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61 pages 2 hours read

Richard Russo

Empire Falls

Fiction | Novel | Adult | Published in 2001

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Symbols & Motifs

Weight

Weight, both physical and moral, plays a significant role in the Roby family. Miles is teasingly nicknamed “Big Boy” (28) by Walt Comeau, his wife’s new lover. Janine is obsessed with her weight, having lost more than fifty pounds, but is bothered by Walt’s tendency to play a “constant public guessing game about her weight” (68). This makes her even more self-conscious about her weight, and she exercises constant vigilance over her food intake; this, in turn, has an impact on Tick, “a rail-thin sophomore” in high school (20) who picks listlessly at her food. Tick is often weighed down, hunched over by her heavy backpack—and, metaphorically, by the heaviness of her thoughts since her parents’ decision to divorce.

When Miles catches Janine “sneaking a scallop off Tick’s plate,” he offers to get Janine her own plate of food. Janine immediately goes on the defensive, declaring, “I’m not going to be fat again, not ever” (109). She implies that Miles has been responsible for her excess weight—he runs a restaurant, after all—and claims that she has regained “control of my own body” (109), declaring her independence from him. Her scavenging from Tick’s plate, though, also symbolizes the ways in which Janine robs Tick of her own self-worth, so bound up is it in food.

However, Janine has merely changed the way her body looks, not the way her mind feels, and the moral weight of all the years of being overlooked weighs heavily on her. Likewise, Miles eats out of moral obligation: “It was Charlene’s opinion that if Miles could bring himself to toss out every stray French fry that fell onto the counter, he’d weigh no more than his brother, David, who was gaunt and sinewy” (106). Ultimately, Janine leaves her job at Walt’s health club and goes “to work as a hostess and waitress at her mother’s restaurant, where she’d put back on most of the weight she’d Stairmastered off during the previous year” (459). The author implies that the guilt Janine suffers—due to her last unpleasant encounter with Tick before the school shooting and her absence—also weighs heavily on her. In contrast, Miles loses weight while he and Tick are in self-imposed exile, an expression of solidarity and worry.

Heights

“As a boy Miles had been a climber,” the narrator informs the reader; he was “so fearless that he’d driven his mother into paroxysms of terror” (44). However, in adulthood, Miles has developed a crippling fear of heights: “Somewhere along the line he’d become terrified of heights, and the idea of painting the steeple made him weak in the knees” (44). Symbolically speaking, the analogy is clear: Miles was once destined to climb high, unencumbered and unafraid, but he had somehow lost his nerve and forsaken his ambitions. The narrator provides an apt metaphor: “For all his early promise, Miles had scaled no heights, and now, at forty-two, he was so afraid of them that he cowered near the steel doors of glass elevators, reluctant to move back away from them and let others step on” (45). Miles is stuck, as it were, in between floors and in between opportunities, mired in middle age.

Miles is not the only one for whom scaling the heights of success has been elusive. Janine too is facing middle age with trepidation and self-pity. At the homecoming football game, she is disappointed by her mother’s refusal to save them seats near the top: “Janine understood about her mother’s aching feet and why she hadn’t wanted to climb all the way to the top as Janine had begged her. But damn, she’d hoped to get farther up than this” (279). Again, the metaphor is clear: Janine’s life is also stuck, and she is left in between a man who relishes his routines to the point of drudgery and a man whose character and intelligence are questionable at best. The frequent invocation of heights—there are many scenes wherein Mrs. Whiting is looking down at the Robys from across the river—functions to emphasize the fading dreams and vivid regrets that accompany the onset of middle age.

Martha’s Vineyard: Memory and Islands

Martha’s Vineyard is both the place where some of Miles’s most vivid memories occur and the location where he invests his dreams for the future. It is the island repository of both Miles’s past and Miles’s future, which keeps him from truly living in his present existence: As his brother David observes, he lives only in the present, while Miles thinks “only about the past and future” (226). It is notable that Martha’s Vineyard is an island, a geographical creation defined by isolation and detachment; thus, it functions as much as a metaphor for Miles’s state of mind as it does an actual place.

Coming back from his trip with Tick, Miles reflects upon his many regrets: “Every year he left the island haunted by a profound feeling of personal failure” (102). It is not merely that he cannot afford to live there; he also feels he failed his mother there—though it will take him the discovery of Charlie Mayne’s real identity to come to terms with the latter. Even David recognizes that “Martha’s Vineyard” has become an unhealthy fixation for Miles: “Think about it, Miles. A little island, another world, miles away, at safe yearning distance. Something you can desire without ever being expected to strive for. [...] The sad part is that you don’t love Martha’s Vineyard. It was Mom who loved it” (224). The dream of Martha’s Vineyard isn’t even Miles’s dream; it is his attempt to reclaim his mother’s dream. It is no coincidence that he and Tick return to Martha’s Vineyard to heal after the school shooting; it represents Miles’s motherland. It also bodes well for their future that Miles eventually decides to grow up, leave the land of childhood, and return to Empire Falls as a man.

Timmy the Cat: Witch’s Familiar?

One of the delightful running tropes of the book is the characterization of Mrs. Whiting as a witch. This is largely achieved via the actions of the scrappy—or deranged, from Miles’s point of view—Timmy the Cat (who, despite the name, is a female). The reader first encounters the cat perched atop C. B. Whiting’s grave as Max Roby urinates on it; this might explain the cat’s intense hostilities toward Miles. Even Horace Weymouth, jaded reporter, “swore that Timmy was the old woman’s familiar, and Miles, who noted that the cat’s sudden appearance often coincided with the mention or advent of Mrs. Whiting, was inclined to agree” (157). The book is set in New England, the historical hotbed of witchcraft and occult hysteria.

David points out that the scratches on Miles’s hand, administered by Timmy, represent Mrs. Whiting’s games: “She’s toying with you,” he claims, like a cat batting about a mouse (224). Later, when Miles is severely beaten by Jimmy Minty, Timmy ignores him for the first time, appearing “satisfied with the damage already inflicted on Miles” (436). Most significantly for the analogy, Mrs. Whiting’s death is by drowning, which is both tragic and ironic: In some historical instances, the proof required to absolve a woman of the charge of witchcraft is drowning (witches would magically float, the thinking went). Thus, Mrs. Whiting is proved not to be a witch only in the hour of her demise. Yet Timmy remains with her, as her body careens down the river, “crouched at the shoulders of the dead woman,” “red-mouthed” and “howling” (483).

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