya’s. Fear is what holds him back, and often the thing that stands as a symbol for his fear is the cellar at the bottom of the tenement house in Brownsville. This is especially true after his encounter with Annie, but even before then he is afraid of the darkness waiting behind the closed door. A few steps from the bottom landing, he paused and stared rigidly at the cellar door. It bulged with darkness. Would it hold?...It held! He jumped from the last steps and raced through the narrow hallway to the light of the streets (Roth 20).David, like nearly every other young child, is scared of the dark, and at this point in his life, that is reason enough to be afraid. But after spending an afternoon with Yussie and Annie, everything changes. The dark, empty room at the bottom of the stairs becomes something more terrifying.He sprang from the steps, three at a time, more than he had ever tried before, stumbled to his knees, dropping his strap of books, but the next moment shot to his feet again, and sped like a hunted thing to the pale light of the doorway (Roth 58).There is much more fear behind David’s actions now because he actually has a reason to be scared. The dark cellar is no longer just a hiding place for monsters, it is a reminder of the closet in Annie’s apartment, where “Bad” is played and private parts are touched by strangers who are bigger, older, and who have the power to bully and manipulate. The terrors of the world aren’t simply imaginary anymore; they are real and close at hand. This experience stunts David’s ability to build relationships and make friends because it leads to an increased distrust in everything around him. When David sits in the police station, waiting for his mother to find him, he thinks, “Trust nothing. Wherever you look, never believe. Whatever anything was or did or said, it pretended… If you played hide’n’-go-seek, it wasn’t hide’n’-go-seek, it was something else, something sinister (Roth 102).” David also takes his experience in the dark and connects it with events that to a normal mind may not have any connection at all, but in the mind of Roth’s protagonist, bear a horrible likeness. One day, on his way home from school, David passes by a funeral carriage that is about to be loaded up with a coffin. In his apartment, he makes a connection between the recent past and what he’s just seen.Left alone, he became despondent again. His thoughts returned to Luter. He would come again this evening…Would they have to run away every Thursday? Go to Yussie’s house? Would he have to play with Annie again? He didn’t want to. He never wanted to see her again. And he would have to. The way he did this afternoon beside the carriages. The black carriage with the window. Scared. The long box. Scared. The cellar. No! No! (Roth 64).So, not only does David connect the cellar with Annie, but he also connects the cellar with death. What is even scarier is that later, after David assumes he’s killed a neighborhood boy by pushing him down in the street, a link is also made between his “murder” of the small child and his experience with Annie. Suddenly, he is no longer a victim; he is the one at fault. Again, David thinks as he waits for his mother at the police station.They would never call his mother, never. He knew. They would keep him there. That rat cellar underneath. That rat cellar! That boy he pushed was still. Coffin-box still. They knew it. And they knew about Annie. They made believe they didn’t, but they knew (Roth 102).He understands both the “death” of the neighborhood boy and the closet experience to be his fault, something he should be punished for. This drives David’s search for God and self deliverance and it is why, during the novel’s climax, he offers up to his father the broken whip. He had a chance to redeem himself earlier, when he and Leo went to Aunt Bertha’s drugstore. While there, history repeated itself. Esther was taken advantage of; another child was made afraid of the cellar. David knew what was going on but did nothing to stop it. Now he sees his chance to be free, to make up for his silence. He hands the whip to Albert and awaits his purification. However, it is not his father’s beating that sets him free; it is the light from the rail, a light that is David’s own version of Isaiah’s coal. Does this cut the ties of David’s entanglement? Roth doesn’t give the reader a concrete answer, but at the end there is a glimmer of hope.Each of Roth’s characters is struggling to live in their newfound freedom, but none are truly free. Albert is tied to guilt, Genya to her marriage, and David to fear. In the end, it is only David who searches for deliverance, and in a way he finds it. And perhaps by David’s self deliverance, his parents will find freedom as well. The reader would do well to pay attention to Roth’s narrative because it isn’t only in novels that characters are imprisoned in the past. Everyday, the people of this world move under the painful weight of their own histories. Roth shows readers the hell of living in such a way and illustrates the necessity of searching for deliverance and finding hope.Craig Willis is an associate staff writer. Upon graduation, he started a career in term paper writing and has been working on term papers and essays.

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