48 pages • 1 hour read
Walter MosleyA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Throughout the novel, Mosley probes questions related to the formation and perception of human identity, especially Black American identities. His investigation extends beyond typical markers of identity such as race and gender to include personality and decision-making processes as well.
Some characters embody and accept a view of identity as something that is inherited and accepted rather than selected or deliberately sculpted. Mouse, for instance, advises Easy to “accept what he is” (209), implying that Easy has forgotten or willfully ignored certain aspects of his identity, presumably referring to his birth into a poor Black family. Mouse, by contrast, lives in the moment: He translates his received identity, including physical impulses, into action with little or no forethought or reflection. Albright subscribes to a similar philosophy: Not only does he remind Easy of Mouse, he revealingly asks Easy whether Frank Green hesitated “for even a second” before killing a man (61). To Mouse, Albright, and perhaps Frank, identity is something to be experienced, not questioned, shaped, or resisted.
Daphne presents an alternate view of identity as a social construct, subject to manipulation and even willful distortion. Born as Ruby Hanks, Daphne attempts to put her troubled childhood behind her by becoming the white Daphne Monet. In creating a new identity for herself, Daphne substitutes imagination for the unthinking immediacy of Mouse and Albright’s approach, even putting on an accent and fabricating a story about visiting the zoo. More than a tactical decision, her choice to reinvent herself carries elements of wish fulfillment. The problem arises when, after deceiving others, Daphne finds that she has deceived herself.
Easy falls somewhere in the middle of these two approaches. On the one hand, Mouse accuses him of “thinkin’ like white men be thinkin’” (209), suggesting that he is out of touch with his own identity. Daphne, on the other hand, calls off her relationship with Easy after he learns the truth about her identity, telling him, “You know what’s wrong. You know who I am; what I am” (207), implying that he is too literal in his interpretation of her identity. For his own part, Easy seems to recognize identity formation as an ongoing, give-and-take process between an individual and the environment. Instead of rushing into decisions, he deliberates with the voice in his head and second-guesses himself. Instead of seeking to escape through the assumption of a fantasy identity, he slowly but consistently moves toward the real identities he desires, including homeowner and detective.
Much of Devil in a Blue Dress comprises Easy’s attempt, as narrator, to explain how he became who he is: “It was those two days more than any other time that made me a detective” (131), he recalls of his search for Frank. Mosley portrays Easy’s efforts at self-determination as complicated by the injustices of racial and class prejudice, and interrogates the intersection of individual and collective identity markers. Easy struggles to reconcile who he believes himself to be with the expectations and assumptions of those around him, especially in light of the racist and classist attitudes of the powerful white men Carter and Teran. Teran’s malevolence and Carter’s obliviousness represent threats not only to Easy’s individual identity, but the widespread harm of both latent and overt white supremacy. However, Easy is not deterred by either man in his quest for self-determination, ultimately locating his sense of self in his own motivations and actions rather than in how he is perceived by others. Given that Easy seems to relish and excel in his work as a detective, the implication is that, for all the difficulty and complexity of Easy’s approach to identity formation relative to Daphne and Mouse’s approaches, the result is worth the effort.
Violence runs rampant in Devil in a Blue Dress. In addition to several murders, the novel features non-fatal conflicts, recollections of war, and the almost constant threat of additional violence. Through the lens of Easy’s narration, Mosley examines the circumstantial and emotional tipping points that lead to and seem to justify violence.
To frame his examination, Mosley first establishes Easy as a sensitive, thoughtful character who has witnessed, and even participated in, significant violence as both soldier and civilian. His experiences leave him feeling guilt for the role he played in inflicting and enabling violence and trauma. The scene in which he encounters Richard’s dead body is particularly telling: Easy falls to the ground, reeling, and confesses, “All the dead men that I’d ever known came back to me in that instant” (95). Despite his visceral reaction, Easy resolves not to let the situation overwhelm him. Thus, Easy’s familiarity with violence, rather than desensitizing him, makes him all the more aware of its tragic costs while giving him the maturity to step back and assess situations with something approaching objectivity.
Easy’s sensitivity and objectivity are put to the test, however, as trying circumstances push him towards committing—or having Mouse commit—further acts of violence. Early on, when Easy first receives a letter from Mouse, he ignores it, feeling that his life is well under control. Within the next few chapters, however, Easy undergoes a brutal interrogation, discovers Richard’s dead body, and is ambushed by Albright in his home. Following these developments and a series of nightmares, Easy sends for Mouse, who arrives just in time to save him from Frank. In the ensuing tussle, Easy restrains Mouse from killing Frank, then confesses his guilt over his involvement with Mouse’s past murders; Mouse offers to hold back, provided that Easy can demonstrate “how a poor man can live wit’out blood” (157). To Mouse, violence is not only justifiable but necessary for those who do not have the privilege and wealth to avoid it.
Despite the purity of his intentions, Easy goes on to become complicit in several instances of violence. First, his decision to involve Mouse ultimately leads to the murders of Albright, Frank, and Joppy. Of the latter’s death, Easy comments, “I felt cold then. Joppy had been my friend but I’d seen many men die and I cared for Coretta too” (205). Though Easy objects to Mouse’s decisions to kill Joppy, Frank, and Albright, their deaths afford him a level of protection, and he helps Mouse avoid facing any legal consequences. As he comments following his discovery that Mouse killed Frank, “It was murder and I had to swallow it” (208).
Second, Easy enables the state to enact a likely death penalty against Junior for his role in Richard’s death. Knowing that Junior’s act was neither malicious nor premeditated, Easy’s act of informing weighs even more heavily on him. In this case, however, Easy’s sense of self-preservation overpowers his concern for Junior.
In Easy’s world as depicted by Mosley, violence is not so much a conscious choice as a fact of life. The best that someone like Easy can do under those circumstances is to try to contain and direct the violence in the ways he finds least morally objectionable, all the while balancing his own need to survive. This portrayal of the incompatibility of the ideal of peace and the reality of violence participates in established tropes of the nature of good and evil in noir fiction.
Though Easy finds life in LA tolerable and even worthwhile, his experiences shed light on several ways that the American Dream—the belief thats any individual can rise from poverty to riches in a land of equal opportunity—fails to deliver on its promise. Easy recalls the rumors and stories that led huge numbers of Black people to migrate from the South to California and elsewhere during the 1910s-1970s:
California was like heaven for the Southern Negro. People told stories of how you could eat fruit right off the trees and get enough work to retire one day. The stories were true for the most part but the truth wasn’t like the dream. Life was still hard in L.A. and if you worked every day you still found yourself on the bottom (28).
Within this context, Easy’s struggle to make ends meet exemplifies the experiences of a generation of migrants who discovered the American Dream to be an illusion. First, contrary to the myth of equal opportunity, Easy finds that racism plays a significant role in limiting economic outcomes. Following his dismissal from Champion Aircraft, Easy relates his experience to Junior, highlighting the irony that he was fired in a discriminatory manner by a boss who is himself the son of Italian immigrants. Similarly, Easy’s later difficulty getting into Lion Investments to see Carter highlights the way that white-collar environments were particularly hostile to non-white applicants and visitors.
Second, contrary to the belief in easy prosperity, Easy finds that amassing wealth through individual initiative alone is demanding and subject to chance. Easy manages to pay his bills through a series of chance encounters and events: Joppy happens to refer him to Albright and, near the novel’s end, Easy happens to secure a third of the money Daphne took from Carter. After all of Easy’s efforts to survive, those outcomes may not appear to have anything to do with luck, but Easy considers himself lucky merely to have survived. As he reviews events with Odell, they reassure themselves that “the other guy”—Junior, in this case—“just got ahold of some bad luck” (219). Contrasted with this good luck-bad luck dichotomy of the individual, the daily grind to advance up the economic ladder is a larger social network of support enjoyed by the already rich and well-connected. As Mouse tells Easy, “But, Easy, you gotta have somebody at yo’ back, man. That’s just a lie them white men give ‘bout makin’ it on they own. They always got they backs covered” (156). While Easy accepts Mouse’s offer of assistance at that time, the truth is that none of Easy’s friends is powerful or influential enough to guarantee his financial success.
Overall, Easy’s struggles and disappointments in his search for prosperity neither inspire any particular hope nor necessitate despair; instead, they show the difference between the idealized, imaginary America of the public imagination and the one in which he struggled to make his way.
By Walter Mosley