Wolf in White Van Essay Draft

Sean Phillips vicariously lives in a world that does not exist. As concerning as that might sound, those who have read John Darnielle’s novel, Wolf in White Van, may understand that there is no other way for Sean to deal with his life-changing accident. The only thing that keeps Sean’s head above water is his first play-by-mail roleplaying game, Trace Italian. Sean’s life provides a glimpse into how coping with traumatic experiences comes in far ranging forms and that is exactly what Darnielle tries to portray in this dark convoluted story.

As this chronologically confusing but impactful novel unfolds, one can immediately sense that Sean is unlike most teenage boys. Besides the fact that he purposely shot himself in the face with a rifle, Sean also emits characteristics of an introvert. This may explain Sean’s incredible knack for creativity, which eventually leads to his own interpretation of recovery. But at times for Sean, being an introvert leads to a tendency to internalize everything. For instance, during a session with a therapist, Sean revealed that he had to lie to his only living grandmother about his incident. To the therapist, this wasn’t much of a concern because she was looking for other troubles while Sean was not. He goes on to say “It gets to the point where you almost want to make something up just to keep them happy, to keep from being the person who makes them feel like they’re wasting their time” (116). Sean seems to be deeply rooted in pleasing others but this in turn hurts him as well.

Another example of this internalizing habit occurs when Sean is introduced to his father’s friend, the owner of a gun store. Instead of speaking up and explaining that he understands the power of guns and the potential consequences of misusing them, Sean merely stands there and nods his head. “Ray carried on for a minute about the power of guns, and the costs of not revering that power; after a while I stopped listening” (120). Even though Sean has good intentions of listening to, albeit obvious advice from an older man, the fact that he does not speak up and defend himself reveals an insecurity Sean chooses to ignore.

Despite his lack of self-confidence, which undoubtedly stems from his facial disfiguration and apparent social disparity, Sean finds an avenue through which he can finally find peace: Trace Italian. To his parents, Sean’s “old school” creation seems like just a hobby and perhaps a way to distract himself from the world around him, but there are deeper implications of his gaming pursuit. To some degree, the Trace provides a space for Sean to re-immerse himself back into society. Although he does not physically interact with his players, Sean feels as if he becomes a part of their lives and to Sean, any social interaction without hearing gasps about his face is better than none at all. Another crucial interpretation of the Trace is that it serves as an ideal escape from reality. Sean doesn’t realize this until he is unable to tell the difference between reality and the Trace because he enjoys being immersed in a world where he is fully in control for once. Who wouldn’t like that?

Roger Luckhurst, in his book The Trauma Question, states that “if trauma is a crisis in representation, then this generates narrative possibility just as much as impossibility, a compulsive outpouring of attempts to formulate narrative knowledge.” This “compulsive outpouring” essentially defines what Sean does when he goes on extremely creative rants about things he labels as ordinary. For example, when Sean revisited the cabinet that held all of his medication and sniffed one of the bottles, he remembered “stories I’d told myself to make taking it less numbing, to give not just meaning but intrigue to my dull condition” (98). It is really fascinating how in depth Sean goes when describing the stories tied to not one, but all of his medication.

In the same fashion, when describing how Kimmy dug through her purse to find a Rush music tape, Sean immediately started to create a narrative of it:

“To me it sounded like somebody shaking up dry bones. I closed my eyes and thought about those old bones in some girl’s purse and then I let my mind go…” (188). To some extent, creating these narratives provided comfort for Sean but that was not enough to cope. Sean recalls making a promise to himself “I didn’t promise myself future success or total recovery. Just escape” (100). In the end, Sean’s creative mind could only be embodied by the Trace Italian where only he would find solace and hopefully provide that same peace for others.

In a world where society shuns those who do not “look” the same as others because of physical disfiguration, Sean Phillips desperately searches for something to ease his physical and emotional pain. What he does not realize is that the creation of Trace Italian becomes more meaningful to him than he expected. Through immersing himself in the Trace, not only does Sean gradually stop internalizing his thoughts, but also sees the world through a more creative lens. No one can truly understand how various coping methods affect individuals and in that sense Darnielle provides significant insight on Sean’s unique ability to find a solution through games.

 

Works Cited:

Darnielle, John. Wolf in White Van, New York: Farrar Straus Giroux, 2014. Print.

Luckhurst, Roger. The Trauma Question, London: Routledge, 2008. Print.