The Relationship Between Sonny And His Brother In Sonny's Blues By James Baldwin

Stories of waring or clashing siblings have been a literary staple, as well as a historical fact of life, from almost the dawn of time. From Cain and Abel, to Peter and Christopher Hitchens, to the many Union against Confederate brothers in the Civil War, examples are everywhere. In comparison, the relationship between Sonny and his brother in the short story Sonny’s Blues may seem slightly underwhelming; at the very least, it is not violent or openly antagonistic. Instead, it is a subtler brokenness, a relationship of missing words and one-way conversations. The two brothers, by the climax of their fighting, have become so impossibly different that they cannot seem to find any common ground. Maybe, as many siblings before them found, their

He is a schoolteacher, a father, a man trying desperately to abandon the humiliating, demoralizing life of his poverty-stricken past. As a young adult he joined the army, displaying at an early stage his desire to escape, while also showing off his dutifulness. In contrast, Sonny rejects the ordinary path his brother takes, while in turn choosing one of the least practical, safe, careers he could take. He is idealistic and fanciful, traits his brother frequently challenged as a child. On one instance, the narrator tells, “[Sonny] had been all hipped on the idea of going to India. He read books about people sitting on rocks, naked, in all kinds of weather, but mostly bad, naturally, and walking barefoot through hot coals and arriving at wisdom. I used to say that it sounded to me as though they were getting away from wisdom as fast as they could” (128 Baldwin). In addition to their clashing personalities, the narrator clearly sees himself as an authority figure, a voice of reason, which Sonny has no desire for. During their music fight, the narrator notes that, “I was beginning to realize that I’d never seen him so upset before. With another part of my mind I was thinking that this would probably turn out to be another one of those things kids go through…” (135). Despite trying to do what is best for his brother, he

They meet again, and while the hot-burning angry is gone, the two still barely know each other, treating one another more like distant cousins than siblings. Even though the siblings are cordial, even friendly, a distance remains between them, nigh insurmountable. They make small overtures, but not until the narrator hears Sonny play his music, does he finally understand. There is no loving embrace, no miraculous mending of their relationship, but a passing moment of quiet recognition. In the end, that’s all Sonny truly wanted, and it is