judge, jury, and executioner

As I read the narratives of the characters within Let the Great World Spin, I frequently stopped reading to ponder about my own prejudices towards the various New Yorkers I met. Sometimes it would be a quick pause–a brief second in which I lived through the eyes of a fictional character. Had I ever considered giving the clothes upon my back to those less fortunate, as Corrigan had done even in his youth? Other times I found myself unable to focus on reading for hours. The image of an insignificant human challenging an Almighty God above while suspended on a razor-thin wire from the hell below. What does my own life matter in the grand scheme of things?

Let the Great World Spin doesn’t judge the lives of its characters and teaches abandon our prejudices of others through exposure. That is why I find the narrative of Solomon particularly ironic. Solomon is white. Solomon is wealthy. And Solomon is the only character in the novel whose job is explicitly to judge the character of others. In spite of the power given to him, the novel illustrates how the justice system is flawed. It occurred to me, that like many New Yorkers, Solomon has probably never considered giving up something of personal importance to someone who could use it more. Solomon exists in direct contrast to Corrigan, who though also white and relatively wealthy, has lived his entire life selflessly. Where Solomon sees a future of crime, Corrigan sees the potential for redemption. Where Solomon expects respect and values reputation, Corrigan is humble and suffers beatings from pimps to provide a meager sanctuary for prostitutes. But this irony isn’t what brought me intrigue.

Solomon recognizes that the world of justice and law is far removed from what he originally imagined it to be. While he thought he could make a difference in the world, he has surrendered to the realization that it takes all that he has to keep from drowning in the endless sea of criminals. This is understandable, but what makes angers me is his inability to communicate. He is conservative with regard to his own personal emotions and doesn’t risk sharing his own self with others. It is unlikely that Solomon will ever learn of the sufferings experienced by the impoverished and criminals (unlike his wife Claire, who reaches out to Gloria). He will likely only ever see them as thugs and people up to no good. In refusing to expand his worldview, he becomes part of the problem he originally sought to change: an imperfect justice system. It is this ironic twist of his dream that both saddens and angers me.