The Twelve Tribes of Hattie

Like Hattie, August migrated from Georgia to Philadelphia. Whereas Hattie “came from a house on a hill,” however, he “came from a shack” (125), and Hattie often reminds him of his inferiority. When August was 19, “before he married Hattie, his friends warned him that a high yellow girl like her wouldn’t do anything but step on his neck” (89). He married her anyway, because after he seduced her, she wrote that she was pregnant.

In contrast to Hattie, August lacks ambition and is content with the life he has. He makes some effort to find work, but “he knew the game was rigged” (90) against him and other blacks. That “Hattie wouldn’t admit it” (90), preferring to blame him exclusively for their financial troubles, confounds August. Because she relentlessly directs her anger toward him, he believes he’s entitled to seek tenderness from other women.

August relies upon Hattie for her strength, however, as he lacks it himself, which becomes apparent when Hattie leaves him for Lawrence. August enjoys singing and playing with his children, but he has never been capable of putting their needs ahead of his own. Left alone with the children, he flounders when they become hungry and distressed by Hattie’s disappearance. August has grown dependent on Hattie, as she has on him. When she returns, August realizes “they were beyond punishment or forgiveness […] beyond love” (106) itself.

By the end of the novel, August is 74 years old, and his physical weakness compels him to take Hattie’s hand for support. He has not developed sufficient inner strength, either, over the course of his life. When August begins attending church regularly, Hattie thinks, “it was so typical of him to run into the arms of God when his heart was too weak for him to run into the arms of some woman” (236). August continues, as he always has, to do “what was easy” (243) and comfortable.

As a child, Bell felt keenly Hattie’s lack of affection and tenderness. Her mother was not only perpetually angry and unhappy but also a vengeful “force [that] would strike her down for her failings” (212). When Bell caught a glimpse of Hattie radiating happiness while walking with Lawrence, the sight confirmed her deep fear that Hattie loathed her children. It also strengthened Bell’s animosity toward her mother, because all Bell “ever saw at home was a miserable woman who heaped punishment on her children” (212).

As an adult, Bell cannot shake the abiding conviction that she is unlovable, “defective in some vital way” (212). Filled with self-loathing, she turns away from her family and pursues a self-destructive lifestyle. She moves to the ghetto, where she “cycled through men of varying fortunes” (187). Her accidental encounter with Lawrence affords her the opportunity to avenge her mother’s misplaced joyfulness. To Bell’s surprise, she feels the same joy with Lawrence that she long ago saw on her mother’s face. When Hattie discovers the affair, Bell despairs that she’s lost any chance of love from Hattie or Lawrence. She lives even more recklessly and hooks up with Walter who, although “mean as a rat […] was the perfect man for Bell because her spirit was already worn out” (187).

Bell anticipates dying from tuberculosis as a means of escape from her incorrigibly “defective” self. By rescuing Bell, Hattie shows her daughter a long-awaited sign of her love—a sign Bell desperately needs. They finally talk about their painful history, and Bell begins to understand that Hattie has always loved her children but expressed that love through strength, not tenderness. Although she realizes she does not share Hattie’s strength, Bell now knows her mother will give her the support she needs.

Floyd was born when Hattie was still deeply grieving the death of her twins. In his earliest memories of his mother, “she wore her night-gown all day and floated through the rooms of the house, pale and silent as an iceberg” (17). He received almost no attention or care from her, but he found comfort in her stillness. Even after he grows up and becomes a musician, there is still a quiet “understanding between him and his mother, and Hattie was the only person in the world with whom Floyd was serene” (17).

Floyd is not comfortable or serene with himself. He is “good-looking” with “wavy black hair” (16), and women find him irresistible. To his chagrin, he is attracted to men. His efforts to suppress his homosexuality crumble when Lafayette touches him and, for the first time, he lets himself be who he is. This frightens him, however, particularly after the community shuns Lafayette. Floyd reburies his desires, and in their place he feels cowardice and self-loathing.

Six has always considered himself frail compared to other boys, and even more so after an accident leaves him scarred and weakened. At age 13, a force “bent him double” (40) while in church, and he began speaking the Word of God. The parishioners declared him graced by God, but for him the experience was a wrenching, “violent surge he couldn’t control” (41). Two years later, a “fit” overcomes Six outside of church. He directs the violent force into battering another small boy whose delicateness he despises like his own. To avoid the consequences of his action, Six flees to the South, where he preaches at a tent revival. Again, the spirit comes upon him, and the people attribute to him the miracle of healing. Six doubts he is a healer but decides “[h]e would be what they wanted him to be” (72). In this respect, Six chooses to follow a path of fraudulence like Floyd, who presents himself as heterosexual to “be what they wanted him to be.” Both Six and Floyd consider themselves weak, and it’s for that very reason that they do “what was easy” (243), like August.

When she marries an affluent doctor, Alice leaves her poor childhood neighborhood to live in an elegant house. This socioeconomic “migration” alienates her from her mother, Hattie, and the rest of her family, but she does not assimilate comfortably into her husband’s upper-class family either. She is insecure in her role as a wealthy woman and intimidated by her very efficient maid, who “knew everything about the running of the house” (143). Lonely and anxious, Alice only finds security in her role as her brother’s caretaker. She is convinced Billups is broken from his childhood trauma, and she gains a sense of empowerment from her belief that she alone supports him. Billups asserts his independence, however, and also reveals that past traumas have wounded Alice more than him. This development compels Alice to admit, “I’ve tried to be so many things and I haven’t managed any of them” (157).

Because Franklin drinks and gambles to a fault, his wife left him after two years of marriage. He then joined the military, and in 1969 he is sent on a mission in Saigon to plant mines on a beach. Although Franklin still loves his wife and has just learned he has a daughter, he continues to drink too much, thereby destroying any chance of reconciliation. He knows “the kind of man” (184) he is, and he knows he won’t stop drinking. His father, August, “was too weak” to leave Hattie and so was her “ruin” (179). Franklin therefore considers it a show of strength to let his wife go and ruin himself instead.

Cassie is Hattie’s oldest daughter, but in 1980 she is living in her parents’ home along with her daughter. She suffers from a schizophrenia-like condition in which she hears voices that furnish her mind with “abhorrent” (220) thoughts and urges. As a child, Cassie loved to play the piano and demonstrated musical talent, but Hattie “said it wasn’t practical for a Negro girl to fill her head with music” (88). Cassie now expresses her musicality by singing her praises to God and, exhibiting an artistic disposition, trying “to find the beauty in things” (222). Perhaps it is because of her heightened sensitivity that Cassie is overwhelmed by the world.