Linden Hills

“Because when men begin to claw men for the rights to a vacuum that stretches into eternity, then it becomes so painfully clear that the omnipresent, omnipotent, Almighty Divine is simply the will to possess. It had chained the earth to the names of a few and it would chain the cosmos as well.”

Here, Luther Nedeed is considering what has gone wrong with Linden Hills and his ancestor’s dream. He recognizes that the neighborhood and community he has inherited is nothing more than the “will to possess,” and when this is the only thing that men aspire to, then it leads to the enslavement—or chaining—of all to “the names of a few,” meaning that only a very few will benefit—the very privileged—while the rest of society will remain beholden and enslaved.

“Linden Hills wasn’t black; it was successful. The shining surface of their careers, brass railings, and cars hurt his eyes because it only reflected the bright nothing that was inside of them.”

Even though the original Luther Nedeed intended Linden Hills to be “a black wad of spit right in the white eye of America,” it has become simply “successful” and so has lost its black identity entirely (9). Moreover, this success has only inspired a community of people with a “bright nothing” inside them, as success and the aspiration to possess will only degrade people, not improve them.

“And up means down in the Hills. Ain’t that a bust? Down toward Tupelo Drive. They’re scraping and clawing to move closer to that weirdo, Nedeed, and his damn funeral parlor.” 

Here, Lester describes how to rise in status in Linden Hills, you must descend the hill to get closer to the Nedeed mansion. This descent also symbolizes a moral descent; as residents move closer and closer to the center of hell, they degrade and debase themselves in the process.

“‘Fences, White, fences. Even at the university: big, stone fences—and why? The gates are open, so it’s not to keep anybody out or in. Why fences?’ He looked at his friend’s blank face. ‘To get you used to the idea that what they have in there is different, special. Something to be separated from the rest of the world. They get you thinking fences, man, don’t you see it?’” 

Lester explains to Willie why he didn’t want to go to university, as his mother wanted. He argues that universities, with their fences and walls, only promote exclusivity, wanting to keep those inside separate from those outside. Lester, like Willie, wants to be a poet and believes that poetry can only be written by living outside in the world, not by separating himself from it. He also describes how these fences create a “them-and-us thing,” promoting divisions and hierarchies in communities (47).

“His father was right: breaking in a wife is like breaking in a good pair of slippers. Once you’d gotten used to them, you’d wear them until they fell apart, rather than go to the trouble of buying a new pair.” 

This quote is an example of the misogynistic beliefs that Luther Nedeed holds and acts upon. Here, he is considering the fact that his wife may have cheated on him, and he uses this suspicion to justify imprisoning her. The idea that “breaking in a wife is like breaking in a good pair of slippers” is not only demeaning to women—reducing them to nothing more than slippers, only there to provide comfort and be trodden upon—but also violent and cruel. It’s a stark illustration of his authoritarian household rule.

“No, this man gave him his center, but the world had given him no words—and ultimately no way—with which to cherish that. He smiled bitterly and looked up. ‘Don’t you see what I’m up against? How am I going to live with you when they haven’t even made up the right words for what we are to each other.’” 

In Chapter 3, we meet Winston Alcott on his wedding day. However, Winston Alcott is in love with his best friend David, a relationship he has thrown away because homophobia would prevent him from pursuing a successful career if he were to come out. In this quote, we learn that Winston’s relationship with David is not simply a passing fling, but a deep and lasting love, a fact that only emphasizes what Winston has chosen to give up. Winston also recognizes that there are no “words for what we are to each other,” which implies that prevalent homophobia would not allow their community to recognize their relationship.

“The laughing woman with the apparently ignored fur trailing on the floor now told Willie what he’d missed from that room: spontaneity. His eyes flew around the long hall again over lifted glasses, backslaps, and nibbling mouths. And he could see that he hadn’t been alone in his awe of all that splendor. He was actually watching them watch themselves this type of affair.” 

In this quote, Willie is watching the Alcott wedding from the kitchen, where he and Lester are helping to clean plates. Intrigued by the Linden Hills community, he watches the guests as they eat and notices a woman drop her “fur,” but it’s obvious she manipulated the entire action for effect. Seeing this, Willie realizes that there is something very wrong with the people who live in Linden Hills, as they lack spontaneity and true enjoyment. Instead, they are more concerned with “watching themselves”—with appreciating their elevated social status and relishing their own success.

“While his rise had been meteoric and his cashmere suits managed to withstand the change of altitude, that tenth-floor office with its shag carpet and oak panels housed a fragile god. Because Xavier was forced to see his exploits as much more than those of some superman, he had to join the rest of General Motors and worship the rise of a Super Nigger. So he found himself as only a high priest perched in a temple and burdened with the care of this image.” 

Xavier Donnell, a resident of Third Crescent Drive, has succeeded in rising to the tenth floor of General Motors. He recognizes that this kind of success renders him a kind of “superman” precisely because of the institutionalized racism at corporations such as these. Because of this, he is forced to view himself as a “fragile god” or “high priest”—even though he isn’t—because this is the way that his colleagues view him. To them, it’s inconceivable that he could have made it to the tenth floor. What this quote highlights is not only the institutional racism that makes Xavier’s success so unusual, but also the racial bias of his white colleagues who believe that only a “god” could be as accomplished as the rest of them.

“To even the most careful observer, this man seemed to have made the very elements disappear, while it was no more than the psychological sleight-of-hand that he used to make his blackness disappear.” 

This quote describes how Maxwell Smyth—Xavier’s colleague at General Motors—has been able to “make his blackness disappear.” Maxwell has spent his entire life trying to achieve this—by monitoring his gait, speech, dress, appearance, and diet—believing that being colorless will provide the best chance of success. Maxwell is an example of someone who has internalized the racism and discrimination of a society that rewards “ivory-skinned credentials” and in which it is far more difficult to move up in the world if you are not white (98).

“Being white was the furthest thing from his mind, since he spent every waking moment trying to be no color at all.” 

This is another example of Maxwell Smyth’s attitude toward his racial identity and belief that it’s possible for someone “to be no color at all.”

“Because Roxanne Tilson is only the clone of a whole mass that are coming out of these colleges with their hot little fists clenched around those diplomas and they aren’t ready to hear nothing from nobody, least of all you. When they’ve done that four- or six-year stint at the Yales, Stanfords, or Brandeises, they no longer think they’re women, but walking miracles. They’re ready to ask a hell of a lot from the world then and a hell of a lot from you. They’re hungry and they’re climbers, Xavier, with an advanced degree in expectations.” 

Xavier Donnell invites Maxwell Smyth to his house to ask his advice regarding Roxanne Tilson. Xavier is in love with Roxanne but can’t decide whether or not to marry her, fearing that the marriage could inhibit his career. Maxwell advises Xavier not to marry because most educated women “no longer think they’re women, but walking miracles” who no longer listen to men or allow themselves to be subordinate to men, as Maxwell believes they should be. This is an example of misogyny, as Maxwell paints women like Roxanne as demanding “climbers,” rather than as educated women who will not tolerate subordinating themselves.

“You know, it’s that sort of attitude that will keep some people cleaning out garages for the rest of their lives. Being black has nothing to do with being poor. And being poor doesn’t mean that you have to stay that way.” 

After his conversation with Xavier, Maxwell Smyth meets Willie and Lester in Xavier’s house, where they have been cleaning out the garage for Xavier’s aunt. During this meeting, Maxwell and Willie get into an argument about poverty and race. Here, Maxwell expresses his opinion that “being black has nothing to do with being poor” and suggests that the only reason black people are poor is because of laziness and a lack of aspiration; by doing so, Maxwell denies systemized and institutional racism, as well as historical oppression, and regurgitates a derogatory stereotype. In response, Willie points out the “coincidence” that “the majority of black folks in this country are poor” and so highlights the historical oppression of African American communities as a factor in wealth disparities.

“‘Then I guess it’s just a coincidence’—Willie felt his heart pounding—‘that the majority of black folks in this country are poor, have been poor, and will be poor for a long time to come.’”

Here, Willie is responding to Maxwell Smyth, who argues that it is possible for “black folks” to acquire wealth and success through hard work and determination, as Maxwell himself has done. In response, Willie argues that institutional racism and the historical oppression of African Americans are responsible for their continued impoverishment, and that for some, no amount of hard work could elevate their status because they lack the opportunities to do so.

“But the postures in front of the church had slowly stiffened under the cashmere, silk, and beaver skins, so he had to reach over them to the others, where he felt a supple willingness to receive, be filled, and return the energy he needed to keep going. Then the line was three-fourths because they were not sitting all the way up in the back. And it was left to him to find something to help generate a circular current over the heads and bodies that threatened to absorb the flow with their plastic postures.” 

Reverend Michael Hollis became a preacher because of the “circular current” he felt whenever he preached to a congregation—a feeling that provided his purpose in life. However, when he became the preacher of Mount Sinai—the church for Linden Hills—he noticed “the postures in front of the church had slowly stiffened,” and he found it increasingly difficult to experience that same level of “current” and spirituality he had felt before. As a result, he uses alcohol to replace that “energy.” The “plastic postures” of the Linden Hills congregation illustrates how spiritually empty the inhabitants have become. Attending church is simply a task they must accomplish; it is not a religious or spiritual event.

“The mourners sat there with the stilted patience that accompanies the beginning of a business meeting. A few even glanced at their watches. This time the agenda was death and they had simply come to pay their respects. But like all debts, if the process was too lengthy and complicated, the feelings of obligation would turn into resentment.”

This quote describes the attitude and behavior of the Linden Hills residents during the funeral of a former neighbor. By describing the funeral—which should be an emotional and difficult event—as though it is nothing more than a mundane “business meeting,” something that merely needs to be completed, this scene accurately depicts the community’s lack of emotional integrity or feeling.

“Luther Nedeed had just placed Lycentia Parker’s life into the hands of a savior they could understand—they had saved themselves. This very building stood as a living testament to that and that was the gospel they wanted to hear under its gold-leafed ceiling.” 

During Lycentia Parker’s funeral, Reverend Michael Hollis, inspired by Willie, decides to discard his prepared sermon and instead give an emotionally charged speech. However, this sermon isn’t well received by the congregation, and they are relieved when Luther Nedeed replaces the reverend and provides a mundane, empty eulogy instead. In this quote, the narrator describes why Luther’s eulogy was so welcome to the congregation: While the reverend passionately called upon God—a being they cannot understand—Luther’s speech recognizes the power of their own status and success, which is precisely the “savior they could understand.”

“But what frightened him the most was the reflection of his own dark face in those blue irises. That alone had the power to get his head split open or his insides blown apart—just because it was there. It wasn’t a matter of innocence or guilt at that moment; it was a matter of trying to find a way to achieve the vital balance between moving too quickly, too slowly, and not at all, that would save his life until he could explain.” 

Willie and Lester are walking through Linden Hills, searching for work, when they are detained by two white policemen who don’t believe that Lester lives in Linden Hills. Both boys are then held at gunpoint. Here, we learn how frightened Willie is as the “blue irises” of the cop stare straight into his. He realizes that “his own dark face” has “the power to get his head split open or his insides blown apart,” and he recognizes how vulnerable he is because of his race.

“Perhaps, just once, if she had failed a course, missed a plane connection, or glittered less at Howard’s parties, she might have had time to think about who she was and what she really wanted, but it never happened. And when she finally took a good look around, she found herself imprisoned within a chain of photographs and a life that had no point.” 

Laurel Dumont lives on First Crescent Drive and has a successful career at IBM. However, despite all of this apparent success and happiness, she has “found herself imprisoned within a chain of photographs and a life that had no point”. Her success and happiness have all been for show, with no real purpose to it at all. Ultimately, Laurel ends up committing suicide, which dramatically illustrates what can happen to a person if they pursue success and wealth and nothing else.

“I’m talking about not being able to stop the course of human history, a collective history or an individual one. You can delay the inevitable, set up roadblocks and detours if you will, but that personal tragedy today was just a minute part of a greater tragedy that had afflicted this community for decades. And the person who watched it unfold understood that. He understood that to try and stop her would be like trying to ward off a flood with a teacup.” 

Here, Daniel Braithwaite—the historian who lives on First Crescent Drive—argues with Willie about Luther Nedeed’s responsibility to the individuals in Linden Hills, specifically Laurel Dumont. Just like Willie, Braithwaite saw how Luther Nedeed had watched Laurel Dumont commit suicide and done nothing about it. However, while Willie argues that Luther Nedeed had a responsibility to try to stop her, Braithwaite argues that Laurel Dumont is simply part of a “collective history”—namely, the “greater tragedy that had afflicted this community for decades”—and that no single person or action could halt “the course of human history.” Braithwaite questions the worth of an individual action: If one person acts while no one else does, is there any point in that single person still doing something? This question of individual action applies to many of the issues Naylor investigates in the novel: the oppression of women, racism and racial stereotyping, police brutality, etc. All of these issues are too big for any single person to solve, but does that mean that a single person shouldn’t try to do something? Braithwaite argues that they shouldn’t—that they will never be able to help—while Willie, and thus Naylor, argues the opposite, stating that individuals still have the responsibility to try.

“Now, moving in here had simply become the thing to do, the place to be. But to be what? They don’t see that clapboard house at the bottom of the hill anymore. At the foot of this hill are colored men with a sense of purpose about their history and their being. If Laurel Dumont had had that, she wouldn’t have been so tormented that she felt the need to throw her life away.” 

Daniel Braithwaite identifies that something is fundamentally wrong with Linden Hills and the dream its residents believe they are pursuing. Everyone wants to live in Linden Hills—it is the “place to be”—but no one has any idea what purpose living there serves. This means that when someone moves into the Linden Hills neighborhood, they suddenly become lost, as they have achieved their aspiration only to realize that this dream is an empty dream with no true meaning of its own.

“The entire face, the size of a large thumbprint, had been removed. This had been done on purpose. There was no way this wasn’t done on purpose. Cleaning fluid. Bleach. A drop of hot grease. Over and over, page after page, the smeared hole gaped out into the dim light.”

Locked in the basement, Willa Prescott Nedeed finds the photograph album that belonged to a previous Mrs. Nedeed. In each progressive picture, the woman’s face grows dimmer and dimmer until it has finally disappeared. The “smeared hole” that replaces her face symbolizes the dissolution of her individuality and autonomy under the authoritarian rule of her husband and son—a system of female oppression that unveils new and vicious meaning in Willa’s imprisonment.

“He had never heard her name. A whole week in Linden Hills and he had never heard her name.” 

Throughout the novel, Willie finds himself thinking about Luther Nedeed’s wife—Willa Prescott Nedeed—especially after noting Luther’s lie about his wife baking the cake he brings to a funeral party. In the book’s final chapter, Willie realizes that “he had never heard her name,” as he has only ever heard her referred to as Mrs. Nedeed. When Willie realizes this, it draws the reader’s attention to the fact that the narrative has never once used her name, and we only learn it after Willie’s revelation. This lack of name emphasizes the dissolution of Willa’s agency through her marriage to Luther, an agency she only regains in the novel’s final chapter.

“A wedding that was like a funeral, and a funeral that was already a wedding. If anything was the problem with Linden Hills, it was that nothing seemed to be what it really was.” 

This quote notes that Linden Hills is the sort of place where a wedding can resemble a funeral (e.g., Winston Alcott’s wedding) and a funeral can resemble a wedding (e.g., Lycentia Parker’s funeral, during which her husband is already preparing for his mistress to move in). In Linden Hills, “nothing seemed to be what it really was” precisely because it is the place where “up means down,” where rising in status means descending deeper into hell.