Sonny’s Blues

Sonny’s Blues

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  • EXPOSITION: "So we drove along, between the green of the park and the stony, lifeless elegance of hotels and apartment buildings, towards the vivid, killing streets of our childhood. These streets had not changed, though housing projects jutted up out of them now like rocks in the middle of a boiling sea. 
  • CONFLICT: "He had been picked up, the Evening before, in a raid on an apartment down town, for peddling and using heroin ... I told myself that Sonny was wild, but he was not crazy. And he had always been a good boy, he had not ever turned hard or evil or disrespectful, the way kids can, so quick, so quick, especially in Harlem. 
  • RISING ACTION:"When I finally did, it was just after my little girl died, and he wrote me back a letter which made me feel like a bastard. Here's what he said: Dear brother, You don't know how much I needed to hear from you. I wanted to write you many a time but I dug how much I must have hurt you and so I didn't write. But now I feel like a man who's been trying to climb up out of some deep, real deep and funky hole and just saw the sun up there, outside. I got to get outside.
  • CLIMAX:" Your father says he heard his brother scream when the car rolled over him, and he heard the wood of that guitar when it give, and he heard them strings go flying, and he heard them white men shouting, and the car kept on a-going and it ain't stopped till this day. And, time your father got down the hill, his brother weren't nothing but blood and pulp.
  • FALLING ACTION: "Look, brother. I do not want to stay in Harlem no more, I really do not." He was very earnest. He looked at me, then over towards the kitchen window. There was something in his eyes. I'd never seen before, some thoughtfulness, some worry all his own. He rubbed the muscle of one arm. "It's time I was getting out of here." "Where do you want to go. Sonny?" "I want to join the army. Or the navy, I do not care. If I say I'm old enough, they'll believe me."
  • RESOLUTION: Freedom lurked around us and I understood, at last, that he could help us to be free if we would listen, that he would never be free until we did. Yet, there was no battle in his face now, I heard what he had gone through, and would continue to go through until he came to rest in earth. He had made it his: that long line, of which we knew only Mama and Daddy. And he was giving it back, as everything must be given back, so that,passing through death, it can live forever.
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