Red at the Bone

A lot is packed into Chapter 10, despite it being extremely short.

Firstly, Woodson employs the frequent presence of bones for a distinct use. During lunch at Melody’s school, she disgust watching the White girls in her class eating the reddish meat that’s closest to the chicken bone. Rather than the meat representing raw feelings, it signifies the emotions or information that characters in the novel, principally Melody, are not ready to digest. Interpreting it this way offers foreshadowing into the lasting psychological effects that losing her father will have on Melody. Woodson describes Aubrey’s death with chilling ambiguity, relying on Americans’ memory of the 9/11 attacks to piece together what has happened. Rather than detailing Melody’s realization that a plane has flown into the building her father works in, Woodson zooms out, focusing on the collective American experience. Citizens throughout the country watched the burning buildings crumble, with little knowledge of what actually happened, knowing that this moment would change the world forever.

Chapter 11 follows the revelation of Aubrey’s death with the great tragedy of his life: the one he loves does not love him back. The uneven power dynamic in their relationship only grows more blatant as the years go by, evinced by Aubrey’s own recognition that he would do anything for Iris despite her transparent attempts to escape him and Melody. This chapter offers powerful characterizations of Aubrey, mostly in its allusion to his perceptibility. This speaks to how intuitively her understands Iris, as well as his awareness of how his desire for her controls so much of his behavior. This overwhelming desire is confirmed towards the end of the chapter as Aubrey becomes aroused at the thought of Iris. However, for Aubrey, this passion is connected to a desire for intimacy, an echo of his first sexual encounter.

Another significant part of Chapter 11 is Iris’s analyses of her dream about Cathy Marie. When she claims that Aubrey’s mother in flames represents “some grandiose dream of a future can just…go out” (127), she is touching upon the affects Melody’s birth had of their lives. Iris jokes that it also represents how far she’s fallen from Catholicism, hinting that she sees Melody’s inception as her original sin, one that’s defined her life.

Iris’s focus on the physical aspects of motherhood, through childbirth and post-partum childcare, further emphasize the far-reaching ramifications of her decision to keep Melody, as well as emphasizing the emotional toll these physical demands can have on a person. The irony is that, during the labor, Sabe chants that Iris chose this to motivate her, but it is implied that this was the wrong choice for Iris. This is reinforced immediately after the birth, when Iris looks down at her child and thinks: “What the fuck have I done?” (133). Woodson’s study of the decisions individuals make without fully knowing the consequences is rooted in this moment. Carrying her child to term is clearly as far as Iris had envisioned, and as she looks into Melody’s eyes, she understands the enormity of her decision.

As Iris transitions from pregnancy to motherhood, Woodson employs the motif of body parts and bodily fluids to represent a loss of control. Iris is in pain, sleep-deprived, and literally having life leaking from her. This profound sense of being needed—of another living thing needing to feed on you—is overwhelming even for adult parents who are reasonably prepared. For a 16-year-old who is wondering if she even wants to be a mother, this is more than enough to send her running. And that is exactly what Iris does. As soon as she’s well enough, college becomes her escape plan, her only way to avoid the consequences of her decision. With this part of the narrative, Woodson subverts the traditional paradigm of the teen pregnancy narrative: the mother’s life plan is only mildly altered in that she is still able to pursue education and a career, and it is the father who remains to raise the child.