From Rememory to Forgetting

I loved the ending of Beloved. One of my favorite aspects is the small, rather poetic, epilogue that Toni Morrison includes. Without naming specific details or distinct references to the plot, this short series of passages at the end of the novel seamlessly, effectively, and succinctly ties the novel together and gives the story a solid conclusion and final message.

Here is a shortened version of the ending:

Everybody knew what she was called, but nobody anywhere knew her name. Disremembered and unaccounted for, she cannot be lost because no one is looking for her, and even if they were, how can they call her if they don’t know her name? Although she has claim, she is not claimed… 

It was not a story to pass on. 

They forgot her like a bad dream. After they made up their tales, shaped and decorated them, those that saw her that day on the porch quickly and deliberately forgot her. It took longer for those who had spoken to her, lived with her, fallen in love with her, to forget, until they realized they couldn’t remember or repeat a single thing she said, and began to believe that, other than what they themselves were thinking, she hadn’t said anything at all. So, in the end, they forgot her too. Remembering seemed unwise…

It was not a story to pass on.

So they forgot her. Like an unpleasant dream during a troubling sleep…

This is not a story to pass on.

Down by the stream in back of 124 her footprints come and go, come and go. They are so familiar. Should a child, an adult place his feet in them, they will fit. Take them out and they disappear again as though nobody ever walked there. By and by all trace is gone, and what is forgotten is not only the footprints but the water too and what it is down there. The rest is weather. Not the breath of the disremembered and unaccounted for, but wind in the eaves, or spring ice thawing too quickly. Just weather. Certainly no clamor for a kiss.

Beloved. (323-324)

The page-long epilogue focuses on an idea that opposes much of what is presented in the hundreds of pages before. In the rest of the novel, the focus is on Sethe’s struggle with her memory and rememory and the haunting of the past on her present. However, here, the idea of forgetting, and the ability to move on from the past, is introduced. For Sethe in particular, up until the end of the novel, she was revisiting, reliving, and internally replaying the past (for instance, on page 321 when Paul D and Sethe are together, she is still thinking about Beloved: “She left me… She was my best thing”). The concluding final chapter of this novel is succinct and brief, but incredibly powerful.

I feel that this theme of forgetting in the last section shows growth for all of the characters; they each go from the haunting in the rest of the book and having their past define their present to being in a place where they can, and “deliberately,” forget. The characters seem more empowered now and seem to be able to choose and better regulate their memories too, particularly when it comes to Sethe who continued to be haunted by her past (both in a metaphorical and literal way) all throughout the narrative. However, it also applies to the other characters in this novel, as the people of the local town community choose to forget Beloved and move on from what Sethe did years earlier, and Paul D also is also able to move on from the event that initially made him run away from 124 and the horrific trauma and “tobacco tin” created in his past as well.

The emphasis on the line “it was not a story to pass on,” also contrasts with the rest of the novel in that Sethe, it seemed, constantly wants someone to discuss her past stories with, share, and confess (or, in the case with Beloved, ask for forgiveness and understanding). She does not let go of the stories of her past, which inevitably lead to them being passed on. When Paul D arrives, for instance, she seemed relieved to have someone that understands her and who she can discuss Sweet Home with. Therefore, in this passage, it is unlike the story of Sethe in the shed that the novel is based around because people are not gossiping about this new story. In order to keep a memory and the past alive, stories have to be passed on, which is what happens with Sweet Home when Paul D and Sethe discuss and revisit it with “rememory,” and what happens when the town won’t let go of Sethe’s past actions. Rather, with this story about Beloved coming outside and disappearing, it will not be “passed on” by anyone in the town; the past will better remain in the past.

I also found it interesting that in this passage, Morrison does not name any of the characters specifically, just as Beloved was never called by her given name. It is even emphasized here that “nobody knew her name,” even though “everybody knew what she was called” (does the word “nobody” even include Sethe and her family as well?). Perhaps it is aimed to create the sense that the haunting of the past can be universal. Sethe, Paul D, and Denver are simply referred to as “those who had spoken to her.” Additionally, perhaps not making references to their names keeps the focus on Beloved and what she represents (an embodiment of Sethe’s past and the suppressed guilt that she feels). “Beloved” is the only character that is named in this chapter, and comes in at the very end, giving her title emphasis. The book revolves around her and the influence that she has on the characters and their dynamic, even more than the character’s actions alone in a way, as she is the reason that the characters confront their past and they don’t move on until she has come and gone.

(I find it also interesting that Beloved, a literal embodiment of the past, was needed in order for the characters to move on from the past event in the shed.)

Lastly, one of the paragraphs of this section that I loved reading in particular is:

Down by the stream in back of 124 her footprints come and go, come and go. They are so familiar. Should a child, an adult place his feet in them, they will fit. Take them out and they disappear again as though nobody ever walked there. By and by all trace is gone, and what is forgotten is not only the footprints but the water too and what it is down there. The rest is weather. Not the breath of the disremembered and unaccounted for, but wind in the eaves, or spring ice thawing too quickly. Just weather. Certainly no clamor for a kiss.

The idea of Beloved’s footprints coming and going, and them being “so familiar” and “fitting” everyone is super compelling. Perhaps it again illustrates the idea of the universality of the past coming back to the present, anywhere from “a child” to “an adult.” But it also could represent the idea that the past doesn't have to be gotten rid of, but the memories of the past don’t always have to haunt. People can remember, be reminded, and the past is not completely forgotten or gone. But it now has the ability to live in the present while also having been left behind and is able to disappear again. It will be there, and come back, but eventually it will leave again and won’t take over life (as Beloved did to Sethe before). Here, the supernatural elements of the book turn just into the plain weather. Real-life becomes more concrete, and the present stands alone as simply the present: not complicated and possessed as much by the past.

I’m so sorry, I’m not sure if this blog post makes any sense and my ideas are still pretty jumbled! But I really do enjoy thinking about this last chapter of the book and the final impression that the novel leaves on the readers. It is certainly a powerful and hopeful ending that both reflects on everything that the book has given us and turns it towards looking into the future. From being haunted by the past to learning how and being able to forget it, Morrison takes readers on an incredible journey that she seamlessly concludes in a single page at the end. We see growth in all characters by the end, who know and acknowledge the past but are able to move on. We end with a single word—Beloved—reminding us both of everything we read throughout the book, the hauntings, and the character’s past journeys, but also how it was what enabled our characters to look towards the future in the end.

(P.S. This is very unrelated, but another aspect that I found super interesting about the structure of Beloved is the progression in each section’s name, from “124 was spiteful,” to “124 was loud,” to “124 was quiet,” each representing the tone and developments in that section of the book—I, II, and III. That was so cool! Also, Denver is awesome!) (Thank you so much for reading my blog!)

Morrison, Toni. Beloved. Vintage Books, 2004.