There Will Be No Miracles Here

“Besides, I was, through my twenties, addicted to Skittles, enough of which will have you strung out and broke and dead, too—and while that may seem like comparing apples to oranges, so to speak, addiction is addiction and it just so happens that we’ve built ourselves a nice society that places all the folks addicted to fame and money and complaining a little lower than the angels and, down below waterbugs and Hugo Chavez, places men and women who get high every now and then or all the time. Not that I’m endorsing any of it. I’m just not going to be the one to jump all over addicts we don’t like. At least not for being addicts. Daddy could have enjoyed all the heroin in the world for all I cared—I just wanted him to show up for my tenth birthday party and inform me of his visit to Dean’s so I wouldn’t be caught up in a lie.”

This quotation captures Gerald’s attitude toward his father’s addiction while providing an incisive criticism of socially endorsed value priorities. It is not necessarily clear exactly what Gerald believes addiction consists of, but it is clear that he views the addict more as a patient or a person employing a poor coping mechanism than a danger or moral failure. However, Gerald is also acutely aware of his father’s failures in parenting. His nearly dismissive attitude toward addiction, in this context, has the effect of holding his father personally responsible for his failures rather than blaming his father’s addiction, reflecting the idea that even inexcusable behavior has reasons.

“A boy in my fifth grade class, Mauricio, who must have also had some strange things going on in his life at the time. One afternoon, he decided to lie down for a while in the middle of the road. Mauricio’s plan was to lie there until a car ran him over, which would have worked if the first prospective car had not been driven by someone who noticed a small boy in the road ahead. […] Mauricio, who might have had the right idea all along, was struck with the paddle and doused with medication and, I bet, given another chance to try fifth grade—while I, his mad submissive counterpart, toed the line so well and for so long that somewhere along the way somebody said that I had a gift—a gift!—when what I had was more of a sickness.”

This passage aptly summarizes Gerald’s jaundiced view of his own abilities and his sardonic attitude toward his success and even life in general. Far from being boastful, Gerald suggests that he came to his significant academic prowess partially out of his discomfort and desire to please those in authority. A similar motive continues to drive him later in the book as he shapes himself into the symbol others want to see.

“If your mother ever asks you to choose between her death and disappearance, have her die. Always. Though not immediately, of course. Death has a certain elegance to it. A date. A time. A body. A clean hemline, so to speak. […] A disappearance, on the contrary, is a messy, sordid enterprise. It is hard to even pin down when, exactly, someone disappears. […] All you know for certain is that they are not where they used to be, with you.”

There are several passages that convey the depth and extent of Gerald’s pain and confusion surrounding the disappearance of his mother when he was approximately 12 or 13 years old. This particular passage, which frames the death of a mother as clearly preferable to her disappearance, effectively conveys that Gerald’s pain results not only from his mother’s absence but also from uncertainty, as her words suggested imminent return. Young Casey Gerald suffered because he hoped for his mother’s return, and he had no clear way to explain her disappearance.

“I really just needed a little instruction, that’s all: get your ass low, keep your eyes open, and run for your life. I ran like that all the way through my life, right up until I couldn’t run anymore.”

This passage explains how to score a touchdown, as expressed by Gerald’s football coach. This direction becomes advice that Gerald applies as a larger life lesson. The passage also suggests that it carries a larger message about the way Gerald approaches most areas of life until near the end of the book. Not only did he run as if his survival required it, but he also became very adept at transforming his behavior—and even himself—to perform as others requested or expected of him. The quotation also highlights the role that conformity plays in leading Gerald throughout the book. It suggests that there is a limit to such conformity and that hitting this limit will cause change.

“Mama had been gone for two years or so. Daddy had not said a word about it to me, that I could remember, not a How you doing or a Sure hate that. And now he wanted my input on which of these three harlots he should choose to replace or supersede or blot out my dead or disappeared mother. Thankfully, I had carried out additional reforms on myself—could now speak in a low easy voice, with very simple words, whenever I wanted to slide a butcher knife across somebody’s throat. I responded, nicely: I don’t want to talk about that. The noise of tires on pavement filled the car. I looked over at Daddy. He seemed calm, surprisingly calm, both hands gripping the steering wheel. Man, FUCK YOU! His hands flew to the roof of the car and slammed back down, making the Lincoln swerve. Don’t nobody care what you wanna talk about. […] I want to say that I felt peace—the peace that comes when someone finally admits the thing that you’ve long suspected. But between peace and emptiness, the line is thin. Maybe that’s what it was. The beginning of an emptying.”

This passage represents a change in the relationship between Gerald and his father. The change is not a reversal of the parent-child dynamic; rather, Gerald is letting go of his belief that his father will somehow become a better parent. This is a significant shift, as Gerald presents himself as nearly always compliant and conforming. Here, he effectively disobeys his father and gains strength in doing so. The passage also reveals Gerald’s approach to conflict, which generally involves calm, careful moves that use language to prevail over an opponent.

“I was one of the last boys called [at national signing day]. After the silence the announcer booming my high school, and the gasp that followed his boom of my soon-to-be college, there was a wail that ripped through the field house once he boomed my name. This was the gust of my people […] strong enough for the feet to stomp in the bleacher with more passion for a boy going to play for a team nobody knew existed than all the boys going off to [play with top college football schools] […]; strong enough for the Sprague groundskeeper to call me over to his cart once the ceremony was over. He started to speak, then caught his bottom lip with his top teeth. He rested his worn hands on my shoulders. Tears rolled down his tired cheeks. Go all the way, son. Go all the way. I was not sure how to get to all the way, but I felt in the hands of the men and heard in the voices of the women and saw in the eyes of the little children that if went all the way, then they would go, too. And it seemed that they had been waiting so long to go.”

This passage clearly expresses the pressure Gerald feels to perform well at Yale: He carries the hopes and dreams of his community. This explains why Gerald feels compelled to transform himself as far as necessary to succeed.

“[T]he greatest risk was hope. For nearly five years, I had prayed for this one thing to happen—well, I also prayed to be delivered from sin until a few of my sins got too good to give up—and each prayer required a little more desperation and earnestness, new words since the old ones had not worked, large mustard seeds since the mountains had not moved. And over time, each prayer brought with it more resentment and formed a callous on the heart. […] And daily prayer turned into weekly prayer then annual prayer at someone else’s request, then no prayer at all because even dogs and babies know when to stop asking for the same thing. And this journey ended not at hopelessness—only liars and some mass murders have no hope—but at an anti-hope. This anti-hope seems to be in vogue, mind you, especially amongst those who consider themselves too brilliant or too secular to believe in silly things like unicorns and hope and God. They say that anti-hope is the natural order of things, that the most obvious stance for man and woman of reason is the stance of Cool Customer, leaning against the wall of the world while the moral arc of the universe bends down to crush them, as it must. And they must convince themselves and others that this anti-hope is not only natural, not only superior, but inevitable. Because otherwise they must admit that anti-hope is a choice—a choice birthed by fear, by a cautious assessment of risk, a selective reading of the past projected onto the future, a failure of the imagination and a crippling of the will. They have to make Hope the province of fools so that Anti-Hope is not revealed to be the province of cowards.”

This extended quotation summarizes Gerald’s conflicted feelings about seeing his mother again. It comes just before his sister Tashia informs him that she has located their mother. This revelation briefly restores Gerald’s hope, which is quickly dashed when it becomes clear that their mother is not joining them when they travel to St. Louis to pick her up. When she does reappear later, it leaves Gerald fraught with anger and frustration due to his deep and complex emotional responses to her. The quote also speaks directly to the fundamental message of the book, which can be understood as Gerald’s project to demonstrate and restore his faith in the power of hope, the possibility of a truly good life, and the ability to live as an integrated self despite the disjointed parts of his personal history. When Gerald later walks away from his potential congressional campaign, it is not out of fear but out of a sense of possibility. Gerald must believe it is possible to attain a better life than the one he was living before. Indeed, his good and bad fortune can be seen as preparing him to write this very book as a means of discovering himself and beginning the rest of his journey.

“I’ve been watching Granny for a long time. Have known many women like her—well, not many but enough. Granny still has the scar from where fell out of a tree as a little girl and split her upper lip; still has the picture of her baby Janet lying there in that tiny coffin with the lace around wrists; still has her dead husband’s coats and some of his bills. And for all those years I was trying to move on, she still had her disappearing daughter’s paper and children—children who had gone off on their own and had done about the best they could, but who were still children, even if she was the only one who knew it. So, she carried them too. But one of these days, Granny and her kind might crack. They might pick up the last straw that must be right in front of their faces. And when it they do, when all the Grannies have had enough, what is the world gonna do? Who’s gonna carry the cross and the children and wipe the tears of the old women? Will you be ready? Will I?”

Coming after the failed attempt to find Gerald’s mother, this quotation both honors grandmothers (especially Granny) and suggests the enormous gulf between the level of responsibility shown by Granny and by Gerald’s parents. This passage is Gerald’s most direct homage to his Granny in the book, and it is clear that they often disagreed on matters. Even so, Granny clearly provides a model of consistency and dependability that was essential for young Gerald to develop and mature despite his parents’ shortcomings. The passage also reminds us of Granny’s own suffering and suggests the importance of such women in many families (especially lower-income families). Granny’s dedication despite poverty and no opportunity for material advancement highlights the seemingly uncrossable divide between the average citizens of low-income communities and the elite families connected with Ivy League schools.

“You want to tell [Doris] she’s a racist. You want to cry. You want to go home and stay. But you can’t do that. This is jail—act like it. Change. At least she gave you some instruction. At least your words still work and Professor Ehrgood gave you an A in English. At least Coach Reno gave you a shot at a starting spot on the varsity in the fall. At least Yale gave you money to fly home for the summer. Hurry up and go. Rest. You have three more years to survive.”

This passage concisely portrays Gerald’s internal struggle as he works to conform to Yale’s norms during his freshman year. His assertion that Yale is jail expresses the extreme nature of this challenge. No other passage so directly identifies Gerald’s almost involuntary compulsion to completely revamp who he is once he arrives at Yale. Gerald later describes the success of this effort as the cause of his metaphorical death.

“I closed my eyes to pray. It had a good while since I’d talked to God. For most of my life, I had not really talked to him but beseeched him, begged him; begged him for stuff, tried to make him explain everything to me. But for the first time, I didn’t go to God desperately. Didn’t have my hat in my hand. We had our first honest chat, me and God, two old friends sitting on the porch on a summer afternoon sipping some lemonade before they take a ride. You ready to go? Yep, I’m ready. That was the gist of our conversation. I meant it. It’s so strange how we spend so much of our lives running from death, turning into heroes and cowards because of it, giving death grand dimensions with the stories we tell about it. But death comes and it has no real meaning and, even still, it feels simple and right. Feels so much better than most of life. At least, it did that night.”

This quotation appears during the home robbery in which Gerald, Granny, and Tashia are tied up. It comes just after Gerald feels the cold metal of a gun against his head. It is the only time in the book that Gerald seems to seriously consider his own death. It is not the glorious, sobbing affair that his metaphorical “death” becomes. Instead, this incident reveals a certain solitude and peaceful resignation within Gerald. It contrasts sharply with his very active pursuit of success and his constant networking.

“I wonder if that’s what he came to love—that’s not the word, I know—about me. How well I kept my mouth shut. I wonder how I came to believe that silence was better than uncomfortable words.”

This quotation, which is taken from a passage about Gerald’s relationship with River before their intense period, succinctly conveys the dominance of unspoken emotion and concern in Gerald’s sexual relationships. The silence that Gerald references here seems to be a dominant feature of his romantic relationships throughout most of the book. One wonders whether that silence is reflective of his silence (and active concealment) regarding his homosexuality, or whether it is more a part of the personality characteristics that led Gerald to become what everyone else wanted while losing himself in the process.

“If you catch a whiff of confusion when you read that I, Casey Gerald, one of the most bitter and reclusive boys to ever attend Yale College, evolved almost overnight (two years of nights, actually) into a leader of anybody, then you are not alone.

This brief quotation signals a major transition in Gerald: the last phase of his growth toward the symbol of possibility that many saw him to be. Although Gerald later repudiates this quest, the second half of his Yale years seem dedicated to developing his leadership abilities and credentials. This particular quote reminds readers how improbable Gerald’s rise is and foreshadows how profound the future change in his perspective and goals will be.

“[N]etwork: a word that, having hardly heard it before going to Yale, and having heard it over and over again ever since, I have come to believe defines today the way repent defined the days of my youth and discover defined the days of Columbus and Cortes and Drake, with the same promise of glory for some, of ruin for others, and of a new world, like it or not, for all.” 

This passage highlights the importance of networking and how the quality of one’s network can affect a person’s success in many areas of 21st-century life, especially in the rarified circles to which Yale grants Gerald access. At the same time, it captures Gerald’s skepticism that such increasing dependence on who one knows is a good thing overall, along with his pragmatic acceptance of the facts and circumstances he encounters.

“The retching stomach knot and threat of tears at the sight or sound of something, anything, that struck me as unnecessary or unfair human suffering (especially if it was my human suffering)—this was the most innate quality I possessed.” 

This quote appears when Gerald is considering the creation of what would become the Black Men’s Union, which he hopes will address the problems of disadvantaged people like those in the neighborhood where he grew up. This passage is perhaps the most explicit statement of the longing for justice that seems to drive all of Gerald’s striving and decision-making.

“In the time that I’d been watching Elijah, as we became friends, I saw—or came to believe—that he was a bit like a stray cat who, sensing you near, freezes, back arched, kitten-roar ready. Don’t come any closer. But if you just stand there and watch him, and don’t make any sudden moves, the roar will become a purr, the back will relax. After a few days or months, you may find the cat on your porch every morning, roaring at the mailman. In this way, I suppose, I became a part of everything he needs because Elijah saw this same trait in me. Besides, there were few other places to turn. Si I stood there, nice and easy, and did not get angry when he said no. Just kept on asking and, in time, he joined [the Black Men’s Union].”

Gerald’s description of Elijah gives a sense of the difficulties both of them had in Yale’s social environment; it also conveys the slow-growing nature of their friendship. It becomes particularly poignant when, later, we learn that Elijah may have felt betrayed when Gerald treated him as any other in resolving a dispute. The italicized words reference what Elijah’s guardian once said of him: It was important that he have everything he needs because he probably could not handle being disappointed again.

“The American dream is real. Not that foolishness you hear from politicians—If you work hard and play by the rules you can do anything, be anybody, in this country. I’m talking about the real American dream, the way the country actually works: If you know the right people, they can help you do anything, be anybody, rules and hard work be damned—as long as they like you. They do have to like you, and that takes a good deal of work.” 

This quotation provides a clear and direct statement of Gerald’s understanding of the American dream as the American reality. Essentially, it explains his efforts to fit in at Yale, to reform many things about himself to be liked by the people who have the power to help him.

“I’ve never been president, so I don’t know for sure, but I bet it has less to do with the particulars of the job and a lot more to do with the fact that any president […] is not just a person but a symbol—and symbol is truly the loneliest job in the world.” 

This passage comes after Gerald learns he did not get the Rhodes Scholarship, as he reflects on what his chance at the scholarship meant to the people in his home community, and also on the comparison of him to Barak Obama. This conveys his understanding of what it feels like to be a symbol of something for others.

“I have witnessed or been a part of only one true meritocracy in my thirty years: the game of football. It all goes back to one afternoon at South Oak Cliff, when I walked into the locker room with a request for Coach Price: six senior football players wanted to attend tutoring for our math class—one day a week, we’d need to come late, only one hour late, to practice. Coach Price leaned back in his swivel chair. He crossed his legs at the ankle. Took off his glasses. Slid his tongue over his front teeth. Now lemme make sure I heard you right […] You n***** wanna go to tutoring? Hmph. Okay. Okay. I thought, by his silence, that he supported our request. He sat there with his eyes closed. I stood there, waiting. Gone on! He shouted, jerking up in his chair, eyes buckled. He slammed a folded newspaper on the ground. Take your fucking asses to tutoring! One hour. I’ll be John Brown. One goddamn hour. Now here we are, six weeks away from the Lancaster game. Six weeks! You walk in my office and say you wanna give up one hour of practice a week. One hour of my practice. For tutoring! Okay. Alright. But lemme ask you something. What in the hell do you think them n***** at Lancaster are gonna be doing in that hour, while you’re upstairs licking your math teacher’s ass? Huh? They ain’t gonna be in tutoring, I’ll tell you that. The n***** are gonna be practicing! Putting in six more hours of practice than you n*****! And with those six extra hours, they gone step right on the field, and they gone drive they feet right up y’all’s motherfucking asses. That’s what’s gone happen. But yeah. Gone on to tutoring. Close my goddamn door. None of us went to math tutoring. We went to practice. And we defeated Lancaster, even if we did not drive our feet up their asses. We also, at least I did, came to believe—because we had seen it for ourselves—that you can only get out of the game what you’re willing to put into it. You don’t work, you don’t eat.”

This quotation serves several functions. It explains why Gerald did not feel defeated despite Yale’s loss in their final game and his own failure to obtain the Rhodes Scholarship. Through Coach Price’s words, it also illustrates the striking distance between Gerald’s underprivileged youth and his experience in the overprivileged world of Yale. It also highlights some facets of Gerald’s tenacity and work ethic, which are essential aspects of his character.

“[W]hen I think of the change that took place in Elijah after the Union was saved, I remember him at seventeen, on his recruiting visit, remember his guardian’s warning: He can’t be let down again. I remember that don’t come any closer cat, the cat that wound up on the porch every morning—the cat that I had been myself. I remember all the times I was let down by those I trusted most, the scars it caused, the nightmares it sent. I remember all this and think of my question—What matters most, your friend or your cause?—and know that I answered it wrong, all wrong. Your friend is your cause. Choose him. Every time.” 

Gerald makes clear his remorse for his inability to provide Elijah what may have avoided his suicide: a deep connection, a bond between close friends. Gerald’s drive to succeed occasionally blinded him to the human elements of life. Perhaps that blindness was necessary in the face of adversity and upheaval, and it is clear that he has since overcome it, but its potential role in Elijah’s death comes through as Gerald’s most troubling regret from his time at Yale. His acceptance of responsibility and eagerness to acknowledge his mistakes suggest the ability to learn and grow from mistakes, as well as a strong moral need to make his decisions with the greater good in mind.

“[I]f we need anything right now, it is some understanding, and so the best I’ve come up with is based on the hunch [that] President O[bama] was as much a symbol as he was a man, such that, as with every symbol, the best way to talk about him (and tell the truth) is to talk about us and gamble that a composite sketch of our desires and beliefs will form at least a faint image of him—and if not that, then at least a glimpse of the time that produced him and the world he tried to shape.” 

This quotation, which connects to Gerald’s experiences in Berlin and Washington, DC, provides clear insight into Gerald’s understanding of what it means to be a symbol. Several times, Gerald compares himself with Barack Obama primarily because Obama was clearly a symbol and Gerald was being asked (and driving himself) to become a symbol for his people. Given Gerald’s ambition, Obama clearly provided the best role model. However, upon learning that symbols are not just individuals, that they also carry the hopes and dreams of others, Gerald realizes the personal cost of becoming one. This quote suggests his admiration for Obama, despite his ultimate rejection of the role of symbol for himself.

“After all, the boy that I was at that time would have leapt, despite his fears, at the chance to be harmed—with luck, assassinated—to sacrifice everything, even life, for a cause, a cause greater than himself. There was something shocking, however—not that there should have been, but there was—in the notion that he might be harmed, killed even, for nothing more than being himself, which he had not even tried to do in the first place. Not only had this thought never crossed his mind, but it was heresy. Not plausible.” 

This quotation captures the moment when Gerald decides to abandon his campaign for Congress, which comes immediately after he speaks with the consultant who points out that running for office as a gay man in Texas could pose physical dangers, and after Gerald has strategized with Brenda Cox to present his homosexuality as part of his campaign. The next morning, Gerald cries profusely and does so for some time. This quote captures the moment’s climax, which is the breaking point that causes Gerald to turn inward and reconsider his life.

“And so I am glad that Casey Gerald died that night and the days thereafter—that he realized he was already dead, had been dead for a long time, had confused the most important words of all: life and death.” 

This passage shares Gerald’s interpretation of what he experienced upon deciding not to pursue his campaign. He allows himself to make a choice for his own benefit, based on what he wants rather than on meeting or exceeding expectations. In doing so, he realizes that he has ignored himself to meet such expectations for most of his life. In that sense, Gerald—the voice inside him with needs and desires—is long dead. Making this choice for himself brings him back to life.

“My question at the time was simply: What is wrong with me? Ever wonder that? If so, my admonition is this: Stop. Drop whatever’s in your hand. Leave your basket in the aisle. Retrace your steps out the door. Find the crack. Try to find its source, understand its reason, excuse or not. Try. That is all I knew to do. ”

This passage provides a final summary of Gerald’s experience of discovering his prior errors and of losing himself. He seeks to provide some insight that may benefit others who need to start a similar journey of self-discovery but must stop making an error first. Also notable is Gerald’s thought that understanding reasons for behavior is more important than determining whether these reasons excuse behavior.