That Toddlin’ Town?
The City of Big Shoulders is a big shrug to the man who has seen Tahiti. Edward Barnard has seen Tahiti. He is a man of vision and he likes what he sees. The paradise of simplicity has also fundamentally challenged his notions of everything he once believed to be a natural fact. Like the idea that Chicago was not just a toddlin’ town, but the greatest city in the world:
“I think of Chicago now and I see a dark, grey city, all stone--it is like a prison--and a ceaseless turmoil.”
She’s No Isabel
Edward’s story is not just a tale of two places, but a tale of two women. There is Isabel back in Chicago. And there is Eva in Tahiti. One is like the night and the other like the day. One is like the brutal cold of lake effect snow and the other is Eva:
“I don't feel like that with Eva. She's like a beautiful exotic flower that must be sheltered from bitter winds.”
Bateman Just Isn’t In It
Bateman Hunter has an absolutely terrible name. Really, it is just awful, right? Which is too bad because while he is stodgy, unimaginative, stick in the mud, he’s not really bad enough to be saddled with such a name. He is not evil or malevolent or even particularly offensive. He’s just the kind of guy who simply doesn’t get it and never will. And so, he can expect to be one of those people who rarely gets a good night’s sleep even when there really isn’t anything to lose sleep over:
“In ten minutes Bateman knew by his regular breathing, peaceful as a child's, that Edward was asleep. But for his part he had no rest, he was disturbed in mind, and it was not till the dawn crept into the room, ghostlike and silent, that he fell asleep.”
What Are You Talking About?
Arnold Jackson is the recipient of Bateman Hunter’s lack of imagination. Admittedly, Arnold Jackson doesn’t have the most respectable backstory in the world despite being the uncle of Bateman’s beloved Isobel, but he served his time and paid the price doled out of his crimes. Bateman just can’t will himself to get over harsh feelings, however, no matter how much Jackson proves himself worthy of redemptive interaction:
“The mirage of romance obscured the light of common day. Had he forgotten that Arnold Jackson had a tongue of silver, a tongue by which he had charmed vast sums out of the credulous public, a tongue which very nearly enabled him to escape the penalty of his crimes?"
That’s It?
Mr. Hunter is so deep into the conventions of Chicago-stye life that he cannot conceive that Edward might actually prefer to eat pizza with pineapples. Well, of course, nobody should ever have conceived of such an abomination, but that’s beside the point. When Edward point-blank asks his old friend what, exactly, is the ultimate reward of staying in the rat race and racing through that maze just to find the cheese, Bateman’s answer could not be more metaphorically hollow:
"His reward is the consciousness of having achieved what he set out to do."
