Key reasons for Ann's fear
Posted August 4, 2011 at Teachnology
There seem to be two key reasons for Ann’s fear of Loomis:
1) She is afraid from the start that a man could control her. That is, she's afraid of being raped. But she may also be sexually repressed, or afraid of sex in general.
2) She is afraid Loomis is a cruel murderer because he killed Edward.
1) She is afraid from the start that a man could control her. That is, she's afraid of being raped. But she may also be sexually repressed, or afraid of sex in general.
2) She is afraid Loomis is a cruel murderer because he killed Edward.
Evidence Ann is an unreliable narrator (Intro)
Posted August 5, 2011 at Teachnology
There is a lot of evidence Ann is an unreliable or fallible narrator.
To begin with, it is suggested by the context--the situation that Ann and Loomis are the last two people in the last habitable valley, which makes their cooperation necessary to give humanity a last chance at survival. Their society of two in Burden Valley is a microcosm of the societies in the world, which need to cooperate in order for humanity (and many other species) to survive. The valley should be thought of as "the world," as Loomis says, and its name suggests the burden it carries of supporting the last life on Earth.
If we think the story is JUST about a personal conflict, then the war in the background becomes virtually meaningless--just a means to create inane suspense. If we think war is significant to the theme but Loomis is just a villain, then the conflict both in the background and between the two characters is reduced to a simplistic struggle of "good" against "evil." But the text shows that both Ann and Loomis are complex characters, and Loomis often appears more sensible than Ann. Finally, if we think Ann is right to leave the valley, we must ignore overwhelming evidence that there's no life elsewhere, and we must place our trust in Ann's feverish dreams and Loomis's one-time possible sighting of birds. This is not sensible.
The only interpretation that consistently fits the evidence of the story is that Ann and Loomis are the last two humans, Loomis is understandable (NOT a villain), and the main problem is that they fail to understand and help one another. The main cause of conflict is poor communication, for which Ann is at least equally at fault. Ann fails to communicate clearly because of her irrational fear of being controlled by a man, which is worsened by faulty reasoning and self-deception. The cause of Loomis's poor communication is harder to judge precisely, but it is probably a combination of a presumption of authority, single-minded practical thinking, and the desire for companionship. In any event, Ann is definitely a fallible narrator.
Ann's leaving the valley at the end is a victory of fear and individualism over trust and companionship. It is the triumph of wish-fulfilling illusions over the realities of an imperfect world where people must accept difficult human relationships and compromised desires. It is also the triumph of petty self-righteousness over sympathy and forgiveness.
When this story is taught, students should be provided with sufficient background material on the possible effects of nuclear weapons and nerve gas in a world war. They should be discouraged from indulging wish-fulfilling fantasies that there are other survivors outside Burden Valley and other "worlds" Ann can escape to. It should be made clear that such views are entirely irrational, impractical, and unsupported by the text. They also negate the whole meaning of the story.
In addition to being implied by the story's setting, the problem of conflict and the importance of human companionship are also suggested by literary allusions such as the following:
1) Edna St. Vincent Millay's "Epitaph for the Race of Man":
"...Man was weak / Before the unkindness in his brother's eyes" (Sonnet XIV)
"You shall achieve destruction where you stand / In intimate conflict, at your brother's hand"
(Sonnet XV).
"Would he had searched his closet for his bane, / ... Obsequious Greed" (XVI).
2) Gray's "Elegy":
"He gained from Heaven ('twas all he wish'd) a friend."
3) Ecclesiastes:
"Better two than one alone..." (Eccles. 4:7-12).
"No one on Earth is sufficiently upright to do good without ever sinning" (Eccles. 7:20).
"From too much worrying comes illusion..." (Eccles. 5:12).
4) Austen's Pride and Prejudice:
"It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife."
The plots of the two stories are analogous and contrast in a way that is suggestive of Ann's error. Each protagonist is prejudiced against a man who tries to be her partner. But whereas Elizabeth Bennett discovers her misunderstanding and marries Mr. Darcy, Ann Burden becomes increasingly prejudiced and ends up alone in a nuclear desert.
The story's setting, literary allusions, and symbols all suggest that Ann is an unreliable narrator. (For more explanation of allusions and symbols, see Posts 175-177 & 192-193 above.) Above all, Ann seems unreliable because of specific thoughts and actions that show mistakes in her reasoning and judgment:
1) She fears Loomis before having any good reason to do so.
2) Her fear is extreme in itself.
3) Her fear often increases or decreases because of feelings, not in response to real circumstances.
4) When Ann's fear is a response to Loomis's words or behavior, she often overreacts.
5) Ann fears Loomis later for exactly the same reason she feared him at first without cause, suggesting the influence of a preexisting fear on her understanding of him.
6) Her fears make her ignore her own reasonable judgments, leading to logical inconsistency and apparent self-deception.
7) She sometimes questions her own fear-based judgments.
8) Some of her general ideas are incorrect or illogical.
9) Ann is repeatedly dishonest with herself and Loomis.
10) She exhibits a tendency to delude herelf, or to believe what she wishes to be true.
I'll try to discuss each of these points below in some detail.
1) Ann fears Loomis without any evidence he is a threat.
In the beginning, Ann's fear is based only on an imagined or potential threat rather than a real danger. As Loomis approaches and enters the valley, Ann fears that he might be “crazy,” “brutal,” “A murderer” (6), and that, because he is “bigger and stronger,” he could control her completely: “He can do whatever he likes, and I will be a slave for the rest of my life” (36). Though she has no reason yet to view Loomis in particular as a threat, she hides in a cave, resists the urge to run to him, and lets him swim in a radioactive stream. None of this behavior is sensible.
Ann does NOT have any good reason for thinking Loomis is even a POTENTIAL threat. Her fear is based on imagining the possible characteristics and behavior of people in general. In this sense, Loomis is only a potential threat in the same way that anyone is, and the only way to be safe from such potential threats is to stay away from all people. Of course, Ann completely fails to realize that she shares the common flaws of humanity, and thus she can equally be a threat to someone else.
2) Ann’s particular fear is extreme in itself. It is unreasonable to believe a man will want to enslave her
because there's no society to stop him.
A. Morality depends mainly on character, not social control:
[B]It is very cynical to assume men lose all morality in the absence of social authority, or that they generally have a latent overriding desire to enslave women if they have the chance. In fact, people's behavior in most situations depends mainly on the CHARACTER of the person in question. Since most people are fair-minded rather than sociopathic, the chances must be far greater that Ann will meet a
normally reasonable person.
Exceptions: Acting out of Hatred or in Self-defense:
The commenter Anne lists examples of wartime atrocities to argue that the protagonist’s fear is reasonable. But these examples all relate to conventional warfare in which soldiers and civilians are both involved, and where people in opposing groups are full of hatred for one another in the midst of conflict. Such examples are IRRELEVANT IN ANN’S SITUATION in the aftermath of a nuclear war because there are no invading armies careless of the rights of enemy civilians. Ann's only fear is that a lone man will be more inclined to be cruel when not restrained by "civilized" society (i.e., the same "civilized" society that just destroyed the world).
Ordinary people can also be driven to kill when they are faced with a direct threat and must kill in order to survive. This was Loomis's situation when he killed Edward, since taking the safe-suit was a direct threat to his life. Loomis could only be sure of his own survival as long as the suit was available to him. Ann recognizes this (126-127). The commenter Anne's claim that taking the suit was "ONLY a potential threat" is incorrect. In contrast, when Ann allows Loomis to swim in the poisoned stream rather than risk her own safety, he has not threatened her directly in any way.
Contradictorily, the commenter Anne also claims that the protagonist is justified in hiding and letting Loomis be poisoned because he is a "potential threat" (Post 142). Thus, she uses the possibility of a threat on one hand to take away Loomis's right to self-defense and on the other hand to give that right to Ann--even though Loomis was directly threatened and Ann is not threatened at all!!
B. It is more likely another lone survivor will, like Ann, want companionship:
Also, Ann only thinks of negative effects that social collapse could have on a man’s outlook. She does not consider that another lone survivor will probably be as lonely as she is and yearn for companionship rather than a resentful female slave. During the past year, Ann has often hoped someone would come who could be her companion (36). However, when she sees Loomis's approach, paranoia sets in. [B]Ann’s extreme fear should also be understood as the result of being self-centered rather than sympathetic (i.e., "putting herself in someone else's shoes"). Too often, Ann thinks of Loomis as a dangerous unknown, instead of imagining he has understandable or pitiable feelings like her own. One of the most important exercises for students is to examine all instances when Ann is uncertain about Loomis’s character and evaluate objectively whether she is sympathetic and fair-minded enough.
3) We see that Ann’s fear of Loomis often diminishes or increases according to her feelings of the moment, NOT in reaction to the removal or presence of a real threat.
This is another sign that her fear is based on her imaginings. For example, her fear of being enslaved diminishes when Loomis becomes severely ill with radiation sickness and Ann becomes afraid that he will die, leaving her alone forever. In other words, her fear of loneliness becomes greater than her fear the stranger might enslave her, so she helps him. Ann’s attitude about Loomis at this stage is entirely determined by the interplay of her own feelings, NOT by anything Loomis does that shows his good character.
After she returns to her house and starts helping Loomis when he is sick, Ann also notices the “strange” development that she actually becomes LESS worried when Loomis becomes MORE so: “A strange thing occurred. Though we had both known the fever was coming, and I had dreaded it more than he had (or more than he had seemed to), now that it was there, and he was visibly distressed, my own fear seemed to vanish. I felt calm—almost as if I were the older one. It was as if when he got weaker, I got s`tronger” (100). This change in her feelings probably results from Ann feeling LESS threatened by Loomis the weaker and more afraid he seems. It seems that, because of her extreme fear of men, she can only feel really relaxed and comfortable with a man when he is weak, fearful, and dependent on her support. Thus, she only dares to hold his hand to give him comfort when he is unconscious and close to death.
Correspondingly, when Loomis gains strength, struggles independently to walk again, and begins asserting his views about farming, Ann becomes increasingly uneasy. When HE initiates hand-holding (apparently to ask her feelings about him), Ann is so nervous that she stumbles and hits him in the face. Then afterwards she writes fearfully in her diary that the WAY he held her hand was “not the same at all” as her way of doing it. He was possessive: “I could tell that he was taking charge” (161).
Ann’s views here about Loomis’s intentions are highly suspect, being based entirely on her feelings of
unease. The main difference between the two instances of hand-holding is that Loomis was UNCONSCIOUS the first time, so he couldn’t express himself or respond to her at all. Ann could imagine whatever she wished about their relationship while holding his hand and did not have to really interact with him at all. But the second time they held hands, he was looking in her eyes and asking her a direct question, requiring her to express her feelings openly and risk a response from him she could not control. How terrifying to face a real relationship with a man rather than just an imaginary one—shared only with her diary!
4) When Ann’s fear is a response to Loomis’s actual behavior, it often seems an overreaction.
After returning to her house and living there with Loomis several days, Ann plays the piano for him one night, and he says afterwards, ”Thank you...This is the best evening I ever spent” (74). When Ann then questions his meaning, “Ever? You mean since the war,” Loomis sounds angry in his reply, “You heard me...I said ‘ever’ “ (74). A little afterwards, thinking about Mr. Loomis getting angry, Ann wishes she were “back in the cave again” (75). Hang on. Loomis sounds a little annoyed when Ann asks a stupid question, so she wants to go hide in a cave? It’s practically comical. (By the way, Ann doesn’t know yet that Loomis killed Edward, since he has only spoken of Edward once during delirium and later had a brief wild look when Ann mentioned it.)
If readers think much about this exchange, Ann’s question seems not only foolish but perhaps even rude. From Loomis’s explanations to Ann, we know that his life since the war has been a hellish nightmare. If we just imagine the dead cities and countryside he has explored for months, believing himself the last person alive, it is easy to guess how horrible the past year has been for him. So it would be utterly vacuous for him to say that their evening together is the best he has had since the war. It would be like a Nazi death camp survivor eating his first good meal after his release and saying, “This is the best meal I’ve had since my imprisonment ended” (NOT "the best meal ever"). Pretty inane? It would probably only make sense to say such a thing sarcastically, implying that the food is in fact only good at all when compared with prison fare. So Ann’s question could seem to imply that Loomis either made a ridiculously inane statement or was being sarcastic, meaning that his evening with Ann is only “the best” relative to his horrific experiences since a nuclear war.
In fact, Ann’s absurd question is best understood as A TACTIC FOR AVOIDING A DIRECT RESPONSE TO LOOMIS'S FEELINGS, such as by thanking him for his compliment and telling him that she enjoys his company also. His compliment expresses liking for her, and she SHOULD respond by saying something nice about him as well if she likes him (which her diary shows she does). But Ann often seems uncomfortable expressing her feelings openly. She is too fearful, preferring perhaps the safety of just
writing feelings in her diary, imagining possibilities, and reading fiction.
Similarly, when Loomis later holds her hand and asks seriously why she wanted to know if he’d ever been married, Ann again avoids expressing her real thoughts or feelings. She lies to avoid a real conversation that might bring them closer or at least make clearer exactly what their relationship is.
On these occasions, Ann seems to overreact to a compliment and a direct question from Loomis because she becomes nervous and feels the need to be evasive to protect herself. She protects herself by stopping conversation and withdrawing from Loomis, which prevents them from understanding one another better and getting closer.
Another possibility is that Ann's response to Loomis's compliment is coy. That is, she pretends not to understand his obvious meaning in order to get him to repeat the compliment and add to it (much like some vain, manipulative woman in Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice)? Personally, I think she is just
afraid of starting a real relationship, but she could be acting coy. It’s possible because the very next day, while she is gathering greens in a field, she imagines marrying Loomis within a year. But she thinks Loomis has “not indicated the slightest interest in any such idea” (81). So perhaps she is hoping he will show more interest in her and she sometimes tries to encourage him to. Of course, this is only speculation. We cannot know exactly why Ann answered Loomis evasively as she did.
In any case, it seems clear Loomis probably feels annoyed precisely because he guesses that Ann intentionally misunderstands him for her own reasons, whatever those reasons are. His annoyance about her behavior might also be similar to the attitude of Darcy in Pride and Prejudice, who has little patience with dishonesty or mind games: “there is meanness in all the arts which ladies sometimes
employ for captivation. Whatever bears affinity to cunning is despicable” (Austen 85).
(Austen, Jane. Pride and Prejudice. London: Penguin, 1985. 85).
Evidence Ann is an unreliable narrator (4-B)
Some other examples of Ann’s overreaction to Loomis’s behavior include the following: her worries that he is a murderer because of killing Edward; her fear that he is trying to control her like a slave because he tells her things that she should do on the farm; her fear that he is trying to control her when he holds her hand; and, I think, her flight to a cave hideout when he tries to sleep with her. But I’ll try to discuss these incidents separately later.
Ann also seems melodramatic when she worries sometimes that it’s the beginning of the end although the situation doesn’t justify such a fatalistic attitude at all. The first time this happens is when she sees a column of smoke approaching. It could be a rescue party. It could be the man she has hoped might be a companion, helpmate, and father to her children (36). It could even be another woman. But she writes
in her diary, “I feel as if it is the beginning of the end” (14). It might also seem ironic that she then notes, “I must make up my mind what to do” (14). It is ironic IF the reader realizes (unlike Ann) that her decision and actions will greatly determine whether Loomis’s arrival IS “the end” or not. Ann’s decision to hide and not even reveal herself to warn him about the contaminated stream nearly causes the end of her hopes for companionship right then, as well as the end of humanity.
Later, Ann becomes fatalistic again when she and Loomis try to go fishing but he starts to suffer from anemia and has to go back to the house. Ann then goes fishing alone, feeling “nervous and disappointed” (87). Though she hopes he will recover and be able to do things again, she writes, “Still, I felt as if it was the beginning of the end” (87). However, she right away corrects herself: “—no, not the end, but of a bad time, and all my plans of this morning seemed thoughtless and foolish” (87). Hang on. In the morning, she was hoping to marry Loomis in a year and, in ten years, have children old enough to gather greens with her. If he will be sick for a month, why should those plans suddenly seem foolish? And why is her first feeling fatalistic again?
She still tries to prepare a “romantic” dinner (88), so her romantic feelings about Loomis don’t seem to have changed. Maybe she’s just afraid he’ll die? But it’s just the start of his illness, not the point when he’s unconscious with barely any pulse. A little later, when Loomis becomes “visibly distressed,” Ann notices, “my own fear seemed to vanish” (100). She writes, “It was as if when he got weaker, I got stronger” (100). So Ann writes that she feels it is “the beginning of the end” even though she doesn’t REALLY feel this way, as shown by the fact she modifies that statement right away, and then she actually feels LESS worried when Loomis’s fear increases.
Clearly, Ann appears to have a tendency to exaggerate her fears, overreact emotionally to a situation, or be melodramatic. She also seems to recognize this tendency to some extent, such as when she writes of Loomis’s calm, matter-of-fact attitude towards possibly dying. She admits, “I think I would have been hysterical” (52). Unfortunately, she does not question her own feelings enough or recognize how much they really influence her thoughts.
5) We see that when Ann becomes afraid of Loomis later, she fears him for EXACTLY the same reasons that she was afraid of him in the beginning based only on her imaginings.
Sure, it could just be an unfortunate coincidence that Ann fears a sociopath would come to her valley and try to enslave her, and then this is EXACTLY what happens. The commenter Anne assumes that the story has obviously been designed as a simple conflict between good and evil, and, therefore, we should not try to understand Loomis like a normal person. He is just an extreme type of character created for the purpose of the story’s dualistic conflict. It’s not supposed to be realistic because “this is not real life, this is a book” (Post 132).
This kind of argument is irrational and an insult to O’Brien’s writing. The commenter just assumes HER interpretation is correct regardless of any textual evidence because she believes the author designed the story with the meaning she wants. It is also a hypocritical argument, since Anne bases many of her views about the story on HER assumptions about what is realistic, then accepts Loomis as just an unrealistic stereotype when it suits her interpretation, saying realism isn’t required in a story! So realism is only what the commenter says it is, and realism doesn’t matter when she doesn’t wish it to (presumably also when the protagonist leaves what seems the last habitable place hoping to find
children she saw in a dream?).
On the contrary, good stories ARE supposed to be realistic, portraying believable situations, characters, and relationships, and encouraging readers to think about issues that can be relevant to the way we live. It defeats the purpose of fiction, or of any literary analysis, to think that a story is the way it is simply because the author decided to make it that way, and characters are just stereotypes that don’t have to be realistic. In a simple adventure story or bad fiction with flat characters, that may be partly true. But O’Brien did not write this way in Z for Zachariah.
If the author had meant the story to be simple, wouldn't there be clearer evidence of Loomis's nefarious character from the beginning? He could have entered the valley carrying his carbine in a
threatening way, for instance; and he could have entered Ann's house by kicking the door open while holding his gun ready. The killing of Edward could have been portrayed clearly as murder. For example, Loomis could have shot him without any justification, and his attitude in his dreams could have been
exultant instead of horrified. What if Edward had wanted to use the suit to contact survivors in another military shelter instead of in a wild and desperate search for his family? And why would the author have crafted the story to make Ann partly responsible for Loomis's poisoning to the extent that she at least TWICE regrets her failure to warn him? Surely, it wouldn't have been too hard to free Ann from all guilt by arranging events a little differently. For example, she could have tried to call out but been too far away. Or she could have been eating at her cave when he went for a swim. Or, while taking radiation readings, he could have been startled by an animal and stumbled into the stream. Etc.
If Loomis seems a flat character, it is only because readers like Anne do not try hard enough to understand him, preferring to view him superficially as a type of villain. The limitations of the first-person narrator OBLIGE readers to TRY to fill in the blanks in their understanding of Loomis. And if we examine objectively his behavior throughout the story, he is clearly a complicated character, not a crazy sociopath. The commenter Anne even seems to recognize this to some extent when she says, “I think the novel portrays them both as human beings. They both make mistakes in moments of enthusiasm” (Post 150). However, she only says this, of course, to disagree that Loomis is at all more sensible than Ann, responding to my claim, “All the instructions [Loomis] gives her are sensible and practical, and they sometimes show how foolish and shortsighted she is by comparison” (Post 28).
If we are trying to think realistically about the situation in the story, we should recognize that the chances of a sociopath being the only other survivor after the war are very small. The chances seem even smaller that a Cornell-educated scientist such as Loomis could be such a person, and the more we look at his behavior (especially before his sickness), the less crazy he seems.
If readers are at all open-minded and critical, they should accept the possibility that Ann’s preexisting fears influence her ideas about Loomis and help to bring about what happens: a situation very like what she dreads from the beginning. This is much more believable than the view that, by an amazing and ironic coincidence, Loomis becomes exactly the sort of monster Ann fears meeting, and her fears at the start were actually miraculous premonitions. Similarly, towards the end of the story, when Ann dreams of another valley with children in it waiting for her to teach them, she is probably NOT having true visions. Rather, it is ONLY realistic to believe that the dreams are wish-fulfilling fantasies, and she is AGAIN letting her feelings influence her views of reality.
To begin with, it is suggested by the context--the situation that Ann and Loomis are the last two people in the last habitable valley, which makes their cooperation necessary to give humanity a last chance at survival. Their society of two in Burden Valley is a microcosm of the societies in the world, which need to cooperate in order for humanity (and many other species) to survive. The valley should be thought of as "the world," as Loomis says, and its name suggests the burden it carries of supporting the last life on Earth.
If we think the story is JUST about a personal conflict, then the war in the background becomes virtually meaningless--just a means to create inane suspense. If we think war is significant to the theme but Loomis is just a villain, then the conflict both in the background and between the two characters is reduced to a simplistic struggle of "good" against "evil." But the text shows that both Ann and Loomis are complex characters, and Loomis often appears more sensible than Ann. Finally, if we think Ann is right to leave the valley, we must ignore overwhelming evidence that there's no life elsewhere, and we must place our trust in Ann's feverish dreams and Loomis's one-time possible sighting of birds. This is not sensible.
The only interpretation that consistently fits the evidence of the story is that Ann and Loomis are the last two humans, Loomis is understandable (NOT a villain), and the main problem is that they fail to understand and help one another. The main cause of conflict is poor communication, for which Ann is at least equally at fault. Ann fails to communicate clearly because of her irrational fear of being controlled by a man, which is worsened by faulty reasoning and self-deception. The cause of Loomis's poor communication is harder to judge precisely, but it is probably a combination of a presumption of authority, single-minded practical thinking, and the desire for companionship. In any event, Ann is definitely a fallible narrator.
Ann's leaving the valley at the end is a victory of fear and individualism over trust and companionship. It is the triumph of wish-fulfilling illusions over the realities of an imperfect world where people must accept difficult human relationships and compromised desires. It is also the triumph of petty self-righteousness over sympathy and forgiveness.
When this story is taught, students should be provided with sufficient background material on the possible effects of nuclear weapons and nerve gas in a world war. They should be discouraged from indulging wish-fulfilling fantasies that there are other survivors outside Burden Valley and other "worlds" Ann can escape to. It should be made clear that such views are entirely irrational, impractical, and unsupported by the text. They also negate the whole meaning of the story.
In addition to being implied by the story's setting, the problem of conflict and the importance of human companionship are also suggested by literary allusions such as the following:
1) Edna St. Vincent Millay's "Epitaph for the Race of Man":
"...Man was weak / Before the unkindness in his brother's eyes" (Sonnet XIV)
"You shall achieve destruction where you stand / In intimate conflict, at your brother's hand"
(Sonnet XV).
"Would he had searched his closet for his bane, / ... Obsequious Greed" (XVI).
2) Gray's "Elegy":
"He gained from Heaven ('twas all he wish'd) a friend."
3) Ecclesiastes:
"Better two than one alone..." (Eccles. 4:7-12).
"No one on Earth is sufficiently upright to do good without ever sinning" (Eccles. 7:20).
"From too much worrying comes illusion..." (Eccles. 5:12).
4) Austen's Pride and Prejudice:
"It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife."
The plots of the two stories are analogous and contrast in a way that is suggestive of Ann's error. Each protagonist is prejudiced against a man who tries to be her partner. But whereas Elizabeth Bennett discovers her misunderstanding and marries Mr. Darcy, Ann Burden becomes increasingly prejudiced and ends up alone in a nuclear desert.
The story's setting, literary allusions, and symbols all suggest that Ann is an unreliable narrator. (For more explanation of allusions and symbols, see Posts 175-177 & 192-193 above.) Above all, Ann seems unreliable because of specific thoughts and actions that show mistakes in her reasoning and judgment:
1) She fears Loomis before having any good reason to do so.
2) Her fear is extreme in itself.
3) Her fear often increases or decreases because of feelings, not in response to real circumstances.
4) When Ann's fear is a response to Loomis's words or behavior, she often overreacts.
5) Ann fears Loomis later for exactly the same reason she feared him at first without cause, suggesting the influence of a preexisting fear on her understanding of him.
6) Her fears make her ignore her own reasonable judgments, leading to logical inconsistency and apparent self-deception.
7) She sometimes questions her own fear-based judgments.
8) Some of her general ideas are incorrect or illogical.
9) Ann is repeatedly dishonest with herself and Loomis.
10) She exhibits a tendency to delude herelf, or to believe what she wishes to be true.
I'll try to discuss each of these points below in some detail.
1) Ann fears Loomis without any evidence he is a threat.
In the beginning, Ann's fear is based only on an imagined or potential threat rather than a real danger. As Loomis approaches and enters the valley, Ann fears that he might be “crazy,” “brutal,” “A murderer” (6), and that, because he is “bigger and stronger,” he could control her completely: “He can do whatever he likes, and I will be a slave for the rest of my life” (36). Though she has no reason yet to view Loomis in particular as a threat, she hides in a cave, resists the urge to run to him, and lets him swim in a radioactive stream. None of this behavior is sensible.
Ann does NOT have any good reason for thinking Loomis is even a POTENTIAL threat. Her fear is based on imagining the possible characteristics and behavior of people in general. In this sense, Loomis is only a potential threat in the same way that anyone is, and the only way to be safe from such potential threats is to stay away from all people. Of course, Ann completely fails to realize that she shares the common flaws of humanity, and thus she can equally be a threat to someone else.
2) Ann’s particular fear is extreme in itself. It is unreasonable to believe a man will want to enslave her
because there's no society to stop him.
A. Morality depends mainly on character, not social control:
[B]It is very cynical to assume men lose all morality in the absence of social authority, or that they generally have a latent overriding desire to enslave women if they have the chance. In fact, people's behavior in most situations depends mainly on the CHARACTER of the person in question. Since most people are fair-minded rather than sociopathic, the chances must be far greater that Ann will meet a
normally reasonable person.
Exceptions: Acting out of Hatred or in Self-defense:
The commenter Anne lists examples of wartime atrocities to argue that the protagonist’s fear is reasonable. But these examples all relate to conventional warfare in which soldiers and civilians are both involved, and where people in opposing groups are full of hatred for one another in the midst of conflict. Such examples are IRRELEVANT IN ANN’S SITUATION in the aftermath of a nuclear war because there are no invading armies careless of the rights of enemy civilians. Ann's only fear is that a lone man will be more inclined to be cruel when not restrained by "civilized" society (i.e., the same "civilized" society that just destroyed the world).
Ordinary people can also be driven to kill when they are faced with a direct threat and must kill in order to survive. This was Loomis's situation when he killed Edward, since taking the safe-suit was a direct threat to his life. Loomis could only be sure of his own survival as long as the suit was available to him. Ann recognizes this (126-127). The commenter Anne's claim that taking the suit was "ONLY a potential threat" is incorrect. In contrast, when Ann allows Loomis to swim in the poisoned stream rather than risk her own safety, he has not threatened her directly in any way.
Contradictorily, the commenter Anne also claims that the protagonist is justified in hiding and letting Loomis be poisoned because he is a "potential threat" (Post 142). Thus, she uses the possibility of a threat on one hand to take away Loomis's right to self-defense and on the other hand to give that right to Ann--even though Loomis was directly threatened and Ann is not threatened at all!!
B. It is more likely another lone survivor will, like Ann, want companionship:
Also, Ann only thinks of negative effects that social collapse could have on a man’s outlook. She does not consider that another lone survivor will probably be as lonely as she is and yearn for companionship rather than a resentful female slave. During the past year, Ann has often hoped someone would come who could be her companion (36). However, when she sees Loomis's approach, paranoia sets in. [B]Ann’s extreme fear should also be understood as the result of being self-centered rather than sympathetic (i.e., "putting herself in someone else's shoes"). Too often, Ann thinks of Loomis as a dangerous unknown, instead of imagining he has understandable or pitiable feelings like her own. One of the most important exercises for students is to examine all instances when Ann is uncertain about Loomis’s character and evaluate objectively whether she is sympathetic and fair-minded enough.
3) We see that Ann’s fear of Loomis often diminishes or increases according to her feelings of the moment, NOT in reaction to the removal or presence of a real threat.
This is another sign that her fear is based on her imaginings. For example, her fear of being enslaved diminishes when Loomis becomes severely ill with radiation sickness and Ann becomes afraid that he will die, leaving her alone forever. In other words, her fear of loneliness becomes greater than her fear the stranger might enslave her, so she helps him. Ann’s attitude about Loomis at this stage is entirely determined by the interplay of her own feelings, NOT by anything Loomis does that shows his good character.
After she returns to her house and starts helping Loomis when he is sick, Ann also notices the “strange” development that she actually becomes LESS worried when Loomis becomes MORE so: “A strange thing occurred. Though we had both known the fever was coming, and I had dreaded it more than he had (or more than he had seemed to), now that it was there, and he was visibly distressed, my own fear seemed to vanish. I felt calm—almost as if I were the older one. It was as if when he got weaker, I got s`tronger” (100). This change in her feelings probably results from Ann feeling LESS threatened by Loomis the weaker and more afraid he seems. It seems that, because of her extreme fear of men, she can only feel really relaxed and comfortable with a man when he is weak, fearful, and dependent on her support. Thus, she only dares to hold his hand to give him comfort when he is unconscious and close to death.
Correspondingly, when Loomis gains strength, struggles independently to walk again, and begins asserting his views about farming, Ann becomes increasingly uneasy. When HE initiates hand-holding (apparently to ask her feelings about him), Ann is so nervous that she stumbles and hits him in the face. Then afterwards she writes fearfully in her diary that the WAY he held her hand was “not the same at all” as her way of doing it. He was possessive: “I could tell that he was taking charge” (161).
Ann’s views here about Loomis’s intentions are highly suspect, being based entirely on her feelings of
unease. The main difference between the two instances of hand-holding is that Loomis was UNCONSCIOUS the first time, so he couldn’t express himself or respond to her at all. Ann could imagine whatever she wished about their relationship while holding his hand and did not have to really interact with him at all. But the second time they held hands, he was looking in her eyes and asking her a direct question, requiring her to express her feelings openly and risk a response from him she could not control. How terrifying to face a real relationship with a man rather than just an imaginary one—shared only with her diary!
4) When Ann’s fear is a response to Loomis’s actual behavior, it often seems an overreaction.
After returning to her house and living there with Loomis several days, Ann plays the piano for him one night, and he says afterwards, ”Thank you...This is the best evening I ever spent” (74). When Ann then questions his meaning, “Ever? You mean since the war,” Loomis sounds angry in his reply, “You heard me...I said ‘ever’ “ (74). A little afterwards, thinking about Mr. Loomis getting angry, Ann wishes she were “back in the cave again” (75). Hang on. Loomis sounds a little annoyed when Ann asks a stupid question, so she wants to go hide in a cave? It’s practically comical. (By the way, Ann doesn’t know yet that Loomis killed Edward, since he has only spoken of Edward once during delirium and later had a brief wild look when Ann mentioned it.)
If readers think much about this exchange, Ann’s question seems not only foolish but perhaps even rude. From Loomis’s explanations to Ann, we know that his life since the war has been a hellish nightmare. If we just imagine the dead cities and countryside he has explored for months, believing himself the last person alive, it is easy to guess how horrible the past year has been for him. So it would be utterly vacuous for him to say that their evening together is the best he has had since the war. It would be like a Nazi death camp survivor eating his first good meal after his release and saying, “This is the best meal I’ve had since my imprisonment ended” (NOT "the best meal ever"). Pretty inane? It would probably only make sense to say such a thing sarcastically, implying that the food is in fact only good at all when compared with prison fare. So Ann’s question could seem to imply that Loomis either made a ridiculously inane statement or was being sarcastic, meaning that his evening with Ann is only “the best” relative to his horrific experiences since a nuclear war.
In fact, Ann’s absurd question is best understood as A TACTIC FOR AVOIDING A DIRECT RESPONSE TO LOOMIS'S FEELINGS, such as by thanking him for his compliment and telling him that she enjoys his company also. His compliment expresses liking for her, and she SHOULD respond by saying something nice about him as well if she likes him (which her diary shows she does). But Ann often seems uncomfortable expressing her feelings openly. She is too fearful, preferring perhaps the safety of just
writing feelings in her diary, imagining possibilities, and reading fiction.
Similarly, when Loomis later holds her hand and asks seriously why she wanted to know if he’d ever been married, Ann again avoids expressing her real thoughts or feelings. She lies to avoid a real conversation that might bring them closer or at least make clearer exactly what their relationship is.
On these occasions, Ann seems to overreact to a compliment and a direct question from Loomis because she becomes nervous and feels the need to be evasive to protect herself. She protects herself by stopping conversation and withdrawing from Loomis, which prevents them from understanding one another better and getting closer.
Another possibility is that Ann's response to Loomis's compliment is coy. That is, she pretends not to understand his obvious meaning in order to get him to repeat the compliment and add to it (much like some vain, manipulative woman in Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice)? Personally, I think she is just
afraid of starting a real relationship, but she could be acting coy. It’s possible because the very next day, while she is gathering greens in a field, she imagines marrying Loomis within a year. But she thinks Loomis has “not indicated the slightest interest in any such idea” (81). So perhaps she is hoping he will show more interest in her and she sometimes tries to encourage him to. Of course, this is only speculation. We cannot know exactly why Ann answered Loomis evasively as she did.
In any case, it seems clear Loomis probably feels annoyed precisely because he guesses that Ann intentionally misunderstands him for her own reasons, whatever those reasons are. His annoyance about her behavior might also be similar to the attitude of Darcy in Pride and Prejudice, who has little patience with dishonesty or mind games: “there is meanness in all the arts which ladies sometimes
employ for captivation. Whatever bears affinity to cunning is despicable” (Austen 85).
(Austen, Jane. Pride and Prejudice. London: Penguin, 1985. 85).
Evidence Ann is an unreliable narrator (4-B)
Some other examples of Ann’s overreaction to Loomis’s behavior include the following: her worries that he is a murderer because of killing Edward; her fear that he is trying to control her like a slave because he tells her things that she should do on the farm; her fear that he is trying to control her when he holds her hand; and, I think, her flight to a cave hideout when he tries to sleep with her. But I’ll try to discuss these incidents separately later.
Ann also seems melodramatic when she worries sometimes that it’s the beginning of the end although the situation doesn’t justify such a fatalistic attitude at all. The first time this happens is when she sees a column of smoke approaching. It could be a rescue party. It could be the man she has hoped might be a companion, helpmate, and father to her children (36). It could even be another woman. But she writes
in her diary, “I feel as if it is the beginning of the end” (14). It might also seem ironic that she then notes, “I must make up my mind what to do” (14). It is ironic IF the reader realizes (unlike Ann) that her decision and actions will greatly determine whether Loomis’s arrival IS “the end” or not. Ann’s decision to hide and not even reveal herself to warn him about the contaminated stream nearly causes the end of her hopes for companionship right then, as well as the end of humanity.
Later, Ann becomes fatalistic again when she and Loomis try to go fishing but he starts to suffer from anemia and has to go back to the house. Ann then goes fishing alone, feeling “nervous and disappointed” (87). Though she hopes he will recover and be able to do things again, she writes, “Still, I felt as if it was the beginning of the end” (87). However, she right away corrects herself: “—no, not the end, but of a bad time, and all my plans of this morning seemed thoughtless and foolish” (87). Hang on. In the morning, she was hoping to marry Loomis in a year and, in ten years, have children old enough to gather greens with her. If he will be sick for a month, why should those plans suddenly seem foolish? And why is her first feeling fatalistic again?
She still tries to prepare a “romantic” dinner (88), so her romantic feelings about Loomis don’t seem to have changed. Maybe she’s just afraid he’ll die? But it’s just the start of his illness, not the point when he’s unconscious with barely any pulse. A little later, when Loomis becomes “visibly distressed,” Ann notices, “my own fear seemed to vanish” (100). She writes, “It was as if when he got weaker, I got stronger” (100). So Ann writes that she feels it is “the beginning of the end” even though she doesn’t REALLY feel this way, as shown by the fact she modifies that statement right away, and then she actually feels LESS worried when Loomis’s fear increases.
Clearly, Ann appears to have a tendency to exaggerate her fears, overreact emotionally to a situation, or be melodramatic. She also seems to recognize this tendency to some extent, such as when she writes of Loomis’s calm, matter-of-fact attitude towards possibly dying. She admits, “I think I would have been hysterical” (52). Unfortunately, she does not question her own feelings enough or recognize how much they really influence her thoughts.
5) We see that when Ann becomes afraid of Loomis later, she fears him for EXACTLY the same reasons that she was afraid of him in the beginning based only on her imaginings.
Sure, it could just be an unfortunate coincidence that Ann fears a sociopath would come to her valley and try to enslave her, and then this is EXACTLY what happens. The commenter Anne assumes that the story has obviously been designed as a simple conflict between good and evil, and, therefore, we should not try to understand Loomis like a normal person. He is just an extreme type of character created for the purpose of the story’s dualistic conflict. It’s not supposed to be realistic because “this is not real life, this is a book” (Post 132).
This kind of argument is irrational and an insult to O’Brien’s writing. The commenter just assumes HER interpretation is correct regardless of any textual evidence because she believes the author designed the story with the meaning she wants. It is also a hypocritical argument, since Anne bases many of her views about the story on HER assumptions about what is realistic, then accepts Loomis as just an unrealistic stereotype when it suits her interpretation, saying realism isn’t required in a story! So realism is only what the commenter says it is, and realism doesn’t matter when she doesn’t wish it to (presumably also when the protagonist leaves what seems the last habitable place hoping to find
children she saw in a dream?).
On the contrary, good stories ARE supposed to be realistic, portraying believable situations, characters, and relationships, and encouraging readers to think about issues that can be relevant to the way we live. It defeats the purpose of fiction, or of any literary analysis, to think that a story is the way it is simply because the author decided to make it that way, and characters are just stereotypes that don’t have to be realistic. In a simple adventure story or bad fiction with flat characters, that may be partly true. But O’Brien did not write this way in Z for Zachariah.
If the author had meant the story to be simple, wouldn't there be clearer evidence of Loomis's nefarious character from the beginning? He could have entered the valley carrying his carbine in a
threatening way, for instance; and he could have entered Ann's house by kicking the door open while holding his gun ready. The killing of Edward could have been portrayed clearly as murder. For example, Loomis could have shot him without any justification, and his attitude in his dreams could have been
exultant instead of horrified. What if Edward had wanted to use the suit to contact survivors in another military shelter instead of in a wild and desperate search for his family? And why would the author have crafted the story to make Ann partly responsible for Loomis's poisoning to the extent that she at least TWICE regrets her failure to warn him? Surely, it wouldn't have been too hard to free Ann from all guilt by arranging events a little differently. For example, she could have tried to call out but been too far away. Or she could have been eating at her cave when he went for a swim. Or, while taking radiation readings, he could have been startled by an animal and stumbled into the stream. Etc.
If Loomis seems a flat character, it is only because readers like Anne do not try hard enough to understand him, preferring to view him superficially as a type of villain. The limitations of the first-person narrator OBLIGE readers to TRY to fill in the blanks in their understanding of Loomis. And if we examine objectively his behavior throughout the story, he is clearly a complicated character, not a crazy sociopath. The commenter Anne even seems to recognize this to some extent when she says, “I think the novel portrays them both as human beings. They both make mistakes in moments of enthusiasm” (Post 150). However, she only says this, of course, to disagree that Loomis is at all more sensible than Ann, responding to my claim, “All the instructions [Loomis] gives her are sensible and practical, and they sometimes show how foolish and shortsighted she is by comparison” (Post 28).
If we are trying to think realistically about the situation in the story, we should recognize that the chances of a sociopath being the only other survivor after the war are very small. The chances seem even smaller that a Cornell-educated scientist such as Loomis could be such a person, and the more we look at his behavior (especially before his sickness), the less crazy he seems.
If readers are at all open-minded and critical, they should accept the possibility that Ann’s preexisting fears influence her ideas about Loomis and help to bring about what happens: a situation very like what she dreads from the beginning. This is much more believable than the view that, by an amazing and ironic coincidence, Loomis becomes exactly the sort of monster Ann fears meeting, and her fears at the start were actually miraculous premonitions. Similarly, towards the end of the story, when Ann dreams of another valley with children in it waiting for her to teach them, she is probably NOT having true visions. Rather, it is ONLY realistic to believe that the dreams are wish-fulfilling fantasies, and she is AGAIN letting her feelings influence her views of reality.
Evidence Ann is an unreliable narrator (6)
Posted August 6, 2011 at Teachnology
6) We see that Ann’s fears directly influence her opinions about Loomis to the extent that she even ignores her own reasonable judgments about him when it suits her current feelings.
This is shown particularly by her ideas about Loomis killing his coworker Edward to stop him from taking the safe-suit. When Ann first debates with herself about how blameworthy Loomis is for killing Edward, she reasons that she CAN’T KNOW if he acted wrongly because he could have acted in self-defense:
“From what he said, I cannot be sure how wrong it was. In a way, it was self-defense. If Edward had taken the suit, and left, and never come back, he would, in effect, have doomed Mr. Loomis to stay in the laboratory....So in a way Edward was, when he tried to steal the suit, threatening to kill him” (126-27).
This assessment of Loomis’s actions is reasonable and fair. In fact, she cannot know enough to make a certain judgment without having perfect knowledge of the character and intentions of both men, which is impossible. Like all people do in practically every situation, she has to make the best judgment she can based on her limited knowledge.
Interestingly, there are 3 good common-sense methods Ann could use to judge Loomis's character which she does NOT avail herself of. First, she could consider her own experience with him, which is the best evidence she has. Secondly, she could try to imagine what SHE would do in the same situation. Thirdly, she could ASK LOOMIS to explain his actions, which would at least give her a clearer understanding of his point of view. But Ann does none of these things.
What does she do? She trusts her feelings of the moment and ignores even her own reasoning when it conflicts with her feelings.
Killing in self-defense is most definitely NOT murder (i.e., killing with malice aforethought), and Ann admits he may have acted in self-defense. However, when Ann becomes afraid of Loomis again, she seems to completely forget this fact and just assumes he IS a murderer. Moreover, she does not realize that her personal feelings have changed her judgment about his actions and character. When she is later hiding from Loomis in the wilderness and decides to kill Faro to prevent him from tracking her, she feels she is “as much a murderer as Mr. Loomis” (225). Why? Loomis hasn’t suddenly become a murderer because he tried to sleep with her or even because he tried to wound her to stop her self-destructive “stupidity” of hiding in the forest. Ann hasn’t suddenly gained certain knowledge about what she could not know before.
Moreover, it is ironic she compares herself with Loomis, since her plan to kill Faro is worse than what he did. What Ann does is premeditated, whereas Loomis appears to have killed Edward spontaneously as the only way to stop him from leaving with the safe-suit. Of course, Ann’s victim is “only” a dog, but she herself doesn’t seem to think that makes her actions less wrong. In terms of intentions, her actions are more immoral.
Again, after planning to steal the safe-suit, Ann reflects, “I knew that Mr. Loomis would not hesitate to kill me for it if necessary” (229). Now it seems Loomis's killing of Edward has become proof to Ann that he is a cold-blooded killer who will murder without hesitation to get what he wants.
Ann's assumption that Loomis will kill her just as he killed Edward also doesn’t make sense because the
situation is different in a very important way: his survival is not at stake this time! Loomis doesn’t need the safe-suit to survive in the valley, but he couldn’t have survived in the underground shelter without it. Thus, Ann assumes Loomis will kill her even when his own survival is NOT at stake! Of course, in the end Ann proves to be wrong: Loomis DOES hesitate to kill her, and he chooses not to. It appears he CAN’T bring himself to kill someone if it is not necessary for his own survival.
These are just two examples of the way Ann’s feelings lead her to ignore her own reasonable judgments about Loomis, showing that her views about him are determined mainly by her FEELINGS, not careful reasoning.
Similar examples relate to Loomis's concern about wasting gas and his insistence on planting wheat to save seeds. During an early stage of his sickness, while Loomis is still conscious 10% of the time, Ann suggests using the tractor to get water so she doesn't have to leave him alone too long. Loomis responds, "A waste of gas" (105), and Ann admits in her diary, "I had thought of that" (105). Later during
his sickness, Ann's diary shows she's aware that seeds in the store are becoming infertile and need to be planted (140). Then, after Loomis starts recovering and tells Ann it's important to plant wheat to ensure the species doesn't die out, Ann writes, "I admit that it is a sensible idea" (154). However, after the so-called "hand-holding incident," when Ann felt Loomis's grasp was possessive and controlling, she suddenly reinterprets his earlier concerns about gas and wheat: "He was trying to control me, just as he had, in his way, controlled the planting, the use of gasoline, the tractor, and even my going to church. And, of coure, the suit, and, in the end, Edward" (162).
ANN'S INTERPRETATION HERE OF LOOMIS'S ACTIONS IS COMPLETELY UNREASONABLE AND GROSSLY UNFAIR. She knew before it was reasonable to be concerned about wasting gas, and he was advising against Ann's use of it even to benefit HIM when he was sick! She knew before that it was sensible to plant wheat to stop the species from dying out. She knew before that Loomis did NOT criticize her for church-going but for leaving his side to do that while neglecting planting. She also knew before that Loomis needed the safe-suit to survive, so he could have killed Edward in self-defense. Yet NOW she construes all of these things as showing a wish to have control?!
These are clear examples of how Ann ignores her own earlier reasoning and allows her feelings of the moment to bias her judgments. In effect, she creates a revisionist history of Loomis that merely fits her fearful beliefs at a particular time.
7) Though unfortunately it does not happen enough, Ann often questions her own fear-based judgments about Loomis.
Every time Ann questions herself, it is certainly a signal from the author that Ann’s views SHOULD be questioned by the reader. That is, Ann’s questioning of herself should provoke the reader to consider
carefully whether her judgments are reasonable or not. Such questioning might persuade us that Ann’s views are well-founded, or it might draw our attention to errors in her reasoning and help us realize that her judgments are unsound on important points.
It is probably a sign of unexamined biases and poor critical reading skills if a reader is quick to assume that Ann’s self-doubt is unnecessary or that questioning her own judgments is in itself evidence of her reliability. It is common for people to reinforce their point of view by making a small effort at questioning themselves only to then rationalize why they are right in their opinion. Self-doubt in itself of course does NOT suggest a person is reasonable. To judge how sound an opinion or judgment is, we must think carefully about the evidence and reasoning it is based on.
7.1. “I suppose it seems wrong to be so afraid of that [the man making friends with Faro]” (36).
When Ann is hiding in the hills and sees Loomis feeding her dog, she worries about him making friends
with Faro because the dog could lead him to her. Then she thinks it seems wrong of her to worry about this. How could this worry be morally wrong?
The obvious answer is that Loomis is another lone survivor and therefore probably takes comfort from the companionship of the dog. Ann’s opposition to Loomis’s friendship with Faro is immoral because it denies Loomis the right to a companion. It denies him sympathy for loneliness.
To judge whether Ann’s attitude is immoral, we should also consider whether there is a moral reason for Ann to deny Loomis sympathy and companionship. But the only reason is that Loomis MIGHT be a threat to her. Since a merely POTENTIAL threat cannot justify wishing harm to someone, Ann seems right: her attitude IS unethical.
Further, this situation draws attention to the possible immorality of denying someone else sympathy and companionship. Doesn’t Ann do this at other times also?
7.2. “I realized that it was stupid of me to have left him alone, knowing that he had had the nightmare, knowing that it might have been the beginning of the high fever” (82).
Here, Ann blames herself for leaving Loomis alone to go pick greens in the far field, where she daydreams about marrying him the following year. Returning to find the house empty, Ann worries that he might be “wandering somewhere in a delirium” (82); but she then finds him double-checking the radiation level of Burden Creek. When she approaches, he says, “I thought you had run away” (83), but Ann seems to ignore this concern and just asks if he is all right.
The question here is whether it is wrong of Ann to leave Loomis alone given what she knows about his worsening sickness, nightmares, and delirium. Well, for practical reasons, she obviously can’t stay with him ALL the time; and his fever has not begun yet. Also, she was picking greens for a salad that would probably help strengthen him. So perhaps she shouldn’t blame herself too much in this instance.
However, the situation calls our attention to a couple of important issues: (1) Ann has a moral responsibility to help a sick man; and (2) Loomis needs a companion to support him in sickness and comfort him amidst fears (apparent in nightmares and delirium). In addition, we notice here that Loomis already suspects Ann is afraid of him, and he worries she will “run away.” The impression a reader should be left with is that Loomis needs help, so it would be wrong of Ann to run away now just because of groundless fears. We should be hoping she will stay with him.
I think a critical reader should also question WHY Ann does not respond to Loomis’s concern that she might run away again. While picking greens a short time before, she was thinking of marrying him the following year. If she cares about him that much, shouldn’t she reassure him that she won’t leave him? It would also seem natural if she reacted with surprise, asking, “Why would I do that?” But she says nothing, ignoring his concern. This suggests that Ann doesn’t want to talk about her fear of him or the possibility of her running away again. Partly, this may be because she is embarrassed of her fears. But it is probably mainly because she is still thinking of hiding in the cave, as she considered doing shortly before. In other words, she is still considering the unethical option of abandoning Loomis out of groundless fear for her own safety.
7) Ann Questions Her Own Judgments (continued):
7.3. “I wish I had warned you when you...went swimming in the creek....I don’t know if I could have or not. I could have tried” (101-102).
Ann regrets she did not warn Loomis about swimming in the radioactive creek, and she seems to think she SHOULD HAVE tried to do so. She feels guilty because she knew the water was unsafe: “But I knew something was wrong with it” (102). Loomis then kindly reassures her that his sickness is not her fault, since he had the means to check the creek but didn’t: “I should have known, too....But I didn’t even look. It was my own fault” (102).
Here, the readers should obviously consider carefully whether Ann is at fault at all for not warning Loomis about the radioactive stream. Despite what Loomis says to reassure her, Ann clearly IS to
blame.
Ann only stopped herself from warning him because of a then groundless fear that he MIGHT be a threat to her. She did NOT have sufficient cause to fear him to justify allowing him to be severely harmed or killed. However, since Ann did not actively cause Loomis harm and he was the one most responsible for putting himself in danger, the important question is whether a person is morally responsible to prevent harm to others when possible.
I don’t think this is a very complex issue. Morality is a concern for the well-being of others, as opposed to a concern only for one’s own well-being. Morality does NOT entail ONLY that people DO no harm by
their own actions; it is also a concern that others do not SUFFER harm or injustice. It is easy to think of examples of people’s moral responsibility to prevent harm. For instance, if a man sees a child playing in the road and can save the child from being hit by a car, doesn’t the man have a moral obligation to do so? Wouldn’t we blame him if he decided to do nothing because it’s not his business or he might get hurt?
Of course, failure to prevent harm to another can be understood and excused if there is a definite danger in helping. Thus, we might forgive a man for not saving the child in the road if he’d probably be run over and killed in the process. Similarly, we should be able to forgive Germans who didn’t protest Nazi arrests of Jews, gypsies, and others. People who supported victims of persecution were sure to
become victims themselves, so we understand if they looked away. Or do we still blame them a bit and think there was something despicable in it—moral cowardice, in fact. In contrast, we believe that people such as Schindler, who tried to help victims of the Nazis despite possible risks, are admirable because of moral concern for others’ well-being.
So how should we think of Ann’s decision not to warn Loomis of a life-threatening danger that she knew
about but he didn’t? Was there a definite danger to Ann if she revealed herself to Loomis? No. At that point, she had seen nothing to justify her fear of him. When he had called out a greeting, she had even felt an instinctual desire to run to him—a desire probably rooted in her own need for human companionship.
Yes, it was certainly morally wrong of her NOT to warn Loomis, so she is partly at fault for his possibly fatal radiation sickness. What does this show us? Ann’s fear has already led her to act selfishly, causing her to suppress sympathy for Loomis and concern for his well-being. Readers should be wary that Ann’s fear can have this harmful effect.
7) Ann Questions Her Own Judgments (continued):
7.4. Ann explains how her feelings changed after the hand-holding incident: “...I had the worried feeling that everything had changed. At first I could not think why; then I remembered, and again I tried to convince myself that it was not so important. I had work to do and I ought to do it as before....And it was all as before except for my own feelings” (163-64).
Again, Ann's worry is based on her feelings only. As she says, nothing has really changed, and she should be focusing on practical concerns such as farm work.
7.5. When Loomis asks her to read to him again, as she did when he was sick, she worries that it is strange and then that he is not really listening. But she tries to persuade herself that her worries are unfounded. When she thinks about reading to him that “it seemed strange and unnatural,” she remembers others who read aloud: “Still, I knew of families who did read to one another as a regular
pastime; perhaps it was not so strange” (168).
Ann's worries here are ridiculous. Of course it is normal for people to enjoy hearing a story being read aloud, and it is also normal to enjoy the sound of a person's voice even if the story being read isn't fully understood. Anyone with experience reading bedtime stories to children should know this. Like Ann, Loomis has gone for about a year without hearing any human voice and has assumed until recently he was the last person alive. Ann's presence and reading to Loomis in the depths of his sickness also saved his life. So it is no doubt very comforting for him to hear her voice. Ann felt similarly the first time she heard Loomis's voice: "it was so long since I had heard any voice except my own...You get so used to silence you don't notice it. But the sound of his voice was nice, a strong sound. For a minute I almost changed my mind. It came on me in a rush, very strong" (23).
7.6. Then when Loomis doesn’t notice that Ann skipped an episode in Pride and Prejudice, she worries “it was wrong; it was as if he were playing some kind of a trick on me. And that idea made me feel more nervous than ever—in fact, afraid” (169). But she again tells herself she is just imagining things: “Then I got quite angry with myself for feeling that way. I told myself I was making up problems. There was no
reason to believe that he did not really want to be read to, even though he did not play close attention. The sound of a voice can be soothing; surely he must be bored and restless with inactivity” (169).
Again, if we evaluate her concerns rationally instead of just trusting her feelings, Ann's worry seems absurd. Because he doesn't seem to notice she skipped part of a story, she becomes really afraid he's trying to trick her?! He might not notice because he doesn't know the story. Or, as Ann then reasons, he might just be enjoying the sound of her voice--possibly while thinking about something else, such as plans for the farm.
7.7. The night after she reads Pride and Prejudice, Loomis asks Ann to play the piano and she feels nervous sitting with her back to him. But she realizes she has no good reason to be nervous: “I felt unreasonably wary about that” (170-71).
7.8. As Loomis regains strength and starts telling Ann what should be done on the farm, Ann starts fearing he is taking control. Feeling uneasy after he holds her hand, she writes, “He was trying to control me, just as he had, in his way, controlled the planting, the use of the gasoline, the tractor, and even my going to church. And, of course, the suit, and, in the end, Edward” (162). Later, after Ann runs away and hides in a cave for 10 days, refusing even friendship, Loomis takes the tractor key and locks the store. Ann again assumes he is just a control-freak: “I knew he had a compulsion for taking charge of things, for saving things, for rationing them out in an orderly manner” (217).
Readers should realize that all these assumptions about Loomis are clearly biased. As Ann recognized
earlier, Loomis was right about planting wheat to save seeds, and he could have killed Edward in self-defense to ensure his own survival (NOT out of a compulsion to control the safe-suit and Edward!). When she is afraid of Loomis, Ann ignores her own reasonable judgments about him, choosing to interpret his behavior in the worst way to justify her fear.
However, even after Ann has been in hiding from Loomis for two weeks, she again begins to question her understanding of him. She realizes that he is taking a “long-term view” and “he did not trust [her] to do that (perhaps rightly)” (217). That is, she accepts Loomis could be right to think she is not practical in planning for their future together. This thought is EXTREMELY IRONIC because it is such a huge understatement of the facts. In running away from Loomis and living in a cave, OF COURSE Ann is not being practical or taking a long-term view of their surviving in the valley together. Her actions are insanely counter-productive, making it much harder for them to survive--in effect, sabotaging the entire project. Ann recognizes this to some extent after considering how long she can survive on supplies in the cave supplemented by fish and berries: “But it was obvious that in the long run I could not live”
(218).
Whereas Loomis is thinking long-term of a future together in which they give each other companionship and establish a colony that can save humanity from extinction, Ann is foolishly shortsighted, focusing on interpreting the possible meaning of the minutiae of Loomis's actions (e.g., what it means when he fails to notice a missed passage in a novel).
7) Ann Questions Her Own Judgments (continued):
7.9. A more reasonable explanation of Loomis's control of the tractor and the store is that he is trying to force Ann to be practical and stop hiding from him. After about 2 weeks in hiding, it finally occurs to Ann that his actions might just be a reaction to her behavior:
“...perhaps, in a way, these new things he had done were my own fault. It seemed that the more I stayed away from him the more determined he was that I come back. Perhaps I could yield a little. There are people who cannot stand being alone; perhaps he was acting from despair. Why should I not, then, offer to talk to him, if he wanted me to, say for an hour or so in the evenings—he on the porch, I on the road? It could do no harm. There was no reason I should not be as friendly as safety permitted. It was a sensible plan and made me feel better” (218).
Yes, for the last two humans to try to be companionable certainly does seem sensible! Talking with Loomis even at a distance is the ONLY reasonable plan, and still not reasonable enough. She is living in the wilderness with winter approaching and work that needs doing. This is the LAST time Ann is critical of her own judgment of Loomis--unfortunately, too late. After he tries to shoot and wound her, she becomes convinced he is insane (228), again interpreting his behavior in an extreme way.
7.10. Before Ann turns her back on Loomis and leaves the valley, she blames him for never thanking her for caring for him: “You didn’t even thank me for taking care of you when you were sick” (248). Then she is critical of herself for the last time in thinking, “So my last words were childish” (248).
This last self-criticism could sum up most of Ann's behavior with Loomis. She is childish. After he tried to sleep with her and she ran away, Loomis said, "I can only hope you will change your mind...and act more like an adult and less like a schoolgirl" (190). Finally, Ann describes her own last behavior with him in the same way.
Her last words to him are a childishly petty parting shot--part of the revenge she started planning after Loomis burned her favorite book (231). What makes her last words ridiculous is that this criticism of Loomis is baseless, hypocritical, and trivial. It is baseless because Loomis expressed gratitude at least once by telling Ann she saved his life (138). He also thanked her explicitly once for playing piano, but she intentionally misunderstood his compliment (74). It is hypocritical because Ann forgets she is partly responsible for causing his sickness. And, after Loomis's attempts to sleep with Ann and shoot her, it is incredibly trivial that her last accusation is only that he never thanked her! It seems as if she is having trouble again remembering her reasons for fearing him.
8) Ann is dishonest with herself and Loomis:
Sometimes Ann lies to herself, assuring herself that opinions are facts even though she is only speculating. Sometimes she is dishonest just by keeping feelings to herself or withholding information
that concerns Loomis. This secretiveness prevents important issues from being discussed openly, fosters misunderstanding, and allows Ann to forget or ignore her own contradictory reasoning at other times. Finally, Ann is dishonest sometimes by lying to Loomis about her thoughts and feelings—not
simply holding back information, but saying what is untrue.
8.1: After Ann plays piano for Loomis the first time, he says very appreciatively, “Thank you...That was beautiful...This is the best evening I ever spent” (74). Ann is then dishonest when she responds to his compliment, “Ever? You mean since the war” (74).
This is not a simple misunderstanding. If readers understand the conversation and its context, Loomis’s meaning is perfectly clear, and Ann’s assumption about it is foolish. Either Ann is very stupid or she answers Loomis this way because she wants to avoid acknowledging what he really means and responding to it appropriately (e.g., by thanking him for the compliment and perhaps saying she enjoys his company also). Thus, this is an example of Ann pretending to misunderstand Loomis because she is uncomfortable expressing her own feelings honestly. Ann’s specific motives can only be guessed, but she is probably either being shy or coy.
8.2: While gathering greens near the apple tree, Ann thinks about marrying Loomis, then decides, “But of course it was much too soon, and he was very sick. We would talk about it when he had finally
recovered” (81). This is probably an example of Ann being dishonest with herself, inventing an excuse for not expressing romantic feelings directly. In fact, if she really hopes they can marry and have children, there is no reason why she should not talk with him about it right away. If Loomis could share such hopes for their future, it would probably also help his recovery.
The commenter Anne argues that the protagonist is only daydreaming, but this is ridiculous because she has hoped since the war that a man would come and marry her, she makes specific plans for marrying Loomis, and she thinks repeatedly about this hope. People who are just daydreaming do not generally confuse daydreams with reality these ways. If it is only a daydream, Ann is deluding even herself that it is a real hope!
(An interesting possibility that is pure speculation is that Ann may have spoken to Loomis about these hopes during the worst part of his sickness, when she held his hand and thought he could not hear her. This would help explain Loomis's expectations of her.)
8.3: After gathering greens near the apple tree and thinking about marrying Loomis, Ann worries she shouldn’t have left him alone. When she finds him by the creek, he says, “I thought you had run
away” (83). Though he seems to be speaking matter-of-factly, Loomis expresses a concern that she might be afraid of him and abandon him. In fact, it seems HE IS RIGHT about her feelings, since Ann nearly went back to the cave after her stupid response to his compliment (above) annoyed him (74):
“I decided I had better not go to the cave after all. Suppose he should call for help?” (76).
Ann is somewhat dishonest when she ignores Loomis’s concern that she might run away, responding only, “Are you all right?” (83). At this point, Ann seems genuinely worried about Loomis’s condition, and she wishes she’d made a mistake with his radiation meter: “Oh, I hoped I had read it wrong! I had never hoped anything so much” (83). Yet, by ignoring completely Loomis’s concern, she seems to be denying the reality of her fear a short time before. Not only does she neglect to reassure him she will not leave, she doesn’t even acknowledge to herself in her diary whether Loomis’s concern is warranted or not. She completely avoids the issue for the moment, as if just not wanting to think about it.
8.4: Ann admits deceiving herself about store supplies: “The truth was, now that the tractor was running
I could face a fact that I had previously tried to keep out of my mind, it being too depressing to dwell on: the store was an illusion. It seemed, especially at first, like an endless supply of almost everything I needed. But in fact I knew it was not” (94). Ann admits trying to ignore the fact that most store supplies won’t keep indefinitely and seeds are losing fertility each year. What’s important to note here is that SHE IGNORES FACTS THAT SHE FEELS UNCOMFORTABLE THINKING ABOUT. She deceives herself about reality if it makes her feel better.
8) Ann is dishonest with herself and Loomis (continued):
8.5: When Loomis’s fever starts and he says sympathetically, “Poor Ann Burden,” she again tells herself that she cannot tell him about her hopes of marriage, children, and saving the human race: “How could I tell him about the apple tree, about what I had thought that morning while I picked the flowers and the poke greens? How I felt when I plowed the field? It all seemed remote now and out of place; it made me sad to think about it” (101). This could again be an instance of Ann deceiving herself about what is appropriate or possible because of her discomfort expressing romantic feelings directly. But it is also just a case of irrational thinking, or basing her judgments on feelings of the moment. In fact, it could HELP Loomis greatly to tell him of her hopes for their future together, since it would give him HOPES that would strengthen his will to live.
8.6: Instead of expressing useful hopes for their future, Ann expresses a useless regret: “I wish I had warned you when you...went swimming in that creek” (101). In saying this, Ann seems dishonest with both herself and Loomis. She is dishonest with herself because she ignores the fact that only Loomis’s sickness enabled her to overcome her fear of him—because her fear of being alone if he died was greater than her fear he might enslave her. If Loomis had NOT become sick, Ann would probably still be hiding in her cave!
On the other hand, Ann seems dishonest to Loomis because she is expressing her feelings for him only indirectly—as guilt for not helping him, rather than as desire for companionship. What Ann fails to see is that SHE IS MAKING THE SAME MISTAKE AGAIN. Just as she suppressed her desire to run to him when he first called out, she now suppresses her hopes they can marry. She again suppresses her desire for companionship, seemingly afraid to express this hope directly even to the only other person she’s ever likely to meet.
8.7: After Ann hears Loomis’s nightmares about killing Edward, she starts to worry “he may be a murderer” (120). Readers should realize this is a foolish worry for several obvious reasons: (1) the circumstances of the war and Loomis’s fear for his own survival should make Ann sympathize with him; (2) Ann already likes Loomis enough based on her own experiences with him that she hopes to marry him; (3) Loomis is probably the last man she will ever meet, so she should be sympathetic towards him if she has any desire for human companionship; (4) the nightmares themselves suggest he is NOT a murderer, but a man driven to kill out of fear for his own life and then traumatized by the experience; and (5) it is pointless to worry about what happened in the lab because SHE CANNOT KNOW and there’s nothing to be gained from sympathizing more with a dead man than with Loomis, who is still alive and can be a companion to her. Ann even recognizes most of these reasons (except the last two).
In terms of dishonesty, though, what’s important to note is that Ann decides to keep her knowledge of Loomis’s nightmares secret: “I keep wondering. If he lives and becomes conscious again—should I ask him about it? He obviously did not want to tell what happened, since in his own story of the laboratory, and the suit, and his trip to Chicago he never mentioned Edward at all. And yet it would be hard, with only two of us, for me to know this secret and try to hide it. I will have to decide” (128).
The answer to Ann’s question is that OF COURSE SHE SHOULD TALK TO HIM ABOUT IT. She has heard his private thoughts and found out something he apparently wasn’t ready to discuss. There is nothing inherently wrong with him wanting to keep something to himself. Ann does it also, for example in keeping the cave a secret and not telling him her hopes to get married. However, Ann has no right to know Loomis's private thoughts or sit in judgment of him based on this small glimpse of his mind. It is a violation of his privacy, and as unjust as it would be for Loomis to look at one thing in Ann’s diary (e.g., her concern about what to wear while she’s in hiding) and judge her a complete fool. Obviously, she SHOULD be honest about what she knows and give him the chance to explain his own point of view as only he can do.
8.8: When Loomis recovers enough to speak for the first time and says he heard Ann play the piano, Ann feels like hugging him but instead just sits by the bed and says with little feeling, “Yes. I didn’t know if you could hear” (137). Here, Ann is again dishonest with Loomis about her feelings. She is joyful about his recovery and feels affection for him, but she refrains from showing it by hugging him as she wishes. When she first thought of marrying him, she decided, “We would talk about it when he had finally recovered” (81). Now he is beginning to recover, but she still keeps her feelings hidden. It is characteristic of Ann’s behavior that she is generally very reluctant to show her feelings even when she has a strong impulse to do so.
Of course there are other factors which influence her decisions, but she invariably decides to keep her feelings to herself, as
if this is what she is most comfortable doing. Other factors seem to simply afford her with excuses for continuing to stay withdrawn in her own imaginative world in which she seems to control the narrative of her life. As Loomis is recovering, one new factor that seems to influence her reserve is her worry
about the killing of Edward, her knowledge of which is another important matter she decides to keep secret.
This is shown particularly by her ideas about Loomis killing his coworker Edward to stop him from taking the safe-suit. When Ann first debates with herself about how blameworthy Loomis is for killing Edward, she reasons that she CAN’T KNOW if he acted wrongly because he could have acted in self-defense:
“From what he said, I cannot be sure how wrong it was. In a way, it was self-defense. If Edward had taken the suit, and left, and never come back, he would, in effect, have doomed Mr. Loomis to stay in the laboratory....So in a way Edward was, when he tried to steal the suit, threatening to kill him” (126-27).
This assessment of Loomis’s actions is reasonable and fair. In fact, she cannot know enough to make a certain judgment without having perfect knowledge of the character and intentions of both men, which is impossible. Like all people do in practically every situation, she has to make the best judgment she can based on her limited knowledge.
Interestingly, there are 3 good common-sense methods Ann could use to judge Loomis's character which she does NOT avail herself of. First, she could consider her own experience with him, which is the best evidence she has. Secondly, she could try to imagine what SHE would do in the same situation. Thirdly, she could ASK LOOMIS to explain his actions, which would at least give her a clearer understanding of his point of view. But Ann does none of these things.
What does she do? She trusts her feelings of the moment and ignores even her own reasoning when it conflicts with her feelings.
Killing in self-defense is most definitely NOT murder (i.e., killing with malice aforethought), and Ann admits he may have acted in self-defense. However, when Ann becomes afraid of Loomis again, she seems to completely forget this fact and just assumes he IS a murderer. Moreover, she does not realize that her personal feelings have changed her judgment about his actions and character. When she is later hiding from Loomis in the wilderness and decides to kill Faro to prevent him from tracking her, she feels she is “as much a murderer as Mr. Loomis” (225). Why? Loomis hasn’t suddenly become a murderer because he tried to sleep with her or even because he tried to wound her to stop her self-destructive “stupidity” of hiding in the forest. Ann hasn’t suddenly gained certain knowledge about what she could not know before.
Moreover, it is ironic she compares herself with Loomis, since her plan to kill Faro is worse than what he did. What Ann does is premeditated, whereas Loomis appears to have killed Edward spontaneously as the only way to stop him from leaving with the safe-suit. Of course, Ann’s victim is “only” a dog, but she herself doesn’t seem to think that makes her actions less wrong. In terms of intentions, her actions are more immoral.
Again, after planning to steal the safe-suit, Ann reflects, “I knew that Mr. Loomis would not hesitate to kill me for it if necessary” (229). Now it seems Loomis's killing of Edward has become proof to Ann that he is a cold-blooded killer who will murder without hesitation to get what he wants.
Ann's assumption that Loomis will kill her just as he killed Edward also doesn’t make sense because the
situation is different in a very important way: his survival is not at stake this time! Loomis doesn’t need the safe-suit to survive in the valley, but he couldn’t have survived in the underground shelter without it. Thus, Ann assumes Loomis will kill her even when his own survival is NOT at stake! Of course, in the end Ann proves to be wrong: Loomis DOES hesitate to kill her, and he chooses not to. It appears he CAN’T bring himself to kill someone if it is not necessary for his own survival.
These are just two examples of the way Ann’s feelings lead her to ignore her own reasonable judgments about Loomis, showing that her views about him are determined mainly by her FEELINGS, not careful reasoning.
Similar examples relate to Loomis's concern about wasting gas and his insistence on planting wheat to save seeds. During an early stage of his sickness, while Loomis is still conscious 10% of the time, Ann suggests using the tractor to get water so she doesn't have to leave him alone too long. Loomis responds, "A waste of gas" (105), and Ann admits in her diary, "I had thought of that" (105). Later during
his sickness, Ann's diary shows she's aware that seeds in the store are becoming infertile and need to be planted (140). Then, after Loomis starts recovering and tells Ann it's important to plant wheat to ensure the species doesn't die out, Ann writes, "I admit that it is a sensible idea" (154). However, after the so-called "hand-holding incident," when Ann felt Loomis's grasp was possessive and controlling, she suddenly reinterprets his earlier concerns about gas and wheat: "He was trying to control me, just as he had, in his way, controlled the planting, the use of gasoline, the tractor, and even my going to church. And, of coure, the suit, and, in the end, Edward" (162).
ANN'S INTERPRETATION HERE OF LOOMIS'S ACTIONS IS COMPLETELY UNREASONABLE AND GROSSLY UNFAIR. She knew before it was reasonable to be concerned about wasting gas, and he was advising against Ann's use of it even to benefit HIM when he was sick! She knew before that it was sensible to plant wheat to stop the species from dying out. She knew before that Loomis did NOT criticize her for church-going but for leaving his side to do that while neglecting planting. She also knew before that Loomis needed the safe-suit to survive, so he could have killed Edward in self-defense. Yet NOW she construes all of these things as showing a wish to have control?!
These are clear examples of how Ann ignores her own earlier reasoning and allows her feelings of the moment to bias her judgments. In effect, she creates a revisionist history of Loomis that merely fits her fearful beliefs at a particular time.
7) Though unfortunately it does not happen enough, Ann often questions her own fear-based judgments about Loomis.
Every time Ann questions herself, it is certainly a signal from the author that Ann’s views SHOULD be questioned by the reader. That is, Ann’s questioning of herself should provoke the reader to consider
carefully whether her judgments are reasonable or not. Such questioning might persuade us that Ann’s views are well-founded, or it might draw our attention to errors in her reasoning and help us realize that her judgments are unsound on important points.
It is probably a sign of unexamined biases and poor critical reading skills if a reader is quick to assume that Ann’s self-doubt is unnecessary or that questioning her own judgments is in itself evidence of her reliability. It is common for people to reinforce their point of view by making a small effort at questioning themselves only to then rationalize why they are right in their opinion. Self-doubt in itself of course does NOT suggest a person is reasonable. To judge how sound an opinion or judgment is, we must think carefully about the evidence and reasoning it is based on.
7.1. “I suppose it seems wrong to be so afraid of that [the man making friends with Faro]” (36).
When Ann is hiding in the hills and sees Loomis feeding her dog, she worries about him making friends
with Faro because the dog could lead him to her. Then she thinks it seems wrong of her to worry about this. How could this worry be morally wrong?
The obvious answer is that Loomis is another lone survivor and therefore probably takes comfort from the companionship of the dog. Ann’s opposition to Loomis’s friendship with Faro is immoral because it denies Loomis the right to a companion. It denies him sympathy for loneliness.
To judge whether Ann’s attitude is immoral, we should also consider whether there is a moral reason for Ann to deny Loomis sympathy and companionship. But the only reason is that Loomis MIGHT be a threat to her. Since a merely POTENTIAL threat cannot justify wishing harm to someone, Ann seems right: her attitude IS unethical.
Further, this situation draws attention to the possible immorality of denying someone else sympathy and companionship. Doesn’t Ann do this at other times also?
7.2. “I realized that it was stupid of me to have left him alone, knowing that he had had the nightmare, knowing that it might have been the beginning of the high fever” (82).
Here, Ann blames herself for leaving Loomis alone to go pick greens in the far field, where she daydreams about marrying him the following year. Returning to find the house empty, Ann worries that he might be “wandering somewhere in a delirium” (82); but she then finds him double-checking the radiation level of Burden Creek. When she approaches, he says, “I thought you had run away” (83), but Ann seems to ignore this concern and just asks if he is all right.
The question here is whether it is wrong of Ann to leave Loomis alone given what she knows about his worsening sickness, nightmares, and delirium. Well, for practical reasons, she obviously can’t stay with him ALL the time; and his fever has not begun yet. Also, she was picking greens for a salad that would probably help strengthen him. So perhaps she shouldn’t blame herself too much in this instance.
However, the situation calls our attention to a couple of important issues: (1) Ann has a moral responsibility to help a sick man; and (2) Loomis needs a companion to support him in sickness and comfort him amidst fears (apparent in nightmares and delirium). In addition, we notice here that Loomis already suspects Ann is afraid of him, and he worries she will “run away.” The impression a reader should be left with is that Loomis needs help, so it would be wrong of Ann to run away now just because of groundless fears. We should be hoping she will stay with him.
I think a critical reader should also question WHY Ann does not respond to Loomis’s concern that she might run away again. While picking greens a short time before, she was thinking of marrying him the following year. If she cares about him that much, shouldn’t she reassure him that she won’t leave him? It would also seem natural if she reacted with surprise, asking, “Why would I do that?” But she says nothing, ignoring his concern. This suggests that Ann doesn’t want to talk about her fear of him or the possibility of her running away again. Partly, this may be because she is embarrassed of her fears. But it is probably mainly because she is still thinking of hiding in the cave, as she considered doing shortly before. In other words, she is still considering the unethical option of abandoning Loomis out of groundless fear for her own safety.
7) Ann Questions Her Own Judgments (continued):
7.3. “I wish I had warned you when you...went swimming in the creek....I don’t know if I could have or not. I could have tried” (101-102).
Ann regrets she did not warn Loomis about swimming in the radioactive creek, and she seems to think she SHOULD HAVE tried to do so. She feels guilty because she knew the water was unsafe: “But I knew something was wrong with it” (102). Loomis then kindly reassures her that his sickness is not her fault, since he had the means to check the creek but didn’t: “I should have known, too....But I didn’t even look. It was my own fault” (102).
Here, the readers should obviously consider carefully whether Ann is at fault at all for not warning Loomis about the radioactive stream. Despite what Loomis says to reassure her, Ann clearly IS to
blame.
Ann only stopped herself from warning him because of a then groundless fear that he MIGHT be a threat to her. She did NOT have sufficient cause to fear him to justify allowing him to be severely harmed or killed. However, since Ann did not actively cause Loomis harm and he was the one most responsible for putting himself in danger, the important question is whether a person is morally responsible to prevent harm to others when possible.
I don’t think this is a very complex issue. Morality is a concern for the well-being of others, as opposed to a concern only for one’s own well-being. Morality does NOT entail ONLY that people DO no harm by
their own actions; it is also a concern that others do not SUFFER harm or injustice. It is easy to think of examples of people’s moral responsibility to prevent harm. For instance, if a man sees a child playing in the road and can save the child from being hit by a car, doesn’t the man have a moral obligation to do so? Wouldn’t we blame him if he decided to do nothing because it’s not his business or he might get hurt?
Of course, failure to prevent harm to another can be understood and excused if there is a definite danger in helping. Thus, we might forgive a man for not saving the child in the road if he’d probably be run over and killed in the process. Similarly, we should be able to forgive Germans who didn’t protest Nazi arrests of Jews, gypsies, and others. People who supported victims of persecution were sure to
become victims themselves, so we understand if they looked away. Or do we still blame them a bit and think there was something despicable in it—moral cowardice, in fact. In contrast, we believe that people such as Schindler, who tried to help victims of the Nazis despite possible risks, are admirable because of moral concern for others’ well-being.
So how should we think of Ann’s decision not to warn Loomis of a life-threatening danger that she knew
about but he didn’t? Was there a definite danger to Ann if she revealed herself to Loomis? No. At that point, she had seen nothing to justify her fear of him. When he had called out a greeting, she had even felt an instinctual desire to run to him—a desire probably rooted in her own need for human companionship.
Yes, it was certainly morally wrong of her NOT to warn Loomis, so she is partly at fault for his possibly fatal radiation sickness. What does this show us? Ann’s fear has already led her to act selfishly, causing her to suppress sympathy for Loomis and concern for his well-being. Readers should be wary that Ann’s fear can have this harmful effect.
7) Ann Questions Her Own Judgments (continued):
7.4. Ann explains how her feelings changed after the hand-holding incident: “...I had the worried feeling that everything had changed. At first I could not think why; then I remembered, and again I tried to convince myself that it was not so important. I had work to do and I ought to do it as before....And it was all as before except for my own feelings” (163-64).
Again, Ann's worry is based on her feelings only. As she says, nothing has really changed, and she should be focusing on practical concerns such as farm work.
7.5. When Loomis asks her to read to him again, as she did when he was sick, she worries that it is strange and then that he is not really listening. But she tries to persuade herself that her worries are unfounded. When she thinks about reading to him that “it seemed strange and unnatural,” she remembers others who read aloud: “Still, I knew of families who did read to one another as a regular
pastime; perhaps it was not so strange” (168).
Ann's worries here are ridiculous. Of course it is normal for people to enjoy hearing a story being read aloud, and it is also normal to enjoy the sound of a person's voice even if the story being read isn't fully understood. Anyone with experience reading bedtime stories to children should know this. Like Ann, Loomis has gone for about a year without hearing any human voice and has assumed until recently he was the last person alive. Ann's presence and reading to Loomis in the depths of his sickness also saved his life. So it is no doubt very comforting for him to hear her voice. Ann felt similarly the first time she heard Loomis's voice: "it was so long since I had heard any voice except my own...You get so used to silence you don't notice it. But the sound of his voice was nice, a strong sound. For a minute I almost changed my mind. It came on me in a rush, very strong" (23).
7.6. Then when Loomis doesn’t notice that Ann skipped an episode in Pride and Prejudice, she worries “it was wrong; it was as if he were playing some kind of a trick on me. And that idea made me feel more nervous than ever—in fact, afraid” (169). But she again tells herself she is just imagining things: “Then I got quite angry with myself for feeling that way. I told myself I was making up problems. There was no
reason to believe that he did not really want to be read to, even though he did not play close attention. The sound of a voice can be soothing; surely he must be bored and restless with inactivity” (169).
Again, if we evaluate her concerns rationally instead of just trusting her feelings, Ann's worry seems absurd. Because he doesn't seem to notice she skipped part of a story, she becomes really afraid he's trying to trick her?! He might not notice because he doesn't know the story. Or, as Ann then reasons, he might just be enjoying the sound of her voice--possibly while thinking about something else, such as plans for the farm.
7.7. The night after she reads Pride and Prejudice, Loomis asks Ann to play the piano and she feels nervous sitting with her back to him. But she realizes she has no good reason to be nervous: “I felt unreasonably wary about that” (170-71).
7.8. As Loomis regains strength and starts telling Ann what should be done on the farm, Ann starts fearing he is taking control. Feeling uneasy after he holds her hand, she writes, “He was trying to control me, just as he had, in his way, controlled the planting, the use of the gasoline, the tractor, and even my going to church. And, of course, the suit, and, in the end, Edward” (162). Later, after Ann runs away and hides in a cave for 10 days, refusing even friendship, Loomis takes the tractor key and locks the store. Ann again assumes he is just a control-freak: “I knew he had a compulsion for taking charge of things, for saving things, for rationing them out in an orderly manner” (217).
Readers should realize that all these assumptions about Loomis are clearly biased. As Ann recognized
earlier, Loomis was right about planting wheat to save seeds, and he could have killed Edward in self-defense to ensure his own survival (NOT out of a compulsion to control the safe-suit and Edward!). When she is afraid of Loomis, Ann ignores her own reasonable judgments about him, choosing to interpret his behavior in the worst way to justify her fear.
However, even after Ann has been in hiding from Loomis for two weeks, she again begins to question her understanding of him. She realizes that he is taking a “long-term view” and “he did not trust [her] to do that (perhaps rightly)” (217). That is, she accepts Loomis could be right to think she is not practical in planning for their future together. This thought is EXTREMELY IRONIC because it is such a huge understatement of the facts. In running away from Loomis and living in a cave, OF COURSE Ann is not being practical or taking a long-term view of their surviving in the valley together. Her actions are insanely counter-productive, making it much harder for them to survive--in effect, sabotaging the entire project. Ann recognizes this to some extent after considering how long she can survive on supplies in the cave supplemented by fish and berries: “But it was obvious that in the long run I could not live”
(218).
Whereas Loomis is thinking long-term of a future together in which they give each other companionship and establish a colony that can save humanity from extinction, Ann is foolishly shortsighted, focusing on interpreting the possible meaning of the minutiae of Loomis's actions (e.g., what it means when he fails to notice a missed passage in a novel).
7) Ann Questions Her Own Judgments (continued):
7.9. A more reasonable explanation of Loomis's control of the tractor and the store is that he is trying to force Ann to be practical and stop hiding from him. After about 2 weeks in hiding, it finally occurs to Ann that his actions might just be a reaction to her behavior:
“...perhaps, in a way, these new things he had done were my own fault. It seemed that the more I stayed away from him the more determined he was that I come back. Perhaps I could yield a little. There are people who cannot stand being alone; perhaps he was acting from despair. Why should I not, then, offer to talk to him, if he wanted me to, say for an hour or so in the evenings—he on the porch, I on the road? It could do no harm. There was no reason I should not be as friendly as safety permitted. It was a sensible plan and made me feel better” (218).
Yes, for the last two humans to try to be companionable certainly does seem sensible! Talking with Loomis even at a distance is the ONLY reasonable plan, and still not reasonable enough. She is living in the wilderness with winter approaching and work that needs doing. This is the LAST time Ann is critical of her own judgment of Loomis--unfortunately, too late. After he tries to shoot and wound her, she becomes convinced he is insane (228), again interpreting his behavior in an extreme way.
7.10. Before Ann turns her back on Loomis and leaves the valley, she blames him for never thanking her for caring for him: “You didn’t even thank me for taking care of you when you were sick” (248). Then she is critical of herself for the last time in thinking, “So my last words were childish” (248).
This last self-criticism could sum up most of Ann's behavior with Loomis. She is childish. After he tried to sleep with her and she ran away, Loomis said, "I can only hope you will change your mind...and act more like an adult and less like a schoolgirl" (190). Finally, Ann describes her own last behavior with him in the same way.
Her last words to him are a childishly petty parting shot--part of the revenge she started planning after Loomis burned her favorite book (231). What makes her last words ridiculous is that this criticism of Loomis is baseless, hypocritical, and trivial. It is baseless because Loomis expressed gratitude at least once by telling Ann she saved his life (138). He also thanked her explicitly once for playing piano, but she intentionally misunderstood his compliment (74). It is hypocritical because Ann forgets she is partly responsible for causing his sickness. And, after Loomis's attempts to sleep with Ann and shoot her, it is incredibly trivial that her last accusation is only that he never thanked her! It seems as if she is having trouble again remembering her reasons for fearing him.
8) Ann is dishonest with herself and Loomis:
Sometimes Ann lies to herself, assuring herself that opinions are facts even though she is only speculating. Sometimes she is dishonest just by keeping feelings to herself or withholding information
that concerns Loomis. This secretiveness prevents important issues from being discussed openly, fosters misunderstanding, and allows Ann to forget or ignore her own contradictory reasoning at other times. Finally, Ann is dishonest sometimes by lying to Loomis about her thoughts and feelings—not
simply holding back information, but saying what is untrue.
8.1: After Ann plays piano for Loomis the first time, he says very appreciatively, “Thank you...That was beautiful...This is the best evening I ever spent” (74). Ann is then dishonest when she responds to his compliment, “Ever? You mean since the war” (74).
This is not a simple misunderstanding. If readers understand the conversation and its context, Loomis’s meaning is perfectly clear, and Ann’s assumption about it is foolish. Either Ann is very stupid or she answers Loomis this way because she wants to avoid acknowledging what he really means and responding to it appropriately (e.g., by thanking him for the compliment and perhaps saying she enjoys his company also). Thus, this is an example of Ann pretending to misunderstand Loomis because she is uncomfortable expressing her own feelings honestly. Ann’s specific motives can only be guessed, but she is probably either being shy or coy.
8.2: While gathering greens near the apple tree, Ann thinks about marrying Loomis, then decides, “But of course it was much too soon, and he was very sick. We would talk about it when he had finally
recovered” (81). This is probably an example of Ann being dishonest with herself, inventing an excuse for not expressing romantic feelings directly. In fact, if she really hopes they can marry and have children, there is no reason why she should not talk with him about it right away. If Loomis could share such hopes for their future, it would probably also help his recovery.
The commenter Anne argues that the protagonist is only daydreaming, but this is ridiculous because she has hoped since the war that a man would come and marry her, she makes specific plans for marrying Loomis, and she thinks repeatedly about this hope. People who are just daydreaming do not generally confuse daydreams with reality these ways. If it is only a daydream, Ann is deluding even herself that it is a real hope!
(An interesting possibility that is pure speculation is that Ann may have spoken to Loomis about these hopes during the worst part of his sickness, when she held his hand and thought he could not hear her. This would help explain Loomis's expectations of her.)
8.3: After gathering greens near the apple tree and thinking about marrying Loomis, Ann worries she shouldn’t have left him alone. When she finds him by the creek, he says, “I thought you had run
away” (83). Though he seems to be speaking matter-of-factly, Loomis expresses a concern that she might be afraid of him and abandon him. In fact, it seems HE IS RIGHT about her feelings, since Ann nearly went back to the cave after her stupid response to his compliment (above) annoyed him (74):
“I decided I had better not go to the cave after all. Suppose he should call for help?” (76).
Ann is somewhat dishonest when she ignores Loomis’s concern that she might run away, responding only, “Are you all right?” (83). At this point, Ann seems genuinely worried about Loomis’s condition, and she wishes she’d made a mistake with his radiation meter: “Oh, I hoped I had read it wrong! I had never hoped anything so much” (83). Yet, by ignoring completely Loomis’s concern, she seems to be denying the reality of her fear a short time before. Not only does she neglect to reassure him she will not leave, she doesn’t even acknowledge to herself in her diary whether Loomis’s concern is warranted or not. She completely avoids the issue for the moment, as if just not wanting to think about it.
8.4: Ann admits deceiving herself about store supplies: “The truth was, now that the tractor was running
I could face a fact that I had previously tried to keep out of my mind, it being too depressing to dwell on: the store was an illusion. It seemed, especially at first, like an endless supply of almost everything I needed. But in fact I knew it was not” (94). Ann admits trying to ignore the fact that most store supplies won’t keep indefinitely and seeds are losing fertility each year. What’s important to note here is that SHE IGNORES FACTS THAT SHE FEELS UNCOMFORTABLE THINKING ABOUT. She deceives herself about reality if it makes her feel better.
8) Ann is dishonest with herself and Loomis (continued):
8.5: When Loomis’s fever starts and he says sympathetically, “Poor Ann Burden,” she again tells herself that she cannot tell him about her hopes of marriage, children, and saving the human race: “How could I tell him about the apple tree, about what I had thought that morning while I picked the flowers and the poke greens? How I felt when I plowed the field? It all seemed remote now and out of place; it made me sad to think about it” (101). This could again be an instance of Ann deceiving herself about what is appropriate or possible because of her discomfort expressing romantic feelings directly. But it is also just a case of irrational thinking, or basing her judgments on feelings of the moment. In fact, it could HELP Loomis greatly to tell him of her hopes for their future together, since it would give him HOPES that would strengthen his will to live.
8.6: Instead of expressing useful hopes for their future, Ann expresses a useless regret: “I wish I had warned you when you...went swimming in that creek” (101). In saying this, Ann seems dishonest with both herself and Loomis. She is dishonest with herself because she ignores the fact that only Loomis’s sickness enabled her to overcome her fear of him—because her fear of being alone if he died was greater than her fear he might enslave her. If Loomis had NOT become sick, Ann would probably still be hiding in her cave!
On the other hand, Ann seems dishonest to Loomis because she is expressing her feelings for him only indirectly—as guilt for not helping him, rather than as desire for companionship. What Ann fails to see is that SHE IS MAKING THE SAME MISTAKE AGAIN. Just as she suppressed her desire to run to him when he first called out, she now suppresses her hopes they can marry. She again suppresses her desire for companionship, seemingly afraid to express this hope directly even to the only other person she’s ever likely to meet.
8.7: After Ann hears Loomis’s nightmares about killing Edward, she starts to worry “he may be a murderer” (120). Readers should realize this is a foolish worry for several obvious reasons: (1) the circumstances of the war and Loomis’s fear for his own survival should make Ann sympathize with him; (2) Ann already likes Loomis enough based on her own experiences with him that she hopes to marry him; (3) Loomis is probably the last man she will ever meet, so she should be sympathetic towards him if she has any desire for human companionship; (4) the nightmares themselves suggest he is NOT a murderer, but a man driven to kill out of fear for his own life and then traumatized by the experience; and (5) it is pointless to worry about what happened in the lab because SHE CANNOT KNOW and there’s nothing to be gained from sympathizing more with a dead man than with Loomis, who is still alive and can be a companion to her. Ann even recognizes most of these reasons (except the last two).
In terms of dishonesty, though, what’s important to note is that Ann decides to keep her knowledge of Loomis’s nightmares secret: “I keep wondering. If he lives and becomes conscious again—should I ask him about it? He obviously did not want to tell what happened, since in his own story of the laboratory, and the suit, and his trip to Chicago he never mentioned Edward at all. And yet it would be hard, with only two of us, for me to know this secret and try to hide it. I will have to decide” (128).
The answer to Ann’s question is that OF COURSE SHE SHOULD TALK TO HIM ABOUT IT. She has heard his private thoughts and found out something he apparently wasn’t ready to discuss. There is nothing inherently wrong with him wanting to keep something to himself. Ann does it also, for example in keeping the cave a secret and not telling him her hopes to get married. However, Ann has no right to know Loomis's private thoughts or sit in judgment of him based on this small glimpse of his mind. It is a violation of his privacy, and as unjust as it would be for Loomis to look at one thing in Ann’s diary (e.g., her concern about what to wear while she’s in hiding) and judge her a complete fool. Obviously, she SHOULD be honest about what she knows and give him the chance to explain his own point of view as only he can do.
8.8: When Loomis recovers enough to speak for the first time and says he heard Ann play the piano, Ann feels like hugging him but instead just sits by the bed and says with little feeling, “Yes. I didn’t know if you could hear” (137). Here, Ann is again dishonest with Loomis about her feelings. She is joyful about his recovery and feels affection for him, but she refrains from showing it by hugging him as she wishes. When she first thought of marrying him, she decided, “We would talk about it when he had finally recovered” (81). Now he is beginning to recover, but she still keeps her feelings hidden. It is characteristic of Ann’s behavior that she is generally very reluctant to show her feelings even when she has a strong impulse to do so.
Of course there are other factors which influence her decisions, but she invariably decides to keep her feelings to herself, as
if this is what she is most comfortable doing. Other factors seem to simply afford her with excuses for continuing to stay withdrawn in her own imaginative world in which she seems to control the narrative of her life. As Loomis is recovering, one new factor that seems to influence her reserve is her worry
about the killing of Edward, her knowledge of which is another important matter she decides to keep secret.
Evidence Ann is an Unreliable Narrator
Posted August 9, 2011 at Teachnology
8) Ann is dishonest with herself and Loomis (continued):
8.9: Ann also seems dishonest in her description of Loomis’s annoyance that she went to church three times but didn’t plant the corn. First, she claims she didn’t do the planting because she was “too worried” about him while he was feverish and delirious, so she “didn’t dare leave” (142). But this is untrue, since she left him sometimes to do chores and go to church. When Loomis asks, perhaps in
disbelief, “You mean you never left the house?” Ann admits that she went to church three times. Before writing of this admission, Ann notes, “Then I made a mistake,” as if it were just a tactical error she admitted something that would upset Loomis—in Ann’s view, unreasonably. However, Loomis is NOT
upset merely because she went to church but because she used worries about him as an excuse to neglect important planting, yet still managed to go to church three times to ease her worries. In other words, he is angry because she had no good reason for not planting the corn. This is also an example of Ann’s impracticality because of placing more importance on her worries than practical matters that need constant attention.
Ann’s claim she “didn’t dare leave” Loomis is dishonest. Also, her representation of his annoyance as
unreasonable seems either dishonest or just mistaken, since he is right that if she could leave him to go to church, she should have been able to leave him to do planting.
8.10: After listening for three days to Loomis’s efforts to walk, on the fourth day Ann hears him walking cautiously but restrains an urge to run in and applaud, thinking, “But I decided if he wanted my approval he would have called me” (147). Ann seems dishonest with herself here because she imagines she is restraining her feelings out of concern for Loomis’s wishes, though in fact IT IS NORMAL FOR HER TO HIDE HER FEELINGS. It is also silly of her to assume that she should only show her happiness about the progress of Loomis’s recovery if he asks her to! She is simply making another excuse for NOT showing how she feels.
She is then dishonest again when she carries a breakfast try to him and says with pretended uncertainty and disinterest, “I thought I heard you walking” (147). She pretends to be unsure even though she heard “quite unmistakably” the sound of cautious steps. Loomis’s response shows how wrong Ann is in her
assumptions: “He looked up without expression and said, ‘It’s something I have to do’“ (147). Loomis DOESN’T CARE if Ann hears him walking or not, and he doesn’t feel foolish at all about his difficulties—it’s even ridiculous to think he should! He is simply doing what he must—trying to regain his strength
and mobility.
The truth is that only Ann thinks Loomis looks foolish. The first time he falls while trying to walk, ANN STANDS IN THE DOORWAY
WATCHING WITH AMUSEMENT AS HE STRUGGLES PAINFULLY TO GET UP AND THEN FALLS AGAIN (144-145). It is then that Loomis tells her with understandable annoyance, “Just don’t stand and watch” (145), and Ann mistakenly assumes, “He felt foolish—I could understand that” (145). Ann assumes Loomis feels about his own behavior the same way SHE feels about it. But the one who really looks foolish is Ann, who thinks it’s funny when a man recovering from a near-fatal illness falls down “like a comedian” while trying to walk (145). In that situation, Ann should have apologized for just watching Loomis struggle and fall instead of offering help sooner.
Ann’s little pretenses may seem innocuous, but they are not. Even though Loomis’s words and behavior can be interpreted as reasonable, Ann assumes he is vain or oversensitive, and she presumes to understand his thoughts (e.g., “Probably he felt foolish”) instead of ASKING what he thinks or pressing her own thoughts and feelings honestly (146). In adopting pretenses like this (e.g., pretending not to care that he is walking), she assumes the superior manner of controlling what she tells Loomis in order to avoid upsetting him, as if he were childishly temperamental. This dishonesty allows Ann to believe what she wishes without actually confirming her beliefs are correct by talking to Loomis frankly. It also gives her an excuse for keeping her feelings to herself, as she generally prefers to do.
Ann seems to try to maintain an illusion of control in her relationship with Loomis by withholding information from him and presuming to understand more about him than he realizes (e.g., knowing he
killed Edward and he feels foolish that he can’t walk). Later, she similarly presumes incorrectly that Loomis’s behavior is caused by a desire to be in control.
8) Ann is dishonest with herself and Loomis (continued):
8.11: Ann seems either incredibly stupid or dishonest with herself when she asks to borrow the safe-suit and then writes how surprised she was by Loomis’s annoyance: “I could hardly believe how annoyed that made him” (149).
Before explaining both his scolding of her for not planting corn and his annoyance at her wanting to borrow the safe-suit, Ann introduces these diary entries by saying, “he did two surprising things” (141). Then, before describing their discussion about the suit, she writes, “I said the wrong thing again” (149). Again and again, Ann implies that Loomis is oversensitive, and it is difficult for her to anticipate what words might “unreasonably” upset him.
But if Ann is truly surprised by Loomis’s reaction, she must be very foolish indeed. She already knows Loomis killed Edward over the suit and still has terrified nightmares about this incident. In one case, she saw him get his gun and shoot three times at an upstairs window, fearing Edward was there (107). She has observed, “Sometimes he acts as if he thinks I am Edward” (111); so she already knows he can identify her with the one who tried to steal the suit before. Finally, Ann seems aware of this danger the first time she imagines using the suit to get novels in Ogdentown: “And that thought brought me back to Edward, with a jolt” (132). Clearly, Ann KNOWS the suit is important enough to Loomis that he killed a man over it, and she KNOWS he might think of her the same way as Edward if she tries to use it. The best explanation for Ann’s behavior is that SHE INTENTIONALLY IGNORES WHAT SHE KNOWS IN ORDER TO BELIEVE WHAT SHE WISHES. Ann wants to believe it should be okay for her to borrow the suit because she is very excited about the idea of getting more books for pleasure-reading. Thus, she admits, “I should have known, I guess, having heard him dreaming when he was sick, and the way he talked to Edward” (149). Yes, OF COURSE she should have known!!
What readers should notice is Ann’s reluctance to admit obvious facts. Thus, when she admits she should have known, she says, “I guess.” But is this a matter she really needs to GUESS about?! Isn’t there enough evidence of Loomis’s attitude about the suit for her to KNOW quite well what to expect?!
Ann understates or denies the facts every time she admits Loomis was right. For example, she admits, “of course, what he said was true. I could live without novels” (150). But then right afterwards, she says, “So, though I can see that it is not too practical, especially from Mr. Loomis’s point of view, I will continue to hope...if he goes to get technical books he may slip in at least one or two books for me to read. That may be a less offensive idea” (151). Ann’s concluding remarks show that (1) she doesn’t accept how impractical her suggestion was; (2) she thinks their disagreement is largely a matter of opinion (i.e., different points of view); and (3) the main problem is that Loomis finds the suggestion “offensive”—due to being overly protective of the suit.
In fact, Loomis is entirely correct when he says, “The idea of taking [the suit] to get some novels—it’s too foolish to consider” (150). Ann’s suggestion is incredibly foolish for multiple reasons: (1) she ignores Loomis’s traumatic experiences protecting the suit; (2) she proposes venturing out with it into the dead lands for a completely impractical purpose; (3) she doesn’t know how to use the suit correctly; and (4) her foolish impulsiveness and shortsightedness show that she probably should not be trusted with it even if she could be instructed about how to use it.
Ann’s inability to accept any of these facts suggests that she is deceiving herself about what is reasonable in order to justify her own desires and believe what she wishes.
8.12: While wanting to use the suit and viewing Loomis as overly possessive of it, Ann is also dishonest with herself in thinking Loomis's imagined possessiveness caused his conflict with Edward.
She writes, “That is what Edward had been up against...Yet I could not argue. After all, it was his suit” (150). This is a dishonest way of thinking about the conflict between Edward and Loomis because, as Ann realized earlier, Loomis acted in self-defense and he could have been thinking of the suit’s importance for humanity’s survival: “In a way, it was self-defense....Edward was, when he tried to steal the suit, threatening to kill him. Also,....[Mr. Loomis] may have been thinking not just of himself, but of human survival” (126-127).
Ann now completely forgets the reasons why killing Edward was justifiable, choosing to assume that he was merely possessive of the suit. Moreover, SHE DOESN’T MAKE THIS ASSUMPTION BECAUSE OF NEW EVIDENCE OF LOOMIS’S MOTIVES, BUT BECAUSE SHE WANTS TO USE THE SUIT HERSELF.
It is worth noting also that, like Edward, Ann wishes to use the suit only for a self-interested purpose (i.e., to get books for pleasure-reading). She sympathizes with Edward because Loomis is preventing her from using the suit for her own selfish purposes, just as he prevented Edward from doing so!
8) Ann is dishonest with herself and Loomis (continued):
8.13: Another example of Ann keeping facts to herself, or not admitting the truth, is when Loomis blames her for not planting beets and wheat, guessing she has relied too much on store supplies.
When Loomis first asks about beets and wheat, Ann starts to defend her actions by saying she had not planned on growing beets and many other vegetables because she “could only plant and cultivate so much” (151). However, as she notes in her diary, “when I had made my plans, I had not counted on the tractor” (152). Since Ann has been able to use the tractor for about 20 days (since June 2nd), she is ignoring the fact that her original plans are irrelevant. It seems she is just trying to justify herself, using plans made before Loomis’s arrival as an excuse even though the situation changed afterwards.
Ann also notes in her diary, “There were seeds for all of them [the unplanted vegetables] in the store” (151), but she neglects to mention her earlier concern that few seeds will germinate after one
more season because they will be 3 years old (95, 140). It is likely she does not wish to think about this problem now because it suggests Loomis is right and Ann has been negligent.
As Ann starts to explain her original plans (which are now irrelevant), Loomis interrupts her to explain they must make long-term plans so they can someday use beets to make sugar and wheat to make flour (151). He then guesses that Ann foolishly relied too much on store supplies: “I know what you’re thinking...There’s plenty of sugar in the store...But when it’s gone—what then? You see, that’s foolish and shortsighted” (152).
In fact, Loomis is RIGHT about Ann’s thinking. In her June 3rd diary entry, Ann admits deceiving herself that store supplies would last a long time: “The truth was, now that the tractor was running I could face a fact that I had previously tried to keep out of my mind, it being too depressing to dwell on: the store was an illusion. It seemed, especially at first, like an endless supply of almost everything I needed” (94). Yet, when Loomis correctly guesses Ann’s shortsighted thinking about the store, SHE DOESN’T ADMIT HER MISTAKE EVEN IN HER DIARY. SHE ALSO DOESN’T ADMIT WORRYING THAT SEEDS IN THE STORE ARE LOSING FERTILITY. She focuses instead on how “edgy” Loomis’s voice is, and how the way he talks about starting a colony makes her feel “uneasy” (152).
Readers should also notice the logical inconsistency between Ann’s thoughts and actions: Ann was aware on June 3rd that seeds in the store needed to be planted because few would remain fertile after one more year (95, 140). So why didn’t she plant more seeds after she was able to use the tractor? Not for any good reason.
The next day, June 23rd, Ann explains to Loomis that she hadn’t planned to grow wheat because she "had no way to mill it for flour” (155). What she says here about her plans is true, since on June 3rd she noted this was her reason for planting corn instead of wheat. The problem is that her reasoning is foolishly shortsighted again: she knows wheat seeds are losing fertility (so the species could be lost if new seeds aren’t harvested); yet she still decides NOT to plant wheat simply because it is not useful to her at the moment. Loomis of course recognizes Ann’s shortsightedness, saying, “That’s not important...When I get well enough...we can learn how to mill it. The important thing is not to let the species die out” (155). Loomis is absolutely right.
Ann notes, “I admit that it is a sensible idea [to plant wheat and beets]” (154), but SHE DOES NOT ADMIT HOW SHORTSIGHTED HER OWN PLANS WERE. Rather, she seems more concerned with defending her own good judgment, responding defensively to Loomis’s idea of breeding more cattle, “I had planned that, at least, from the beginning” (153). It is reassuring not to be found negligent or shortsighted on all counts.
8) Ann is dishonest with herself and Loomis (continued):
8.14: Again, Ann also seems either dishonest with herself or self-deluded when she begins explaining the awkward handholding incident by saying, “What happened...is, I suppose, partly my own fault” (156). In fact, it seems ENTIRELY her fault—the result of her nervousness and dishonesty (as I’ll explain
shortly).
8.15: Explaining her concern that she doesn’t know enough about Loomis’s life and character, Ann is dishonest in describing her thoughts about him until now:
“I had realized that I did not know him at all. When he had first come, I had been so excited and
apprehensive about the presence of any other person that I did not think too much about who Mr. Loomis was; he had seemed attractive and friendly. But since his recovery, I had felt that I did not understand him at all” (156).
First, it is NOT TRUE that Ann doesn’t know Loomis at all. She claims he gave her only “the barest account” of his past, but he told her as much as would normally be explained to someone who doesn’t have the same background and interests. If he told her many details about his education or work, Ann probably wouldn’t understand or be interested.
However, his education, work, and experiences since the war are NOT what Ann really wants to know about. If she were more honest, perhaps she’d explain she’s really interested in his personal life and particularly his relationships with other women. But it is NOT normal for people to discuss past romances early in a relationship, and some couples never discuss them at all. Also, Loomis may have been too focused on his studies and work to have experienced much romance. This could be suggested when Ann first plays piano and he compliments her by saying, “This is the best evening I ever spent” (74).
Secondly, Ann knows a great deal about Loomis just from her own experiences with him, and this is generally the main way people learn about one another’s character. Moreover, a person’s behavior in a crisis is generally understood to be very revealing of their character, and Ann has seen Loomis’s behavior not only in the aftermath of a nuclear holocaust but after his exposure to a possibly lethal dose of radiation. Ann has had opportunities to notice the following: he has a “nice” voice (23); he seems “attractive and friendly” (156); he remains very calm and rational even in the face of death (52); he admits his own mistakes and forgives others theirs even when he suffers as a result (e.g., admitting
that his poisoning was his own fault and forgiving Ann for not warning him) (102); he can be very helpful (e.g., knowing how to get gas and design a hydroelectric generator); and he is more practical than Ann at long-term planning (e.g., insisting on planting wheat and beets to save seeds). Also, he
shares Ann’s desire to have children and try to keep the human race from dying (96, 152).
What else does Ann NEED to know? Three weeks earlier at the start of June, she thought she knew him enough to think of marrying him. Suddenly, “since his recovery” (156), Ann has felt increasingly that she doesn’t know him enough. The most likely causes of this sudden concern are (1) her knowledge that Loomis killed a man and (2) the increasing unease Ann has felt since Loomis began thinking of the valley as his home also and taking charge of planning for their future.
Thirdly, Ann misrepresents her original attitude about Loomis. She says she was “excited and apprehensive about the presence of any other person,” and she just thought him “attractive and friendly,” as if she was too quick to like Loomis despite not knowing him well. This description of herself is almost completely false because she emphasizes her positive impressions while describing her fears only briefly with the one word “apprehensive” (suggesting perhaps a slight unspecific
worry?). But the truth is that Ann was so frightened of being controlled by a stronger man that she hid in the hills from him (even though he looked “poetic” and called out in a friendly manner that tempted her to run to him); and she only dared to approach him when he seemed in danger of dying.
It is also false that she “did not think too much about who Mr. Loomis was.” It was because of worries he might be cruel or a murderer that she hid in the hills. In fact, she worried too much about WHO he was, to the extent that she was afraid of his BAD character before she had any evidence of it and then even when she had good impressions about him.
8) Ann is dishonest with herself and Loomis (continued):
8.16: It is unethical of Ann to dishonestly hide from Loomis that she knows he killed Edward. The wrongness of this is even suggested by Ann’s feeling that it is wrong to eavesdrop. Thus, she feels it would be wrong for her to hide knowing of Loomis’s efforts to walk, which she thinks are "secretive" (146): “that left me as an eavesdropper...and, not wanting to feel sneaky, I thought I should let him know” (147). If Ann feels sneaky about eavesdropping on Loomis as he practiced walking, surely she SHOULD feel much sneakier to have eavesdropped on his nightmares and learned he killed a man--a much more significant act, and one that he clearly wants to keep to himself at present. (By the way, it is
not wrong of him to do this, since that experience was part of his life before he met Ann and is not her business.)
In addition, it is a great instance of DRAMATIC IRONY when Ann claims in her diary that she wants to know Loomis better, but at the same time she decides NOT to ever talk with him about Edward—a matter that bothers her greatly and which she thinks is very important for understanding Loomis's character:
“I did not believe we could go on forever as strangers, knowing as little about each other. I did not want to discuss the thing about Edward (I decided probably not ever) nor the laboratory, but wanted to get him talking about the times before that” (157).
So this is Ann's brilliant plan for getting to know Loomis better: she will AVOID discussing an issue that gives her serious doubts about his character, and she'll instead ask him about completely uncontroversial matters that tell her nothing of importance, such as where his cousin's family lived!! As for the important matter of Edward, she will just decide on her own what to think it means and not bother asking Loomis for his point of view.
8.17A: Ann’s claim to want to know Loomis better also seems dishonest with herself, or self-deluded, since it is evident that she does NOT really want to understand him, as she claims--i.e., in order to be comfortable with him as a life-long partner. Rather, it seems she is mainly just fishing for evidence that he might be crazy or mentally disturbed because of his terrible experiences and sickness. Apprently, her increasing unease is making her question whether she wants to be his partner, so she is looking for
evidence to justify these doubts.
Background (Ann’s thoughts about Loomis until now):
At this point in the story, some readers fail to understand that at Ann must be assuming she and Loomis are becoming a couple. Her concern about not knowing Loomis enough has to be understood in this context: she thinks they cannot go on living together "forever" if she does not know him better. It is important here to keep in mind the development of Ann's thoughts about Loomis. At the start of his sickness, she writes explicitly of hopes they can get married, have children, and save the human race together (thoughts she has near the apple tree and while plowing) (81, 96). During his sickness, she does not write of these hopes. She says she will not talk about them with Loomis until he gets better, and she is very worried he might die. However, she also learns that Loomis killed Edward, and she starts worrying a lot that "he may be a murderer" (120). After Loomis recovers, Ann feels increasingly uneasy when he scolds her for not planting corn, is very annoyed by her wish to borrow the safe-suit, and lectures her about the need to plant wheat. When he scolds her, she thinks he uses the same tone of voice that he had used with Edward in nightmares (141). Finally, just before Ann writes of wanting to know Loomis better, he tells her they must plan to start a colony, and Ann understands, "It was the same thought, or nearly the same, as the one I had had when I was plowing” (152). This means ANN KNOWS LOOMIS IS THINKING OF THEM AS A COUPLE WHO WILL HAVE CHILDREN AND POSSIBLY SAVE
THE HUMAN RACE FROM EXTINCTION. Furthermore, because she does not object to these plans either to Loomis or in her diary, she must either accept them or at least consider them possible.
[B]When Loomis speaks of them starting a colony, and Ann realizes his plans are similar to her hopes while plowing, it seems a perfect occasion to share with him her hope that they can marry (which she planned to tell him about after his recovery). But she doesn't tell him of this, and she doesn't even write explicitly about it in her diary again. When she describes his plan to start a colony, she even writes, "Yet his saying it, or the way he said it, made me feel uneasy" (152). It appears that Ann's increasing unease with Loomis is making her have doubts about him as a long-term partner to such an extent that she does not even admit to herself in her diary that she has thought of him that way. And when Loomis confronts her with a direct question, she cannot admit to him, either, that she has thought of them being a couple.
8) Ann is dishonest with herself and Loomis (continued):
Ann’s claimed purpose and probable motives:
Before describing her questions to Loomis about his past, Ann states repeatedly that she does not know him enough, finally saying, "I did not believe we could go on forever as strangers, knowing as little about each other" (157). Having no experience with such conversations, she thought of what people say in books and movies when they first meet, such as, "Tell me all about yourself" (157). Thus, the way Ann describes her intentions, it seems is if she mainly wants to improve their relationship by getting to know Loomis better.
However, other more specific motives are suggested both by her theories about Loomis's supposedly increased reserve and also by their conversation. First, Ann explains her two theories that Loomis might be "more reserved" than before because his horrible experiences since the war "had blotted out everything else in his mind" and/or "his sickness...may have done something to him" (157). She worries, "the temperature [of his fever] might even have changed parts of his mind" (157). The assumption that Loomis has become abnormal in his thinking lies behind her claims of wanting to know him better, as is suggested in her sentence, “Yet, whatever the cause [of the change to Loomis], I did not believe we could go on forever as strangers...” (157). She implies that she must overcome Loomis's strange reserve in order to be comfortable with him.
Readers should be able to recognize that both of Ann's theories about Loomis are ridiculous. He is
able to remember his experiences before the war perfectly well; he is just not interested in talking about them, probably thinking they are not relevant now. As for being mentally disturbed somehow, Loomis shows he is astute about Ann's thoughts and more sensible than her at long-term planning. Moreover, his worries about their future provide a far more reasonable explanation for his apparent reserve: he is simply preoccupied with planning.
Readers should also notice the great DRAMATIC IRONY when Ann worries about Loomis's reserve
despite the fact that SHE IS FAR MORE RESERVED THAN HE IS! It is really a case of the pot calling the kettle black! Again and again, Ann is afraid to show her feelings to Loomis, beginning when she restrained herself from running to him when he called out a greeting. She wants to marry him, but she won't tell him till he recovers. She wants to hug him when he gets better, but she restrains herself. She knows he is thinking of her as a partner, but she still doesn't tell him about hoping to get married. She worries about his killing Edward, but she decides not to talk to him about it. She feels uneasy when he tells her what to do on the farm, but she doesn't even consider telling him. The huge irony of her worry about Loomis's reserve is particularly shown when, after her series of inane and irrelevant questions about his past life, Loomis confronts her with ONE direct question about her thoughts right now, and Ann can't handle it!
Thus, although Ann CLAIMS she just wants to know Loomis better, it seems her main motive is to justify her growing unease by finding evidence Loomis is abnormally reserved and doesn't want to tell her about himself. Ann is AGAIN looking for reasons NOT to trust Loomis and express her feelings openly. Once more, she is justifying her own fear and inhibition--this time, ironically, by attributing her own shortcoming to Loomis, believing twistedly that it HIS FAULT they don't talk enough and know each other better.
It is not credible that Ann really wants to get to know Loomis or encourage him to be more friendly, since her questions show that she is NOT really interested in him and she makes no effort at being friendly herself.
Ann’s questions (more like an interrorgation):
Ann started by asking if anyone in Loomis’s family played the piano, if his family was poor, and where a cousin lived whose mother played the piano. When the conversation lagged, she then asked what he did before Cornell. After he replied simply that he went to school and worked in summers like everyone else, she asked, “Is that all?” So he added that he served four years in the navy. Ann asked if he was on a ship and where he sailed, but Loomis explained he worked in a naval ordnance lab where he "got started in plastics,” at which Ann “saw the conversation steering in a circle,” ending with his application to Cornell Grad School (158).
It is
ridiculous of Ann to imagine this was a real effort to get to know Loomis, and
it is very unfair (as well as hypocritical) to blame him for seeming
"determined to be uninteresting and untalkative" (158).
Ann's questions were all very banal ones about dull facts of his past life. It was hardly possible for him to give interesting answers or elaborate further. For instance, after explaining his answer about where his cousin lived, Ann complains, "He did not elaborate, and the conversation lagged since I knew
nothing about Nyack, New York” (158). How could he elaborate about where his cousin lived?! In any case, how would any descriptions of Nyack or his cousin’s family help Ann to know Loomis better? Moreover, if Ann felt unable to contribute to the conversation because she "knew nothing about Nyack," she probably felt the same way about topics such as the navy, chemistry work, and Cornell. Thus, she apparently had nothing to say about anything Loomis told her.
The simple fact is that Loomis's answers were uninteresting to Ann because SHE CHOSE TO ASK HIM UNINTERESTING QUESTIONS ABOUT THINGS SHE DIDN'T REALLY CARE ABOUT.
There are many questions Ann could have asked if she were really interested in Loomis. For instance, she never asked if he had siblings, what his parents did, where he grew up, what his childhood was like, where he has travelled, or why he first became interested in science. Also, if she were really interested in them getting to know EACH OTHER better, she should have shared something about herself, explaining some of her experiences, interests, and hopes for her future. Thus, when Ann writes, “It seemed hopeless, and I should have given up” (159), SHE SHOULD BE BLAMING HER OWN RESERVE AND SMALL EFFORT AT COMMUNICATION rather than Loomis’s direct answers to her simple and mundane questions.
8.9: Ann also seems dishonest in her description of Loomis’s annoyance that she went to church three times but didn’t plant the corn. First, she claims she didn’t do the planting because she was “too worried” about him while he was feverish and delirious, so she “didn’t dare leave” (142). But this is untrue, since she left him sometimes to do chores and go to church. When Loomis asks, perhaps in
disbelief, “You mean you never left the house?” Ann admits that she went to church three times. Before writing of this admission, Ann notes, “Then I made a mistake,” as if it were just a tactical error she admitted something that would upset Loomis—in Ann’s view, unreasonably. However, Loomis is NOT
upset merely because she went to church but because she used worries about him as an excuse to neglect important planting, yet still managed to go to church three times to ease her worries. In other words, he is angry because she had no good reason for not planting the corn. This is also an example of Ann’s impracticality because of placing more importance on her worries than practical matters that need constant attention.
Ann’s claim she “didn’t dare leave” Loomis is dishonest. Also, her representation of his annoyance as
unreasonable seems either dishonest or just mistaken, since he is right that if she could leave him to go to church, she should have been able to leave him to do planting.
8.10: After listening for three days to Loomis’s efforts to walk, on the fourth day Ann hears him walking cautiously but restrains an urge to run in and applaud, thinking, “But I decided if he wanted my approval he would have called me” (147). Ann seems dishonest with herself here because she imagines she is restraining her feelings out of concern for Loomis’s wishes, though in fact IT IS NORMAL FOR HER TO HIDE HER FEELINGS. It is also silly of her to assume that she should only show her happiness about the progress of Loomis’s recovery if he asks her to! She is simply making another excuse for NOT showing how she feels.
She is then dishonest again when she carries a breakfast try to him and says with pretended uncertainty and disinterest, “I thought I heard you walking” (147). She pretends to be unsure even though she heard “quite unmistakably” the sound of cautious steps. Loomis’s response shows how wrong Ann is in her
assumptions: “He looked up without expression and said, ‘It’s something I have to do’“ (147). Loomis DOESN’T CARE if Ann hears him walking or not, and he doesn’t feel foolish at all about his difficulties—it’s even ridiculous to think he should! He is simply doing what he must—trying to regain his strength
and mobility.
The truth is that only Ann thinks Loomis looks foolish. The first time he falls while trying to walk, ANN STANDS IN THE DOORWAY
WATCHING WITH AMUSEMENT AS HE STRUGGLES PAINFULLY TO GET UP AND THEN FALLS AGAIN (144-145). It is then that Loomis tells her with understandable annoyance, “Just don’t stand and watch” (145), and Ann mistakenly assumes, “He felt foolish—I could understand that” (145). Ann assumes Loomis feels about his own behavior the same way SHE feels about it. But the one who really looks foolish is Ann, who thinks it’s funny when a man recovering from a near-fatal illness falls down “like a comedian” while trying to walk (145). In that situation, Ann should have apologized for just watching Loomis struggle and fall instead of offering help sooner.
Ann’s little pretenses may seem innocuous, but they are not. Even though Loomis’s words and behavior can be interpreted as reasonable, Ann assumes he is vain or oversensitive, and she presumes to understand his thoughts (e.g., “Probably he felt foolish”) instead of ASKING what he thinks or pressing her own thoughts and feelings honestly (146). In adopting pretenses like this (e.g., pretending not to care that he is walking), she assumes the superior manner of controlling what she tells Loomis in order to avoid upsetting him, as if he were childishly temperamental. This dishonesty allows Ann to believe what she wishes without actually confirming her beliefs are correct by talking to Loomis frankly. It also gives her an excuse for keeping her feelings to herself, as she generally prefers to do.
Ann seems to try to maintain an illusion of control in her relationship with Loomis by withholding information from him and presuming to understand more about him than he realizes (e.g., knowing he
killed Edward and he feels foolish that he can’t walk). Later, she similarly presumes incorrectly that Loomis’s behavior is caused by a desire to be in control.
8) Ann is dishonest with herself and Loomis (continued):
8.11: Ann seems either incredibly stupid or dishonest with herself when she asks to borrow the safe-suit and then writes how surprised she was by Loomis’s annoyance: “I could hardly believe how annoyed that made him” (149).
Before explaining both his scolding of her for not planting corn and his annoyance at her wanting to borrow the safe-suit, Ann introduces these diary entries by saying, “he did two surprising things” (141). Then, before describing their discussion about the suit, she writes, “I said the wrong thing again” (149). Again and again, Ann implies that Loomis is oversensitive, and it is difficult for her to anticipate what words might “unreasonably” upset him.
But if Ann is truly surprised by Loomis’s reaction, she must be very foolish indeed. She already knows Loomis killed Edward over the suit and still has terrified nightmares about this incident. In one case, she saw him get his gun and shoot three times at an upstairs window, fearing Edward was there (107). She has observed, “Sometimes he acts as if he thinks I am Edward” (111); so she already knows he can identify her with the one who tried to steal the suit before. Finally, Ann seems aware of this danger the first time she imagines using the suit to get novels in Ogdentown: “And that thought brought me back to Edward, with a jolt” (132). Clearly, Ann KNOWS the suit is important enough to Loomis that he killed a man over it, and she KNOWS he might think of her the same way as Edward if she tries to use it. The best explanation for Ann’s behavior is that SHE INTENTIONALLY IGNORES WHAT SHE KNOWS IN ORDER TO BELIEVE WHAT SHE WISHES. Ann wants to believe it should be okay for her to borrow the suit because she is very excited about the idea of getting more books for pleasure-reading. Thus, she admits, “I should have known, I guess, having heard him dreaming when he was sick, and the way he talked to Edward” (149). Yes, OF COURSE she should have known!!
What readers should notice is Ann’s reluctance to admit obvious facts. Thus, when she admits she should have known, she says, “I guess.” But is this a matter she really needs to GUESS about?! Isn’t there enough evidence of Loomis’s attitude about the suit for her to KNOW quite well what to expect?!
Ann understates or denies the facts every time she admits Loomis was right. For example, she admits, “of course, what he said was true. I could live without novels” (150). But then right afterwards, she says, “So, though I can see that it is not too practical, especially from Mr. Loomis’s point of view, I will continue to hope...if he goes to get technical books he may slip in at least one or two books for me to read. That may be a less offensive idea” (151). Ann’s concluding remarks show that (1) she doesn’t accept how impractical her suggestion was; (2) she thinks their disagreement is largely a matter of opinion (i.e., different points of view); and (3) the main problem is that Loomis finds the suggestion “offensive”—due to being overly protective of the suit.
In fact, Loomis is entirely correct when he says, “The idea of taking [the suit] to get some novels—it’s too foolish to consider” (150). Ann’s suggestion is incredibly foolish for multiple reasons: (1) she ignores Loomis’s traumatic experiences protecting the suit; (2) she proposes venturing out with it into the dead lands for a completely impractical purpose; (3) she doesn’t know how to use the suit correctly; and (4) her foolish impulsiveness and shortsightedness show that she probably should not be trusted with it even if she could be instructed about how to use it.
Ann’s inability to accept any of these facts suggests that she is deceiving herself about what is reasonable in order to justify her own desires and believe what she wishes.
8.12: While wanting to use the suit and viewing Loomis as overly possessive of it, Ann is also dishonest with herself in thinking Loomis's imagined possessiveness caused his conflict with Edward.
She writes, “That is what Edward had been up against...Yet I could not argue. After all, it was his suit” (150). This is a dishonest way of thinking about the conflict between Edward and Loomis because, as Ann realized earlier, Loomis acted in self-defense and he could have been thinking of the suit’s importance for humanity’s survival: “In a way, it was self-defense....Edward was, when he tried to steal the suit, threatening to kill him. Also,....[Mr. Loomis] may have been thinking not just of himself, but of human survival” (126-127).
Ann now completely forgets the reasons why killing Edward was justifiable, choosing to assume that he was merely possessive of the suit. Moreover, SHE DOESN’T MAKE THIS ASSUMPTION BECAUSE OF NEW EVIDENCE OF LOOMIS’S MOTIVES, BUT BECAUSE SHE WANTS TO USE THE SUIT HERSELF.
It is worth noting also that, like Edward, Ann wishes to use the suit only for a self-interested purpose (i.e., to get books for pleasure-reading). She sympathizes with Edward because Loomis is preventing her from using the suit for her own selfish purposes, just as he prevented Edward from doing so!
8) Ann is dishonest with herself and Loomis (continued):
8.13: Another example of Ann keeping facts to herself, or not admitting the truth, is when Loomis blames her for not planting beets and wheat, guessing she has relied too much on store supplies.
When Loomis first asks about beets and wheat, Ann starts to defend her actions by saying she had not planned on growing beets and many other vegetables because she “could only plant and cultivate so much” (151). However, as she notes in her diary, “when I had made my plans, I had not counted on the tractor” (152). Since Ann has been able to use the tractor for about 20 days (since June 2nd), she is ignoring the fact that her original plans are irrelevant. It seems she is just trying to justify herself, using plans made before Loomis’s arrival as an excuse even though the situation changed afterwards.
Ann also notes in her diary, “There were seeds for all of them [the unplanted vegetables] in the store” (151), but she neglects to mention her earlier concern that few seeds will germinate after one
more season because they will be 3 years old (95, 140). It is likely she does not wish to think about this problem now because it suggests Loomis is right and Ann has been negligent.
As Ann starts to explain her original plans (which are now irrelevant), Loomis interrupts her to explain they must make long-term plans so they can someday use beets to make sugar and wheat to make flour (151). He then guesses that Ann foolishly relied too much on store supplies: “I know what you’re thinking...There’s plenty of sugar in the store...But when it’s gone—what then? You see, that’s foolish and shortsighted” (152).
In fact, Loomis is RIGHT about Ann’s thinking. In her June 3rd diary entry, Ann admits deceiving herself that store supplies would last a long time: “The truth was, now that the tractor was running I could face a fact that I had previously tried to keep out of my mind, it being too depressing to dwell on: the store was an illusion. It seemed, especially at first, like an endless supply of almost everything I needed” (94). Yet, when Loomis correctly guesses Ann’s shortsighted thinking about the store, SHE DOESN’T ADMIT HER MISTAKE EVEN IN HER DIARY. SHE ALSO DOESN’T ADMIT WORRYING THAT SEEDS IN THE STORE ARE LOSING FERTILITY. She focuses instead on how “edgy” Loomis’s voice is, and how the way he talks about starting a colony makes her feel “uneasy” (152).
Readers should also notice the logical inconsistency between Ann’s thoughts and actions: Ann was aware on June 3rd that seeds in the store needed to be planted because few would remain fertile after one more year (95, 140). So why didn’t she plant more seeds after she was able to use the tractor? Not for any good reason.
The next day, June 23rd, Ann explains to Loomis that she hadn’t planned to grow wheat because she "had no way to mill it for flour” (155). What she says here about her plans is true, since on June 3rd she noted this was her reason for planting corn instead of wheat. The problem is that her reasoning is foolishly shortsighted again: she knows wheat seeds are losing fertility (so the species could be lost if new seeds aren’t harvested); yet she still decides NOT to plant wheat simply because it is not useful to her at the moment. Loomis of course recognizes Ann’s shortsightedness, saying, “That’s not important...When I get well enough...we can learn how to mill it. The important thing is not to let the species die out” (155). Loomis is absolutely right.
Ann notes, “I admit that it is a sensible idea [to plant wheat and beets]” (154), but SHE DOES NOT ADMIT HOW SHORTSIGHTED HER OWN PLANS WERE. Rather, she seems more concerned with defending her own good judgment, responding defensively to Loomis’s idea of breeding more cattle, “I had planned that, at least, from the beginning” (153). It is reassuring not to be found negligent or shortsighted on all counts.
8) Ann is dishonest with herself and Loomis (continued):
8.14: Again, Ann also seems either dishonest with herself or self-deluded when she begins explaining the awkward handholding incident by saying, “What happened...is, I suppose, partly my own fault” (156). In fact, it seems ENTIRELY her fault—the result of her nervousness and dishonesty (as I’ll explain
shortly).
8.15: Explaining her concern that she doesn’t know enough about Loomis’s life and character, Ann is dishonest in describing her thoughts about him until now:
“I had realized that I did not know him at all. When he had first come, I had been so excited and
apprehensive about the presence of any other person that I did not think too much about who Mr. Loomis was; he had seemed attractive and friendly. But since his recovery, I had felt that I did not understand him at all” (156).
First, it is NOT TRUE that Ann doesn’t know Loomis at all. She claims he gave her only “the barest account” of his past, but he told her as much as would normally be explained to someone who doesn’t have the same background and interests. If he told her many details about his education or work, Ann probably wouldn’t understand or be interested.
However, his education, work, and experiences since the war are NOT what Ann really wants to know about. If she were more honest, perhaps she’d explain she’s really interested in his personal life and particularly his relationships with other women. But it is NOT normal for people to discuss past romances early in a relationship, and some couples never discuss them at all. Also, Loomis may have been too focused on his studies and work to have experienced much romance. This could be suggested when Ann first plays piano and he compliments her by saying, “This is the best evening I ever spent” (74).
Secondly, Ann knows a great deal about Loomis just from her own experiences with him, and this is generally the main way people learn about one another’s character. Moreover, a person’s behavior in a crisis is generally understood to be very revealing of their character, and Ann has seen Loomis’s behavior not only in the aftermath of a nuclear holocaust but after his exposure to a possibly lethal dose of radiation. Ann has had opportunities to notice the following: he has a “nice” voice (23); he seems “attractive and friendly” (156); he remains very calm and rational even in the face of death (52); he admits his own mistakes and forgives others theirs even when he suffers as a result (e.g., admitting
that his poisoning was his own fault and forgiving Ann for not warning him) (102); he can be very helpful (e.g., knowing how to get gas and design a hydroelectric generator); and he is more practical than Ann at long-term planning (e.g., insisting on planting wheat and beets to save seeds). Also, he
shares Ann’s desire to have children and try to keep the human race from dying (96, 152).
What else does Ann NEED to know? Three weeks earlier at the start of June, she thought she knew him enough to think of marrying him. Suddenly, “since his recovery” (156), Ann has felt increasingly that she doesn’t know him enough. The most likely causes of this sudden concern are (1) her knowledge that Loomis killed a man and (2) the increasing unease Ann has felt since Loomis began thinking of the valley as his home also and taking charge of planning for their future.
Thirdly, Ann misrepresents her original attitude about Loomis. She says she was “excited and apprehensive about the presence of any other person,” and she just thought him “attractive and friendly,” as if she was too quick to like Loomis despite not knowing him well. This description of herself is almost completely false because she emphasizes her positive impressions while describing her fears only briefly with the one word “apprehensive” (suggesting perhaps a slight unspecific
worry?). But the truth is that Ann was so frightened of being controlled by a stronger man that she hid in the hills from him (even though he looked “poetic” and called out in a friendly manner that tempted her to run to him); and she only dared to approach him when he seemed in danger of dying.
It is also false that she “did not think too much about who Mr. Loomis was.” It was because of worries he might be cruel or a murderer that she hid in the hills. In fact, she worried too much about WHO he was, to the extent that she was afraid of his BAD character before she had any evidence of it and then even when she had good impressions about him.
8) Ann is dishonest with herself and Loomis (continued):
8.16: It is unethical of Ann to dishonestly hide from Loomis that she knows he killed Edward. The wrongness of this is even suggested by Ann’s feeling that it is wrong to eavesdrop. Thus, she feels it would be wrong for her to hide knowing of Loomis’s efforts to walk, which she thinks are "secretive" (146): “that left me as an eavesdropper...and, not wanting to feel sneaky, I thought I should let him know” (147). If Ann feels sneaky about eavesdropping on Loomis as he practiced walking, surely she SHOULD feel much sneakier to have eavesdropped on his nightmares and learned he killed a man--a much more significant act, and one that he clearly wants to keep to himself at present. (By the way, it is
not wrong of him to do this, since that experience was part of his life before he met Ann and is not her business.)
In addition, it is a great instance of DRAMATIC IRONY when Ann claims in her diary that she wants to know Loomis better, but at the same time she decides NOT to ever talk with him about Edward—a matter that bothers her greatly and which she thinks is very important for understanding Loomis's character:
“I did not believe we could go on forever as strangers, knowing as little about each other. I did not want to discuss the thing about Edward (I decided probably not ever) nor the laboratory, but wanted to get him talking about the times before that” (157).
So this is Ann's brilliant plan for getting to know Loomis better: she will AVOID discussing an issue that gives her serious doubts about his character, and she'll instead ask him about completely uncontroversial matters that tell her nothing of importance, such as where his cousin's family lived!! As for the important matter of Edward, she will just decide on her own what to think it means and not bother asking Loomis for his point of view.
8.17A: Ann’s claim to want to know Loomis better also seems dishonest with herself, or self-deluded, since it is evident that she does NOT really want to understand him, as she claims--i.e., in order to be comfortable with him as a life-long partner. Rather, it seems she is mainly just fishing for evidence that he might be crazy or mentally disturbed because of his terrible experiences and sickness. Apprently, her increasing unease is making her question whether she wants to be his partner, so she is looking for
evidence to justify these doubts.
Background (Ann’s thoughts about Loomis until now):
At this point in the story, some readers fail to understand that at Ann must be assuming she and Loomis are becoming a couple. Her concern about not knowing Loomis enough has to be understood in this context: she thinks they cannot go on living together "forever" if she does not know him better. It is important here to keep in mind the development of Ann's thoughts about Loomis. At the start of his sickness, she writes explicitly of hopes they can get married, have children, and save the human race together (thoughts she has near the apple tree and while plowing) (81, 96). During his sickness, she does not write of these hopes. She says she will not talk about them with Loomis until he gets better, and she is very worried he might die. However, she also learns that Loomis killed Edward, and she starts worrying a lot that "he may be a murderer" (120). After Loomis recovers, Ann feels increasingly uneasy when he scolds her for not planting corn, is very annoyed by her wish to borrow the safe-suit, and lectures her about the need to plant wheat. When he scolds her, she thinks he uses the same tone of voice that he had used with Edward in nightmares (141). Finally, just before Ann writes of wanting to know Loomis better, he tells her they must plan to start a colony, and Ann understands, "It was the same thought, or nearly the same, as the one I had had when I was plowing” (152). This means ANN KNOWS LOOMIS IS THINKING OF THEM AS A COUPLE WHO WILL HAVE CHILDREN AND POSSIBLY SAVE
THE HUMAN RACE FROM EXTINCTION. Furthermore, because she does not object to these plans either to Loomis or in her diary, she must either accept them or at least consider them possible.
[B]When Loomis speaks of them starting a colony, and Ann realizes his plans are similar to her hopes while plowing, it seems a perfect occasion to share with him her hope that they can marry (which she planned to tell him about after his recovery). But she doesn't tell him of this, and she doesn't even write explicitly about it in her diary again. When she describes his plan to start a colony, she even writes, "Yet his saying it, or the way he said it, made me feel uneasy" (152). It appears that Ann's increasing unease with Loomis is making her have doubts about him as a long-term partner to such an extent that she does not even admit to herself in her diary that she has thought of him that way. And when Loomis confronts her with a direct question, she cannot admit to him, either, that she has thought of them being a couple.
8) Ann is dishonest with herself and Loomis (continued):
Ann’s claimed purpose and probable motives:
Before describing her questions to Loomis about his past, Ann states repeatedly that she does not know him enough, finally saying, "I did not believe we could go on forever as strangers, knowing as little about each other" (157). Having no experience with such conversations, she thought of what people say in books and movies when they first meet, such as, "Tell me all about yourself" (157). Thus, the way Ann describes her intentions, it seems is if she mainly wants to improve their relationship by getting to know Loomis better.
However, other more specific motives are suggested both by her theories about Loomis's supposedly increased reserve and also by their conversation. First, Ann explains her two theories that Loomis might be "more reserved" than before because his horrible experiences since the war "had blotted out everything else in his mind" and/or "his sickness...may have done something to him" (157). She worries, "the temperature [of his fever] might even have changed parts of his mind" (157). The assumption that Loomis has become abnormal in his thinking lies behind her claims of wanting to know him better, as is suggested in her sentence, “Yet, whatever the cause [of the change to Loomis], I did not believe we could go on forever as strangers...” (157). She implies that she must overcome Loomis's strange reserve in order to be comfortable with him.
Readers should be able to recognize that both of Ann's theories about Loomis are ridiculous. He is
able to remember his experiences before the war perfectly well; he is just not interested in talking about them, probably thinking they are not relevant now. As for being mentally disturbed somehow, Loomis shows he is astute about Ann's thoughts and more sensible than her at long-term planning. Moreover, his worries about their future provide a far more reasonable explanation for his apparent reserve: he is simply preoccupied with planning.
Readers should also notice the great DRAMATIC IRONY when Ann worries about Loomis's reserve
despite the fact that SHE IS FAR MORE RESERVED THAN HE IS! It is really a case of the pot calling the kettle black! Again and again, Ann is afraid to show her feelings to Loomis, beginning when she restrained herself from running to him when he called out a greeting. She wants to marry him, but she won't tell him till he recovers. She wants to hug him when he gets better, but she restrains herself. She knows he is thinking of her as a partner, but she still doesn't tell him about hoping to get married. She worries about his killing Edward, but she decides not to talk to him about it. She feels uneasy when he tells her what to do on the farm, but she doesn't even consider telling him. The huge irony of her worry about Loomis's reserve is particularly shown when, after her series of inane and irrelevant questions about his past life, Loomis confronts her with ONE direct question about her thoughts right now, and Ann can't handle it!
Thus, although Ann CLAIMS she just wants to know Loomis better, it seems her main motive is to justify her growing unease by finding evidence Loomis is abnormally reserved and doesn't want to tell her about himself. Ann is AGAIN looking for reasons NOT to trust Loomis and express her feelings openly. Once more, she is justifying her own fear and inhibition--this time, ironically, by attributing her own shortcoming to Loomis, believing twistedly that it HIS FAULT they don't talk enough and know each other better.
It is not credible that Ann really wants to get to know Loomis or encourage him to be more friendly, since her questions show that she is NOT really interested in him and she makes no effort at being friendly herself.
Ann’s questions (more like an interrorgation):
Ann started by asking if anyone in Loomis’s family played the piano, if his family was poor, and where a cousin lived whose mother played the piano. When the conversation lagged, she then asked what he did before Cornell. After he replied simply that he went to school and worked in summers like everyone else, she asked, “Is that all?” So he added that he served four years in the navy. Ann asked if he was on a ship and where he sailed, but Loomis explained he worked in a naval ordnance lab where he "got started in plastics,” at which Ann “saw the conversation steering in a circle,” ending with his application to Cornell Grad School (158).
It is
ridiculous of Ann to imagine this was a real effort to get to know Loomis, and
it is very unfair (as well as hypocritical) to blame him for seeming
"determined to be uninteresting and untalkative" (158).
Ann's questions were all very banal ones about dull facts of his past life. It was hardly possible for him to give interesting answers or elaborate further. For instance, after explaining his answer about where his cousin lived, Ann complains, "He did not elaborate, and the conversation lagged since I knew
nothing about Nyack, New York” (158). How could he elaborate about where his cousin lived?! In any case, how would any descriptions of Nyack or his cousin’s family help Ann to know Loomis better? Moreover, if Ann felt unable to contribute to the conversation because she "knew nothing about Nyack," she probably felt the same way about topics such as the navy, chemistry work, and Cornell. Thus, she apparently had nothing to say about anything Loomis told her.
The simple fact is that Loomis's answers were uninteresting to Ann because SHE CHOSE TO ASK HIM UNINTERESTING QUESTIONS ABOUT THINGS SHE DIDN'T REALLY CARE ABOUT.
There are many questions Ann could have asked if she were really interested in Loomis. For instance, she never asked if he had siblings, what his parents did, where he grew up, what his childhood was like, where he has travelled, or why he first became interested in science. Also, if she were really interested in them getting to know EACH OTHER better, she should have shared something about herself, explaining some of her experiences, interests, and hopes for her future. Thus, when Ann writes, “It seemed hopeless, and I should have given up” (159), SHE SHOULD BE BLAMING HER OWN RESERVE AND SMALL EFFORT AT COMMUNICATION rather than Loomis’s direct answers to her simple and mundane questions.
Evidence Ann is an Unreliable Narrator (continued)
Posted August 11, 2011 at Teachnology
8) Ann is dishonest with herself and Loomis (continued):
Ann’s real purpose?
As soon as Loomis asked Ann one direct question about her thoughts and feelings, she became nervous and lied to him. (See below.) This one question seems to expose that her claim to want greater understanding is really a pretense or, at best, a half-truth.
Most of Ann's questions to Loomis seem mainly an attempt to prove her theories about his increased reserve. To test if his terrible experiences have "blotted out everything else in his mind" (157), she does not need to ask him interesting questions about his past--even trivial and disconnected ones will suffice. To find evidence he is strangely reserved, banal questions are better because he is more likely to give short answers and show no interest in talking further. Also, if she WANTS to find him "untalkative," she should not tell him anything about herself that might encourage him to ask questions in turn, possibly leading to an actual two-sided conversation instead of Ann's one-sided interrogation.
Of course, when I say Ann "WANTS" Loomis to be untalkative, I mean she is just more comfortable if he is. Subconsciously, she probably always wants to find reasons NOT to express her feelings openly to Loomis, NOT to get close, and NOT to start any real companionship or romance. Ann dreams of romance, but she is deeply afraid of real intimacy and the loss of security it entails. In order to trust Loomis enough to be open and intimate with him, she must give up her familiar safety from being completely independent or alone. She would have to accept his will in some things or make compromises; so she could never again have the security of being completely in control of her life.
Ann is very divided in her mind and deceives herself about her own thoughts and feelings to the extent that she may seem almost schizophrenic at times. In the current situation, she must be aware that Loomis thinks of them being a couple, and she explicitly remembers having similar ideas when she was plowing and contemplating Millay's poem. Though she doesn't say she still feels the same way, she also does not renounce the hopes she had before. Thus, IT IS LIKELY ANN STILL HOPES TO MARRY LOOMIS AND HAVE CHILDREN. But she is as afraid as ever of being controlled by a man, and, since Loomis's recovery, this fear has made her interpret his killing Edward, being protective of the safe-suit, and taking charge of the farm as ominous signs.
Most of Ann's questions to Loomis seem to have been motivated by her fearful suspicions about him, and were thus rooted in her fear of being controlled. She was looking for signs she should continue to play it safe with him.
But when Ann finally asked hesitantly, "But were you ever--did you ever--get married?" (159), it seems
other feelings were at work. Surely, she was much more interested in this question than any of the others she asked. This question relates directly to her current situation of becoming Loomis's partner and possibly marrying him. It is also a typical question that a shy person might ask of someone whom
she/he is attracted to; and, as such, it was a fairly obvious expression of romantic interest.
Therefore, it seems Ann's questions were motivated by confused feelings of both fear of Loomis and hope that they can be a couple. In my view, most of her questions suggest an effort to AVOID real
communication, and were based on her fear that Loomis might be "crazy." But then when she asked if he was ever married, the question expressed a tentative interest in him as a partner--suggesting curiosity about his romantic experiences, whether he ever liked anyone enough to marry her, and what he thinks about marriage. Above all, the question suggests a wish to get married, seeming a roundabout way of asking, "What would you think about marrying ME?" Of course, Ann did not realize how obvious she was.
When Loomis said, "I thought you were coming to that" (159), he probably means he thought all of
Ann's initial questions were awkward attempts to get to know him better in the way Ann thinks couples should do when they first start dating. However, he would likely think it silly of her to approach their relationship in such a conventional way despite the fact that they are probably the last two people in
the world. When Ann then asked if he'd been married, Loomis finally took interest in the conversation because it seemed she was getting to the point. In holding her hand between his and asking her twice, "Why did you ask that?" (159), it seems he was trying to encourage Ann to tell him explicitly about her
hope that they could get married.
Loomis is partly right about Ann's thoughts, of course, since she DOES have a hope they will get married, and she IS concerned about them becoming a couple. But what he probably doesn't understand is Ann's fear of him and her suspicion that he might be mentally unbalanced because of his experiences. Because of her fear, Ann answered him with a lie and now interprets this hand-holding incident as more evidence that Loomis is a threat.
Ann’s real purpose?
As soon as Loomis asked Ann one direct question about her thoughts and feelings, she became nervous and lied to him. (See below.) This one question seems to expose that her claim to want greater understanding is really a pretense or, at best, a half-truth.
Most of Ann's questions to Loomis seem mainly an attempt to prove her theories about his increased reserve. To test if his terrible experiences have "blotted out everything else in his mind" (157), she does not need to ask him interesting questions about his past--even trivial and disconnected ones will suffice. To find evidence he is strangely reserved, banal questions are better because he is more likely to give short answers and show no interest in talking further. Also, if she WANTS to find him "untalkative," she should not tell him anything about herself that might encourage him to ask questions in turn, possibly leading to an actual two-sided conversation instead of Ann's one-sided interrogation.
Of course, when I say Ann "WANTS" Loomis to be untalkative, I mean she is just more comfortable if he is. Subconsciously, she probably always wants to find reasons NOT to express her feelings openly to Loomis, NOT to get close, and NOT to start any real companionship or romance. Ann dreams of romance, but she is deeply afraid of real intimacy and the loss of security it entails. In order to trust Loomis enough to be open and intimate with him, she must give up her familiar safety from being completely independent or alone. She would have to accept his will in some things or make compromises; so she could never again have the security of being completely in control of her life.
Ann is very divided in her mind and deceives herself about her own thoughts and feelings to the extent that she may seem almost schizophrenic at times. In the current situation, she must be aware that Loomis thinks of them being a couple, and she explicitly remembers having similar ideas when she was plowing and contemplating Millay's poem. Though she doesn't say she still feels the same way, she also does not renounce the hopes she had before. Thus, IT IS LIKELY ANN STILL HOPES TO MARRY LOOMIS AND HAVE CHILDREN. But she is as afraid as ever of being controlled by a man, and, since Loomis's recovery, this fear has made her interpret his killing Edward, being protective of the safe-suit, and taking charge of the farm as ominous signs.
Most of Ann's questions to Loomis seem to have been motivated by her fearful suspicions about him, and were thus rooted in her fear of being controlled. She was looking for signs she should continue to play it safe with him.
But when Ann finally asked hesitantly, "But were you ever--did you ever--get married?" (159), it seems
other feelings were at work. Surely, she was much more interested in this question than any of the others she asked. This question relates directly to her current situation of becoming Loomis's partner and possibly marrying him. It is also a typical question that a shy person might ask of someone whom
she/he is attracted to; and, as such, it was a fairly obvious expression of romantic interest.
Therefore, it seems Ann's questions were motivated by confused feelings of both fear of Loomis and hope that they can be a couple. In my view, most of her questions suggest an effort to AVOID real
communication, and were based on her fear that Loomis might be "crazy." But then when she asked if he was ever married, the question expressed a tentative interest in him as a partner--suggesting curiosity about his romantic experiences, whether he ever liked anyone enough to marry her, and what he thinks about marriage. Above all, the question suggests a wish to get married, seeming a roundabout way of asking, "What would you think about marrying ME?" Of course, Ann did not realize how obvious she was.
When Loomis said, "I thought you were coming to that" (159), he probably means he thought all of
Ann's initial questions were awkward attempts to get to know him better in the way Ann thinks couples should do when they first start dating. However, he would likely think it silly of her to approach their relationship in such a conventional way despite the fact that they are probably the last two people in
the world. When Ann then asked if he'd been married, Loomis finally took interest in the conversation because it seemed she was getting to the point. In holding her hand between his and asking her twice, "Why did you ask that?" (159), it seems he was trying to encourage Ann to tell him explicitly about her
hope that they could get married.
Loomis is partly right about Ann's thoughts, of course, since she DOES have a hope they will get married, and she IS concerned about them becoming a couple. But what he probably doesn't understand is Ann's fear of him and her suspicion that he might be mentally unbalanced because of his experiences. Because of her fear, Ann answered him with a lie and now interprets this hand-holding incident as more evidence that Loomis is a threat.