39 pages • 1 hour read
Eugene O'NeillA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Scene 3 opens in a darkened forest clearing where “nothing can be distinctly made out” (172). The relentless drumbeat has intensified, now beating louder and faster. A clicking sound accompanies the tom-tom every few seconds. In the background, a middle-aged man sits, mechanically rolling dice on the ground.
Jones reflects on the length of his journey as he stops to catch his breath. Growing increasingly anxious due to the approaching islanders, he readies himself to keep moving. However, Jones notices the mysterious clicking sound and rushes into the clearing, afraid of encountering another vision.
Jones sees Jeff, the man sitting in the clearing, and recognizes him from their time working as Pullman porters. He calls out to the man with a mixture of relief and incredulity. However, terror creeps in as he remembers killing Jeff after he cheated on a dice game. Jones now questions whether Jeff is a supernatural entity and, overwhelmed by fear and rage, fires his revolver at him. Jeff vanishes, and Jones, still shaken, compels himself to keep moving.
In Scene 4, Jones stumbles upon a wide dirt road in the forest, his exhaustion evident as he looks around in surprise. He sheds his tattered uniform coat and discards his spurs to relieve his discomfort. The distant beat of the tom-tom drum continues to unsettle him, and he becomes increasingly paranoid about the mysterious forest. He attempts to convince himself that the apparitions were merely products of hunger and exhaustion.
Suddenly, a group of convicts in striped uniforms appears on the road. They are led by the same white prison guard Jones previously admitted to killing. The convicts silently work on the road with mechanical, hypnotic movements. The guard, crackling his whip, orders Jones to join the convicts, and Jones obeys, mimicking the convicts’ actions, though he lacks a shovel.
After the guard strikes him with his whip, Jones tries to hit him with his shovel, only to realize he’s unarmed. He fires his revolver at the guard, causing the forest to close in around him, shrouding everything in darkness. Jones flees with the distant tom-tom beat echoing in the background.
In these scenes Jones is forced to relive the sins of his past but remains unwilling to recognize the harm he has caused in his journey From Subject to Sovereign—it is the fear of facing the consequences of his actions that drives his inner turmoil, not remorse. When Jones encounters Jeff, for instance, he momentarily finds solace in the man’s familiarity, as if he has forgotten that he murdered him. His refusal to accept wrongdoing acts as a psychological defense mechanism that shields Jones from the weight of guilt. However, it also forces him to instinctively repeat the past, first by shooting at Jeff, then by shooting the prison guard. This compulsive repetition of the past sheds light on The Insidious Nature of Power, which not only shields Jones from his crimes but in some way legitimizes them as necessary and irrevocable.
Jones’s journey into the forest reveals the protagonist’s psychological turmoil, where he must confront not only external dangers but also his own mind. As Jones continues to encounter figures from his past, his fear of capture merges with his shock at the haunting visions. Meanwhile, his initial confidence in his invincibility steadily erodes. In hearing the increasingly louder drumbeat, he exclaims: “Dey’s gittin’ near! Dey’s comin’ fast!” (174). This comment signifies his dawning awareness that his power is slipping away and that the islanders could potentially regain control. His hallucinations only serve to intensify his anxiety, revealing a complex mixture of denial and desperation. To regain his composure, Jones attempts to rationalize what he has seen, dismissing his visions as manifestations of a hunger-induced delirium. However, this attempt ultimately proves futile: “Hunger ’fects yo’ head and yo’ eyes. Any fool know dat. But bless God, I don’t come across no more o’ dem, whatever dey is!” (176). His internal conflict, rooted in fear and denial, adds another layer to the narrative, deepening the exploration of Guilt, Fear, and the Fractured Psyche.
O’Neill employs sound and light to immerse the audience in Jones’s disorienting and terrifying journey. In Scene 3, the play plunges the audience into darkness, mirroring Jones’s own experience in the forest. The clicking sound and the spectral figure of Jeff build anticipation and foreboding before Jones has even entered the scene. In Scene 4, O’Neill uses the stark absence of sound to accentuate the apparitions’ unsettling nature, while the figures’ repetitive, mechanical movements enhance the eerie atmosphere. These calculated techniques express Jones’s psychological torment.
Jones’s descent into hallucinatory terror also carries broader thematic implications as it furthers racist beliefs and stereotypes. In these scenes, a notable motif, The Emperor’s Uniform, emerges. Whereas Jones begins the play in clothes befitting his regal status, in Scene 3, Jones’s Panama hat is conspicuously absent, and his once-brilliant uniform bears the scars of the forest, showing several large rents. By Scene 4, he discards his jacket and spurs, exposing himself. This gradual degradation of his attire mirrors his deteriorating mental state and the unraveling of his emperor persona. As his clothes fall apart, so too does his facade of invincibility, leaving him vulnerable to the dangers of the forest.
Jones’s psychological journey is often framed problematically as a return to a more “primitive” way of being. In confronting his wrongdoings through his visions, Jones rids himself of the symbols of his rule and returns to his prior form. The visual connection O’Neill draws between Jones’s torn clothes and the islanders’ attire is also problematic, as it links the characters of color to a shared “primal” state of humanity, implying they are a step down from a “civilized” state. Jones himself echoes this belief when trying to dismiss the hallucinations: “Is you civilized, or is you like dese ign’rent black n*****s heah?” (176). O’Neill suggests that Jones’s “civilized” nature is fraudulent and superficial, reinforcing the racist assumption that Blackness and indigeneity are inherently linked to a lack of civilization.
By Eugene O'Neill