Alice Walker, Author and Medium

    (What a lousy day I�ve had. I failed that quiz in English; I�m a week behind in Algebra�. All I want to do is sleep. Wait, I have that Psychology paper due tomorrow. I should stay up and do that. Nah�. Alice Walker and The Color Purple can wait. I�ll get up early tomorrow morning.) I set my alarm for 5:00am and became unconscious in seconds.  
    A piercing shriek shocked me from my slumber. My pillow was soaked, my body in fetal position. The sound of velvet words floated into the room, followed by a sharp command. The velvet came closer, and I began to uncurl in its presence. My eyes opened to a small, strong figure with her arms around me.  
    �It�s okay, my child. You�re with me now.�  
    Silence followed the sounds of empty tears and pitiful sighs that entered my thoughts. I tried to sort through my memory of what had occurred before the initial scream. The velvet came again, soothing my tears. She smiled, introducing herself as �A.W., author and medium.�  
    �What�s that supposed to mean?�  
    �Never mind, dear. You�re safe now, and that is what matters.� She had a point. The commanding tones had faded. (I�m going to have such a headache in the morning.)  
    I shook my head again in an attempt to clear the cobwebs of fear and confusion. �Who are you again?� I asked.  
    �Alice Walker, my dear- author and medium.�  
    �What� happened to me?�  
    �Nothing, Celie. You�ll be fine. Trust me.�  
    �My name�s not Celie� it�s�� I couldn�t remember my own name. �I� I� I�.�  
    �Shhh-shhhh. You�ll be fine.� I drew a quick breath as I heard the sharp voice returning.  
    �Alice, help!� The velvet floated away from me, and my avez peur seeped farther into my soul. Another scream ripped through my body.  I awoke with a start. My pillow was soaked. A velvet voice soothed my screams.  
    �I�m here now, Samantha. It�s okay.�  
    �Who are you?�  
    �Alice Walker, author and medium.� (Hey� maybe I should get a jump on my psychology paper�.)  
    �Alice? May I call you Alice?�  
    �By all means, dear, do.�  
    �Well, you see, I�m doing this psychology paper on The Color Purple, and I was wondering if you�d� well, no. Never mind.�  
    �What is it, Sam? May I call you Sam?�  
    �Sure.�  
    �What is it you want to know?�  
    �Well� why did you write it like you did?�  
    She smiled, and her teeth gleamed ever so slightly. �There�s many small things imbedded in that novel. Like human sexuality.� She winked, her chocolate eyes twinkling.  
    �Do you want to start with that, Alice?  
    �The novel does.�  
    (Take a deep breath, Sam. This is where this gets interesting.) �Why did you open the book with Celie�s account of her rape by Pa?�        
    �It draws the reader�s attention. There is a cultural obsession with sex that is violent and deviant. By using the rape in the beginning of the novel, I�ve easily captured the focus of the reader so that I may divert it to more important matters (Bloom 219).�  
    �I guess I still don�t understand. You still could have started with Celie being beaten by Pa. That would have captured the reader�s attention. Why use sex?�  
    �Starting the novel with sex allowed me to reverse the role of standard pornography. I was able to make a fairy tale stand on it�s head to my liking (Bloom 219).�  
    �Make a fairy tale stand on it�s head?�  
    �Yes. What�s characteristic of fairy tales?�  
    �That all depends upon the fairy tale.�  
    �True. Try �Sleeping Beauty.��  
    �Um� evil witch, little fairies, rescued by the prince?�  
    �Good. Now think about The Color Purple.�  
    �I don�t get it.�  
    �Well, who would be the prince?�  
    I had to think about that. There was no fair maiden, no Prince Charming. (When all else fails, guess blindly, right?) �Albert?�  
    �You�re catching on.�  
    �But Albert isn�t exactly Prince Charming.�  
    �Precisely. I allowed myself to take a fairy tale and subvert it.�  
    �Why would you do that?�  
    �Life isn�t like a fairy tale, Sam. You know that.�  
    �Yes, but why write it at all?�  
    �The novel, you mean?�  
    I nodded. �What was the intent?�  
    �I wanted to give a voice to those �who have been silenced in life and literature� (Bloom 66).�  
    �But who exactly is that?�  
    �In general, black women. However, I also wanted to give a voice to those who have beaten the odds.�  
    �What odds?�  
    �There are �so many people like Celie who make it, who came out of nothing. People who triumphed� against all odds. Those people needed a voice. I took on the task of giving them one (Bloom 67).� She stood, adjusting her drawstring slacks. �Would you like a cup of tea?�  
    �Please.� I stood, presuming the conversation was to proceed to the kitchen.  
    �You don�t need to get up. I�ll get the tea. Is Earl Grey all right?�  
    I sat back down. Her dreadlocks bounced gently as she walked into the kitchen. I heard water running and paper ripping as I glanced around at the sheer expansiveness of Alice�s home. The fireplace was crackling softly. I rose and made my way over to the hearth. I poked at the fire. It seemed to blend right in with the soft red and brown tones of the living room. I got the feeling she was a very earthy person. I put the fire poker back in its holder just as Alice returned with the tea.  
    �Oh, thank you, Sam. I had been meaning to tend to that myself.�  
    �Yeah, sure. No problem.�  
    Alice set the mugs down and took my hand. �It was problem enough for you to tend it for me. Thank you.�  
    �Thank you� for what?�  
    �You went to the trouble of turning over the firewood, and I thank you for your trouble.�  
    I couldn�t quite grasp what she was poking at. �You�re welcome.�  
    �Now, where were we?�  
    I consulted the notes I had taken. �The reversal of fairy tales... I suppose that applies to Celie and Shug�s relationship as well?�  
    �Yes, in part.�  
    �Which part would that be?�  
    �There is the obvious relationship itself, and also, they allow their desires to alter social structure. Desire does that. It won�t �conform to social prescription� (Bloom 217).�  
    �Which means what, exactly?�  
    �It means that the love Celie and Shug share changes the way things work at the house. It changes their little society. There are things in life that just don�t follow the preconceptions of society. Desire and love are two of those things.�  
    I nodded. �What other deliberate reversals are there in the book?�  
    Alice had to stop and think about that for a while. I felt as if I had asked an inappropriate question and had made her feel uncomfortable. But, deed already done, I sipped my tea and awaited her response.  
    �Two more come to mind. Albert and Shug�s affair contradicts the sanctity of his and Celie�s wedding vows; and Shug�s affairs with many men reverses the common thought of monogamy.�  
    �Why did you deliberately alter so many things? Were you trying to upset people?�  
    �No. I just wanted people to see that life doesn�t come with an instruction manual. There is no �right� or �wrong� way to write a book. Or to be in love.�  
    �Are there any other things to show that point? I mean, Shug seems to be about as out of Life�s Manual as one can get. And what does �Shug� mean, anyway?�  
    Alice chuckled softly. �Shug is short for Sugar. And the woman, like the substance, provides excitement without true nourishment (Bloom 217).� (Wow. I would never have made that connection. I wonder if she�d melt in the rain.)  
    �What other characters are representative?�  
    She sipped her tea. �Celie is based upon my grandmother.�  
    �You mean all those awful things really happened to her?�  
    �Not precisely. She was raped at the age of twelve by her slave owner, my grandfather. But she never overcame her life.�  
    �So Celie is a sort of vicarious figure from your grandmother�s life?�  
    �You could say so. It�s not precise, again, but it is close. I made sure Celie became content with her life. �I liberated her from her own past. I wanted her to be happy� (Bloom 67).�  
    �What about you? Are you happy?�  
    Alice smiled. �Yes. �I�m as happy now as I was sad as a child� (Whitaker 5). I love life. I love to write. Writing has been a life-changing experience. The Color Purple has been a large part of that.�  
    I could hear a faint ringing sound in the far corners of the house. (I wonder what that is�?) I looked around, trying to identify the direction of the sound. Alice looked in the same direction, but I noticed that only one eye seemed to focus. �Alice, may I ask a stupid question?�
    �There are no stupid questions, my dear.�  
    �Well, then may I ask a slightly inappropriate one? You don�t have to answer it if you don�t want to.�  
    �What would you like to know?�  
    �What�s wrong with your eye?�      
    A maternal look spread across her face. �When I was eight, my brothers and I were playing Cowboys and Indian. I had my bow and arrow; they had their BB guns. One of them shot at me, and the pellet hit me directly in the eye. They scar tissue was removed, but I cannot see out of that eye (Jackson 2).�  
    I heard the ringing again, louder this time, followed by that same sharp command.  
    �Samantha? Sam! Get up! You�re going to be late for school!� (Mom?)  
    �Alice? Just one more quick question.�
    �Yes?�  
    �If you had to sum up the message of The Color Purple in one statement, what would it be?�  
    She pondered the question for but a second. ��Each person [needs] to struggle against unjust oppression� be it in the home, or the community, or in society (Bloom 69). Good luck on your paper, Samantha.�  
    �Samantha Marie! Get up this instant.�  
    �Yes, Mother.�  
    �Don�t you have a psychology paper due today?�  
    �Yes.�  
    �Well, where is it?�
    �I haven�t�.� I noticed a piece paper sitting on my desk. �What that over there?� My mother handed it to me. I read the title page aloud: �Alice Walker: Author and Medium, by Samantha.� (But I never wrote the�I was dreaming�wasn�t I?) Then I noticed something I hadn�t seen at first. One the next page was a Post-it note that read:  
    �Sam- I thought you would appreciate the extra sleep. In peace, A.W.�

Works Cited

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