How Symbolism of the Radio and Porch in “The Enormous Radio” by John Cheever and “Their Eyes Were Watching God” by Zora Neale Hurston Emphasize Everyday Injustice in Literature
By Praniti Gulyani
In “The Enormous Radio” by John Cheever, and “Their Eyes Were Watching God” by Zora Neale Hurston, the “radio” and the “porch” serve as effective symbols that depict the societal tying together of lives that are structurally diverse. Despite the differing contexts of the stories, these symbols play an integral role in depicting the “connected separation” between various lives as observed in “Their Eyes Were Watching God” and “separated connection” as shown in “The Enormous Radio” by John Cheever.
To begin with, in “Their Eyes Were Watching God,” the porch has been depicted as a territory—as an almost “otherworld” that emerges after the departure of the sun. Moreover, the individuals on the porch have been addressed by the repetitive, third-person pronouns “These” and “They” as observed in “These sitters had been tongueless, earless, eyeless conveniences all day long.” and “They became lords of sounds and lesser things.” The employment of third-person pronouns play an integral role in defining the individuals on the porch as a collective entity, as opposed to separate people with 
lives and identities of their own. Suffice to say, in the space of the porch, they are a collective entity united by a singular purpose—which is to “sit and judge.”
In “The Enormous Radio,” the converse is observed. As opposed to repetitive, third-person pronouns in “Their Eyes Were Watching God,” the individual differences between the lives of people in “The Enormous Radio” is clearer—and furthered by the prominence of Irene’s ability to differentiate between entangled lives. This is observed in “By listening more carefully, she was able to distinguish doorbells, elevator bells, electric razors, and Waring mixers, whose sounds had been picked up from the apartments that surrounded hers and transmitted through her loudspeaker,” where the employment of catalogues as observed in “doorbells, elevator bells, electric razors, and Waring mixers” indicates the synchronous existence of diverse lives. It is almost as though the author is attempting to indicate how just as doorbells differ from elevator bells—various lives are separate from each other.
Moving on, in the lives that are transmitted through the radio, specific nomenclature is used—adding to the already established spirit of individuality. This is observed in dialogue such as “For Christ’s sake, Kathy” and “That was Miss Armstrong, the Sweeney’s nurse.” By specifying the name of the Sweeney’s nurse, as opposed to addressing her by an occupational designation, John Cheever demonstrates caution around character individuality. The converse of this is depicted in “Their Eyes Were Watching God” where Zora Neale Hurston groups all the gossipers under the collective title of “The people.” Thus, the porch comes forth as a symbolic yet shared territory amidst gossip mongers where there is constant homogeneity: of identity, intent and even action. The gossip mongers were united by the shared action of analyzing Janie’s personal life and passing snide remarks about it.
However, in “The Enormous Radio,” the lives transmitted through the “radio” are diverse in identity and action ranging from the agonized mother who told her child how she paid “eight hundred dollars to get them into that school, and they had to go even if it killed them” to the couple who wanted to “sell the good sized diamond on the floor and wanted to sell it.” Therefore, while the actions portrayed on the porch are connected by intention and similarity of nature—as all the questions and comments were directed towards the berating of Janie—the actions portrayed through the radio are united by a need to hide. The radio transmits gestures and activities that individuals would not carry out in public, such as sexual engagements—as observed in “Button me up, and I’ll find your garters,” and “plans to sell a fallen diamond because the couple in question could use a couple of hundred bucks.”
Moreover, the nature of questions that the gossip mongers put forth during their time on the porch further align with the idea of connected separation. Even though the questions address different or rather “separate” parts of Janie’s life, ranging from her choice of attire as depicted in “Where’s dat blue satin dress she left her in” to her financial status as depicted in “Where all dat money her husband took and died and left her?” and her non-conventional dressing choices as showcased in “What dat ole forty year ole ‘oman doin’ wid her hair swingin’ down her back lak some young gal?” —they all revolve around the axis of her life.
In addition to the thematic unification of the questions, they seem to be connected by way of their linguistic structure as well. They follow an almost repetitive pattern—alternating between “What” and “Where.” In contrast, within “The Enormous Radio,” the questions adopt different structures and vary between being straight up inquiries as observed in “Do you always have to play the piano when I get home?” and instances with an inquisitively obscene nature that range from demonstrations of “indigestion, abysmal vanity, carnal love and despair.”
Finally, the porch as a literary symbol facilitates an almost repelling relationship between the lives that revolve around it: namely Janie’s life, and the lives of the gossip mongers. This supports the initial ideology of a connected separation—depicting how, while the other women are a connected entity as portrayed by the term “The people” and repetition of “Their” and “They,” Janie is separate from this unified body of “night rulers.” Despite being separate, Janie is connected to them as it is her life that is being discussed and commented on. The separation is emphasized by the words of motion that have been used while depicting Janie’s movements such as “kept walking straight along to her gate.” The placement of the words “walking” and “straight” in the same sentence depicts a firm intent of direction. Janie’s trajectory is goal directed—even though her conversation is overtly pleasant, she does not want to spend time with them. Thus, Janie triumphs against the porch and almost conquers it—her victory is established by the phrase “the porch couldn’t talk for looking.” Conclusively, in “The Enormous Radio,” the relationship between the lives that the literary symbol facilitates is increasingly compatible. As opposed to the firm indications of repel in “Their Eyes Were Watching God” where Janie walks straight ahead with the sole intention of “going home,” Irene depicts demonstrated interest toward the lives that are being transmitted through the radio. While Janie walks away from the collective body of lives that use the porch as a shared space to pass judgments and formulate opinions about her life, Irene moves toward the lives on the other end of the radio as depicted in “Irene shifted the control and invaded the privacy of several breakfast tables.” To sum it up, while Janie walked away from the porch, Irene walked toward it.
Additionally, another interesting distinction between the symbolic nature of the porch and the radio is the type of personification used. In “Their Eyes Were Watching God,” the sentence “The porch could not talk for looking” puts the porch in a strongly human position. The distinct individuals on the porch who had “mules and brutes occupying their skin by day” were connected not just by their questions and inquisitiveness about Janie’s life, but also by the shared space of the porch. It was almost as though their presence on the inanimate porch has given it a voice and mind of its own—as observed in “The porch couldn’t talk for looking.”
Thus, it may be concluded that the individuals on the porch are not only connected by the shared space of the porch—they also connect it. It is almost as though the porch is one of the gossip mongers who joins in the conversation about Janie’s life and its other aspects. For them, in addition to an established unity by the porch, there is a sense of empathy and a prominent oneness with the porch. Clearly, the inherent “humanness” established by the compared personification goes a step ahead. Suffice to say, it not only humanizes the porch, but also makes it somewhat human. However, the personification used in “The Enormous Radio” is slightly less dynamic and operates in a manner that can be regarded as subtle. As opposed to using action-packed verbs such as “talk” and “looking,” John Cheever establishes noun-oriented personification. He uses the words “sensitive” and “unpredictable” to describe the radio—employing adjectives that are temperamental and would ideally be associated with a human personality.
In comparison to “Their Eyes Were Watching God,” where the symbolic personification elevates the porch and puts it at par with humans, the descriptions in “The Enormous Radio” describe the radio as a passive onlooker whose “physical ugliness” and “sensitive, unpredictable” nature was in fact a carried-on reflection of the unpredictability and somewhat brutal ugliness of the lives that it contained. Moreover, these specifically “human” descriptions pertaining to the radio serve as an effective foreshadowing technique telling the reader that the ugliness that they observe on the outside is an indication for what is to follow—as the radio contains the otherwise concealed yet painfully raw ugliness of several lives buried behind its “confounding” dials.
All in all, in “Their Eyes Were Watching God” and “The Enormous Radio,” the porch and the radio are used as effective symbols that connect the various lives mentioned in both the stories—either by way of homogeneously themed conversation or an overarching need to conceal.
