Lesson 12: Fathers and Sons

 

 

“It seemed almost incidental he was African.” –Bessie Head

 

This quote found at the beginning of Part 1 of the novel reminds the reader that while the setting of this book has a lot of significance, it is not the true focus of the novel.  At its heart it is the story of a father and a son struggling to find themselves and each other. 
The following three scenes are adapted from Graceland by Chris Abani.  Each of them deals with the relationship between Elvis and his father, Sunday, in the first part of the novel.  As we enact each scene think about relationships between fathers and sons.  Would you say that this is a typical father son relationship?  Why or why not? 

 

Scene 1, adapted from page 5

 

Elvis is asleep on his cot when he is awakened by a loud knock.  Startled he gathers his lappa about him and rises.

 

Sunday: Elvis! Elvis! Wake up.  It’s past six in the morning and all your mates are out

    dere looking for work.

 

Elvis: What work, sir? I have a job.

 

Sunday: “Dancing is no job.  We all dance in de bar on Saturday.  Open dis bloody door!

 

Elvis opens the door and eyes his father.  He feels and overwhelming urge to punch his father.

 

Elvis: I’ll just wash, then go.

 

 

Scene 2, adapted from pages 128-131

 

Sunday is sitting on the front porch when Elvis walks up and sets a keg of palm wine at his feet.

 

Sunday: What is dis?

 

Elvis: A son can’t buy his father a drink?

 

Sunday: Since when?

 

Elvis fills his fathers empty glass and Sunday drinks.

 

Sunday: It is fresh

 

Elvis: I bought it straight from the tapper an hour ago.

 

Elvis lights a cigarette.

 

Sunday: Must you?

 

Elvis: I must.

 

They drink in silence sharing the cup between them. 

 

Sunday: What are you thinking about?

 

Elvis: Remember when you used to send me to the tapper’s to get fresh palm wine.          

          “Drink little man, otherwise you will sour our market” they would say.  At first I  

            felt quesy when they made me drink, but before long that first fresh sip of palm

            wine was the most enjoyable part of the errand.

 

They both laugh at the memory.

 

Sunday: Finish your drink.  I want your cup.  Dere was a time when you respected me 

              enough not to smoke in my presence.

 

Elvis: Feared.

 

Sunday: What?

 

Elvis: Feared, not respected.  I was afraid you would beat me.  I never really learned to   

          respect you.

 

Sunday: You think I can’t beat you now?

 

Elvis: Please, don’t start.

 

Sunday: “I cannot drink the wine of a man who does not respect me.

 

Elvis: Your loss.

 

Sunday: Why are you even here?

 

Elvis: I live here.

 

Sunday: No, I mean , why are you here, now, with me, de wine, why?

 

Elvis: Your wife asked me to speak to you.  To be a son to you.

 

Sunday (with hope in his voice): Your mother spoke to you?

Elvis: No. Comfort, your wife.

 

Sunday is silent.

 

           …She said she was afraid you were drinking yourself to death to be with my     

              mother.  Talk to me….Dad…

 

Sunday: Talk to you?  Talk to you?!  Who do you think you are?  Do you think you are a

man now, because you have begun to earn some money?  Do you think dat is

what being a man is?  Talk to you.  Why?  You never listen.  You have never listened.  All your life I have told you thinks dat will help you find your way in dis world and you did de exact opposite.  You don’t listen.  I have tried for you, Elvis.  But now I am tired.  Tired, you hear?!  I wash my hands of you, like Pilate.  Before I used to think it was your fault, dat you were just too hardheaded.  But now I don’t blame you.  Everything for us fell apart when your mother died.  I blame de death dat took her.  Talk to you?  How could you understand my pain?  My shame?  Do you think dis is who Sunday Oke is?  Wanted to be?  Do you think dis is how I planned my life?  Get out of here stupid, arrogant child.  De day I talk to you is de day death claims me.  Get lost! Go!

 

Elvis: I will go.  I will go…

 

 

 

Scene 3, adapted from pages 203-206

 

Sunday is asleep slumped over in his chair on the front porch.  Beside him the record player’s needle scratches over a record that finished long ago.  Elvis walks in, removes the needle, and wakes his father.

 

Sunday: What?

 

Elvis: Go inside and sleep.

 

Sunday: What time is it?

 

Elvis: Three am.

 

Sunday: Where have you been.

 

Elvis: Out….goodnight.

 

Sunday: Wait.  I have been waiting for you.

 

Elvis:  For me?  For what>

 

Sunday: Elvis, I need to talk to you.

 

Elvis: If it is about Godfrey, forget it.

 

Sunday: It’s not about Godfrey.  Sit down.  Benji gave me some disturbing news

yesterday.  He told me you have been hanging around with dat man dey call de        King of de Beggars.

 

Elvis: Yes, he is a friend of mine.

 

Sunday: What type of friend?  What would make a young, well-brought-up man like you

    associate with beggars?  De company one keeps tells a lot.

 

Elvis: What does your friendship with Benji tell?

 

Sunday: Elvis, I am still your father, respect me!  Look, Benji told me dat de King, or

   whoever he is, is a dangerous man.

 

Elvis: How would Benji know?

 

Sunday: Benji knows things.  Just listen.  Dey say dat de King was discharged from the

  army for crazy behavior.

 

Elvis: When?

 

Sunday: After de civil war.

 

Elvis: That was a long time ago.  He seems fine to me.

 

Sunday: But what kind of man begs for his living?

 

Elvis looks at his father.

 

                 I am unemployed, not a beggar!

 

Elvis: He’s just trying to do what he thinks is right.

 

Sunday: We all are.  I’ve always tried to do just dat.  I ran in de first free election in

   nearly twenty years, as you know.  Den dose army boys came back and toppled   

    de new civilian regime.  Of course, de good thing about dat was dat Okonkwo  

    never got to enjoy his victory.  It’s not because nobody tries but because de 

    reasons are complicated.  And your King, how is he fighting?  By begging?

 

Elvis: No.  He is a poet and a regular speaker at Freedom Square.  He is also an actor and

uses theater to fight the government.

 

Sunday: Maybe you should have run for office, not me.  But de point is, how will staging

plays defeat a military government?  Bigger men, like Wole Soyinka, have tried, but nothing changes.  If he cannot do it, how can a beggar?

 

Elvis: I don’t know.  I think everyone is just trying to find their way.

 

Sunday:  Are dey finding de way, dese people you speak of?

 

Elvis: I don’t know, but I do know some people are trying very hard and others are not.

 

Sunday: So?

 

Elvis: So they will eventually find a way.

 

Sunday: Who are dey dat you speak of?  Do you even know?

 

Elvis (shrugs): What?

 

Sunday:  Elvis, sometimes even good people use us.

 

Elvis:  Who is using us?

 

Sunday: I am saying dat dis King is using you.

 

Elvis: To do what?

 

Sunday: Who knows?  But Benji says all dis political agitation is a front, dat it is to help

him find and kill de officer dat killed his family during the war.  Dis is not for change, but revenge.

 

Elvis:  The King does good work and I support him.

 

Sunday:  Den you are a bigger fool dan I thought.  Don’t you know dat when de King is

next arrested you can be implicated by association?  Elvis, try and understand.  I am doing dis as your father, not as a stranger.  I am trying to help you.

 

Elvis: The way you helped Godfrey.

 

Sunday:  You have a bad mouth.  You get dat from your mother.  Dis is why I don’t talk

to you.  Every time I try, you shut me out with your rude comments.

 

Elvis:  I think you should go and sleep off your guilt instead of putting it on me.  It’s not

working.

 

Sunday:  Elvis….I…

 

Elvis: Goodnight.

 

Elvis bends down on impulse and kisses the top of his father’s head as he goes inside.  Sunday remains seated and runs his finger meditatively over the spot where his son had kissed him.