Title: Christ in Concrete: Crossing the Generation Factor
ietro Di Donato's Christ in Concrete is a journey for any reader, imploring the heart's empathy with language and drama, and emulating the experience of a second generation Italian immigrant in America through the character of Paul. We see obvious dualistic distinctions throughout the novel, such as capitalists and laborers, Italian and American, female and male, adulthood and childhood - and how each of these diametrically opposed forces are crushed together within one breast. The experience of Paul is not unique, nor is it realistically representative of every second generation Italian-American child. Rather, it is the drama taken to an extreme, forcing the reader to confront the sources of conflict in the transitory generation, those who must bridge the gap between the American identity and that of the Other.We are shown the man Geremio first, shown his ambitions and his fears, and then his brutal death. The only mention of the novel's most intricate character besides Paul, that of Job, "loomed up" at the beginning of Part I, Chapter 2, quietly foreshadowing its dark capabilities. The moment Geremio wishes Paul's invulnerability to Job is highly suggestive of deux ex machina, Job assuming the role of a god in crushing the laborers and crucifying Geremio in its medium of concrete - at this moment he becomes the an allegorical son of Job, as Christ is the son of God. The personified role of Job and its laborers becomes juxtaposed - Christ on the cross, men on the wall, Geremio pinned in cement, all simultaneous images of eternal life through death. This metaphor can be extended to America as a whole, which lies on the cross of capitalism.
Capitalism is America's expression of freedom, and yet it is the death for a substantial part of the nation. The interconnection of Job and God is seen again at the end of the novel, when Paul "pulled the crucifix from her and crushed it in his hands," (231). The hands of Paul are the strong hands of Job, asserting Job's power over religious faith. The first generation has died at the hands of the second, and yet the second generation will repent, and be forgiven.
What separates the second generation from the first, then? Paul is an ambiguous figure regarding this separation, for he chooses to cross the line from second to first in duties. He, who fashioned a radio and succeeded in school, went to work laying brick to support his widowed family. Before the death of his father took place, it is doubtful that his life was carefree, and we see evidence of another type of struggle. The first generation Italians were likely to favor ben educati over public schooling, "raised with the core of one's personality woven of those values and attitudes, habits and skills that perpetuated... and thus was attuned to the welfare of the family."1 Public schooling was often found contrary to what was good for the family unit, exhorting the good of society over the good of the family, and depicting loyalty to family over country as old-world and un-American. Richard Gambino describes his own experience:
The moments of encounter with padrone, the bosses and corporation men are minimal, and a disturbing trend ripples throughout the novel at their appearance. Geremio reflects on his dispute with Murdin in Chapter 1, and even as the foreman must meekly submit to the American's disregard for safety for the sake of keeping his job. Contrastingly, Paul declares Murdin a liar to his face at the Compensation Bureau. The second generation child dares to assert his father's worthiness, "My father was the foreman!" (131). Paul takes on the role of his father, however, and towards the end of the novel we discover his fascination with the American men as a complete Other during the award ceremony Instead of regarding the Anglo-American as his equal, Paul regards them as exoticized and incomprehensible, who "spoke tired high-class talk" (182). "The European peasants believed that there was a pecking order in the natural scheme of things and that everyone should know his or her correct social status...it was the way that they should be everywhere, even in America."3 . His reaction to the capitalists' appearance seems more awe-struck than ever, and we must wonder if his schooled notions of equality have been lost in his trials. Paul straddles the line between first and second generation immigrant, and he focuses on certain individuals for guidance. Luigi and Nazone are Paul's male examples, both bricklayers and first generation Italian immigrants. Both of these men are debilitated, and both are drawn to a certain femininity as a result. Luigi finds that the feminine version of Job is not monstrous but a communal experience which cultivates bonding instead of individual mechanization. His discovery leads to the greatest happiness in the entire novel, his wedding. Nazone finds the dreamy feminine side of himself on his last day of living, and his incapability to perform on the wall is the death of him. Man's Job cannot allow its laborers any occasional freedom. Paul feels pity for both of these men as he grows into his role as adult, for the two strong men seem to revert to a childlike state. In contrast, Paul is envious of Louis and Gloria, once his peers in the tenement. He respects Louis for his book reading, while Louis implores him to return to school. Paul's moment of religious denial is quite possibly precipitated from Louis' atheism. Paul revels in Gloria's physicality; her liveliness and physical freedom of movement represent to him the freedom of childhood, while the lust she inspires is adult and shameful to him. Her ethnic origin is uncertain, and Louis is a Russian Jew...Paul's closest ties to his own childhood are Americanized, and his difference from them rather exoticizes them. Because Paul has accepted the role of the father, these relationships are twisted awkwardly, for it is likely that had Geremio lived, he would have respected Luigi and Nazone, exoticizing them for their Italian experiences, and Louis and Gloria he perhaps would pity, for their being excluded from his playmates' clique.
Christ in Concrete rarely gives the reader satisfaction of closure... we cannot revel in happiness nor grieve in relieved sadness for Paul, because we do not know the outcomes of his anxieties. His conflicts in cultural identity, manhood, sexuality, and religion are all sources of constant pain and fear, and yet Di Donato abandons these dilemmas without solving them. Paul never asks forgiveness of the God he denied, but only asks it of his dying mother; he is too young to deal with his own sexuality, yet he carries the burden of entire family; we never discover what becomes of Paul and Gloria. The ambiguity of resolution originates with Job. Will the family collect death benefits from Murdin? Will Job give life-sustaining wages, or accidental death, dismemberment, or unemployment? These unallayed fears are realistic to a point, beyond which Di Donato extends to heighten the reader's discomfort and expectations of a climactic ending. The last page of the novel slips by in a pleading whisper, most unsatisfactory and yet true to the nature of the work, for the conflict between ways of life for the second generation immigrant is never-ending.