Of all African American writers, few are quite as knowledgeable and capable to write about racial segregation and inequality as August Wilson, besides, perhaps, Frederick Douglas with his slave narrative or Zora Neale Hurston with her story, “Sweat.” A prolific writer, August wrote, among other plays, the Pittsburgh Cycle, which is a 10 play, interconnected story revolving around African Americans in Pittsburgh, during the early 20th century. His plays generally involve the struggles of African Americans and their attempts to be seen as reputable, honest members of society, in a society that otherwise wants to deny them all human rights. In an interview with the Paris Review, he said about his passion for theater that his desire was to “raise the consciousness of the people.” One of the plays from the Pittsburgh Cycle, and potentially one of the more famous ones, Fences, stars a garbage-collector with the dead dream to be a famous baseball player. Fences is the third installment to the cycle, and was adapted into a film in 2016. This play, to Wilson, represents the life of a man who is often overlooked, who has just as rich and complicated a life as a businessman; furthermore, in the same interview with the Paris Review, in answer to how Fences affected black audiences, he says, “Blacks see the content of their lives being elevated into art. They don’t always know that it is possible, and it’s important for them to know that.” This shows not only the importance of Wilson’s works, but how he hopes his work will reach into other’s lives and encourage them, while teaching those who cannot understand a black person’s life what it is like to be discriminated against. But the most interesting things about Wilson and his play, Fences, are the rampant Biblical allusions tucked away between lines of dialogue and in the memorable characters he presents. In fact, Wilson claims to have been a supporter of tradition, saying first he wanted “to demonstrate that the ‘manners and rituals’ existed and that the tradition was capable of sustaining you” and also that he worries of a “break in its [black culture’s] traditions” because black colleges have begun to sing Bach instead of the gospel at their convocations. Given this statement, it makes sense for Wilson to include various allusions to Bible stories, regularly quoted passages, and a character singing a hymn with Jesus’ name. But how do these allusions tie into the story of Fences, where our main protagonist, Troy, is faced with more racial discrimination and hard times than proselytizing messengers and good news?
Starting from the most obvious examples and progressing towards the subtle ones, our first character of note is Gabriel Maxson–Troy’s brother. His name alone would be reason enough to suggest a Biblical allusion, but Wilson goes a step farther. Gabriel served in World War Two and was injured, and now has a metal plate in his head. He also believes he is the Archangel Gabriel, the same Gabriel who gave Mary the news about her virgin pregnancy, and he carries with him a trumpet to open the gates of heaven. While the cause of this personality switch would be fascinating, the more relevant topic of study for this conversation is the Archangel Gabriel. Walter Fulghum, who wrote an entire dictionary of Biblical allusions, says the name Gabriel means “‘God is mighty,’” and he goes on to list the various ways Gabriel impacted humans on earth, naming Daniel, John the Baptist, and Mary–in all circumstances, Gabriel was a messenger. Not only has Gabriel been the crux of several integral events for the Christian faith, but this archangel has been used by various, well-known authors, such as Milton, Dickinson, James Joyce–the importance of this archangel cannot be denied, though it is probably due to the messenger influence that Wilson made his WW2 veteran mimic one of God’s most prominent angels. In terms of the story, Gabe and his lines serve several purposes. Being the messenger, his most vital heavenly role is to let St. Peter know when to open the gates of heaven for judgment. Gabe’s first mention of this comes on page 29, when he discusses how he’s sat with St. Peter, saying, “…St. Peter would go off to sleep and tell me to wake him up when it’s time to open the gates for judgment.” He then goes on to say that he’s seen Troy’s and Rose’s names in the book of judgment, and on the next page must run off to chase away hellhounds, singing about how everyone needs to get ready for the judgment. Throughout the play, Gabe is regarded as less of a heavenly messenger, and more of a liability. Troy is adamant that his brother should have free reign, up until Act 2, Scene 2, when Troy is in the thick of some drama involving a baby by another woman, and Rose accuses Troy of signing papers that put Gabe in what is assumed to be a mental hospital. This turn of events highlights the lack of control and familial loyalty Troy has been exemplifying throughout the play. The general attitude of placating Gabe and treating him as a child is also meaningful since, by the end, it is Gabe’s “job” to open the gates of heaven for his brother. This juxtaposition of attitudes is more for the audience than the other characters involved, and, when Gabe goes to blow the trumpet he has a horrifying realization. Wilson does not name the realization, but calls it “a weight of impossible description that falls away and leaves him bare and exposed to a frightful realization. It is a trauma that a sane and normal mind would be unable to withstand.” Whatever is meant by this is up to the audience, though it may suggest either Troy did not make it into heaven, or that heaven merely does not exist . . . or, and this third option is perhaps the most terrifying, God is death.
Troy Maxson has several notable characteristics that cause problems for him throughout the play, but it is his recurrent “fight” with a being he terms “Death” that is, undoubtedly, the most intriguing. Page 16 is where he first mentions the character of Death, likening his fight to wrestling for three days and three nights. By saying this, he makes two Biblical references: firstly, when Jacob wrestled with God in Genesis 32: 22-32, and “three days and three nights” is an often-used phrase in the Bible, with more significance laid on the number three than the passage of time. In the Bible story, Jacob is preparing to cross a ford (Jabbok or Zerka the blue river, found in East Jordan Land, Palestine) when, in the New International Version translation, after his wives and children leave, “a man wrestled with him [Jacob] till daybreak.” Troy’s story clearly correlates to the one found in Genesis, though it is his reworking of the story to make it his own that inspires deeper thought. In fact, the story of Jacob wrestling with God does not mention that they wrestled for three days and three nights. There are many things that the number three signifies in the Bible, like the Holy Trinity, or, per some translations of the Hebrew word for three (“shalosh”) it means new life or completeness. However, in this sense, Troy seems to be using it for several other reasons: to play up the drama of his story, and to suggest that, similar to Jesus, he was victorious (or rose from the dead) on the third day of his fight.
These two important or popular references create some interesting meanings for Troy’s story by themselves, but put together they create an entirely new idea. In a book by Herbert F. Hahn, a researcher by the name of Gunkel explores the narratives in Genesis, discussing how we ought to come at the stories presented in the Old Testament from the lens that they were first oral stories, and only later made into written stories. Herbert writes about Gunkel’s findings, saying that, “Gunkel’s view that the qualities of Old Testament narrative were the product of the collective genius of the people rather than the achievement of individual authors reflected the influence of the sociological trend of thought in historical studies at the beginning of the twentieth century” and that this trend suggested that “people […] were the important factor in cultural history.” What this means, then, is that the original story presented by the writers of the Bible is, ultimately, less important than the story the people create and pass on. To put this in light of the text, Troy has altered the Bible story to fit a narrative that fits him–it takes on a new meaning and evolves the original text, which is what Gunkel is, in some way, getting at.
Finally, the last thing to consider when investigating this personification of the word “Death” comes up in an essay by Joan Fishman, in a book by M. Elkins that discusses various works of August Wilson–one of which is Fences–and, along with other aspects of the play, Fishman notes several differences between early drafts of the play: “In early drafts, Troy reflects his Christian upbringing, wrestling with his due to the heavens and the heavens’ due to him” and then, later, Fishman writes on the version of the play that includes Troy wrestling with Death rather than Christianity, that, “Troy’s perception of his ability to be responsible for his own fate has changed markedly.” What this suggests then, is that rather than wrestling with Death, Troy is actually wrestling with Christianity–or, more specifically, God. To go even further, as Fishman notes, Troy is trying to figure out how responsible he is for the life he’s been given, or his fate.
For a traditionalist, August Wilson’s Fences presents some Biblical allusions that appear to veer away from what tradition normally dictates. From a WW2 veteran believing he is an archangel, to a man with lost dreams and hopes who is in the thick of a battle with God, Wilson has created not only memorable characters, but ones that are wonderfully representative of real life. The situation of the play, too, is not to be disregarded; set in Chicago, in the middle of an era where more people were racist than not, his play also serves as a commentary of Christianity. Regardless of whether or not Wilson meant for us to interpret the Bible from the perspective of oral tradition rather than written, he does seem to want for us to view this old Word from a more cultural viewpoint. Language evolves over time, which means our literature must, as well. In the words of Gabe Maxson: “That’s the way that go!”
Works Cited:
Elkins, M. R., & Fishman, J. (1994). Developing His Song. In August Wilson: A casebook (pp. 175–176). essay, Garland.
Fulghum, W. B., & Fulghum, W. (1965). Gabriel. In A dictionary of biblical allusions in English literature (pp. 88–89). essay, Holt, Rinehart & Winston.
Hahn, H. F., Hummel, H. D., & Hahn, H. (1970). Form Criticism and the Old Testament. In The old testament in modern research: Herbert F. Hahn ; with a survey of recent literature (pp. 125–127). essay, Fortress Press.
Lyons, B., & Plimpton, G. (2021, December 9). The Art of Theater No. 14. The Paris Review. Retrieved April 18, 2022, from https://www.theparisreview.org/interviews/839/the-art-of-theater-no-14-august-wilson
New International Version. Biblica, 2001. Gen. 32: 22-32.
Wilson, August. Fences.
Word Technician 