Short Stop: #7. Alice Munro’s “The Found Boat”

Last year, I was rummaging through a used bookstore to see what titles would catch my eye. Somewhere among the endless titles was the author Alice Munro, whose Pulitzer Prize-winning anthology “Something I’ve Been Meaning to Tell You” was staring back at me. With curiosity, I bought it with intent on seeing if there was something about her prose that spoke to me. With phenomenal blurbs on the back, I’ve taken up the challenge of working my way through these pages to see if I have found a new favorite. Given that she has a fascination with time and interpersonal relationships, I’m sure this will be a fulfilling journey. The only way to find out is to dive right in.

There is something disarming about having “The Found Boat” follow “Tell Me Yes Or No” in this collection. For starters, the previous entry is a much more complex and accomplished story. There is an ambiguity that allows the reader to contemplate themes and even read into details that may or may not be there. Meanwhile, “The Found Boat” suffers from being all too simple. There is a plot and it does reach a logical conclusion, but there’s still the sense that what’s here is not encouraging readers to backtrack and find hidden clues. Whatever was there on the surface is the core substance. This could be that, chronologically, this was one of Munro’s earlier stories before she had really established a voice.

Even with all of these perceived shortcomings, there’s a sense that maybe there’s a charm in the simplicity of the story. It’s a nice vision of where a career started but also a more primitive form of youth and sexuality, especially as it relates to the 1950s. Given that Munro grew up during this period, it’s easy to see her pulling from her own experiences as she details the story of Eva and Carol in their quest to hang out with three boys who have found a boat floating somewhere in the dirty, junk-filled water. It’s a moment not unlike a Little Rascals short, albeit with more of a sexually curious mindset. There isn’t anything necessarily perverted about the approach. There’s an innocence, and in it lies Munro’s ability to get away with a lack of nuance. 

It could be because of how well “The Found Boat” comments on gender roles of the 1950s as well as the writer’s relationship with them. Throughout the anthology so far, there is an awareness and occasional subversion of the roles that men and women play in their world. There is a submissiveness and duty-bound nature to her protagonists, who are at times at odds with their more carefree husbands. The moments of freedom reflect desires that were simple in their goal. They simply wanted to express themselves and be recognized for their accomplishments. “Tell Me Yes Or No” even begins by having the protagonist try to separate herself from the happy housewives, of which she can’t relate to. There is a thrill in having an affair. Then again, the story is filled with a sense of history and a life full of these trials and tribulations. By comparison, “The Found Boat” suffers/benefits from a lack of the same.

So, what are the gender roles being explored in this story? They’re more direct this time around. Upon finding a boat that has sunk into the river, the three boys go about fixing it. Eva and Carol’s job is mostly to observe from a distance, admiring the crafty nature of their masculine counterparts. They’re able to resolve issues in ways that have been publicly celebrated. Meanwhile, there is helplessness to the women. They’re simply observers who comment on the action. Their story hasn’t started in any meaningful way. There is a point where they are offered the chance to cook the tar for the boat, but that’s the extent of their involvement. Given that this takes place in the 1950s, there’s a good chance that Munro was making a clever nod to the idea of women as caregivers, who cook for men. Their work helps to stabilize the societal norms with the boat symbolizing the concept of a future being kept afloat.

What are they going to do when the boat finally sets sail? There’s not a whole lot of a plan going on. The river could just take them aimlessly away from where they are. Maybe it’s a symbol for the river of life and a need for some sense of progress. Nothing has really happened beyond the boat, but it’s crucial to the entire story. Maybe it’s what the youth of the 1950s saw as their future, in some ways part of nature and inescapable. The inevitable need to get on a boat and travel along was part of growing up, and they were about to experience some playful, naïve ways of understanding male-female relationships. While their age is never specified, it’s easy to believe that they’re young, maybe even preteens or early high school, suggesting that so much lies ahead literally and figuratively.

There’s an additional scene upon the completion of the boat where they have entered a home with broken windows. They do what any child does and play a game of Truth or Dare. It’s silly and feels a bit dangerous. There’s casual profanity that even in its vulgarity has a lack of offensiveness. They are just children testing their limits. Given that they’re in a building, it could suggest things like a metaphorical broken home. Munro’s used to failed marriages, so maybe Eva is looking back on a part of her life where her opinions of men changed. It could be that, or something more childlike, such as the idea of breaking a window via children playing recklessly like a baseball through a window. The glass in itself reflects a danger to their safety, but they don’t care. They’ve taken to the Truth or Dare approach for the night, and things will direct their course. It’s exciting. It’s thrilling. If they can escape unscathed, then everything will be okay.

The finale is where the bulk of the potential contemplation comes from. Whereas men have had agency up until this point, there is a sense that skinny dipping could turn the tide. The women have exposed themselves and thus have created something desirable to the men. Suddenly they have gone from being the observers to being observed. They are able to persuade, and there’s some joy in this simple, predictable action. Again, nothing substantial has happened in this story otherwise, but the idea that being the most vulnerable a person can be comes center stage for the conclusion. It’s all been a childish curiosity up to this point where any flirtation is laughed off. However, the ending provides some ambiguity and reason to be taken aback.

Having entered the river for some skinny dipping, the women enjoy their freedom. However, there is one small moment that makes Eva self-conscious. A man swallows water only to spit it back onto her between her breasts. It’s another act of silliness, like a ceramic cherub water fountain. However, it’s also one that can be seen as invalidating, maybe even humiliating through a coded sexual act. Eva submerges herself in the river, as if trying to escape the emotions and wash away this terrible memory. It’s a reminder that for whatever power she thinks she has, the men still see them as objects to play with and mold with whatever orifice they wish to shoot things out of. The game quickly stops becoming fun after this, and soon Eva and Carol come to the story’s conclusion to stay in the river.

If there’s any symbolism to be found in the story, it’s likely the presence of the boat and the river. The boat is a manmade creation designed to carry them to some unknown shore. It represents their personal accomplishments and societal ability to progress stably. So long as everyone stays on top of it, there’s no reason to fear the worst. The boat is complacency, an ability to not worry. Meanwhile, the river could be a symbol of nature where time and life moves forward, forcing everyone to the inevitable. Together, they clash and as evident by the opening section break. The boat may be fixed, but the river is full of failed adventures as well as other junk that has fallen apart, lost to time as it’s worn away by the currents. 

In the case of this story, it could be that Eva’s skinny dipping itself reflects behaviors trapped in the past. They’re juvenile to begin with, but there’s something made worse about the men humiliating her. She’s not on the boat, so in some sense helpless to their progress. They can move forward with or without her. Even if she cooked the tar, they’d be able to fix something up and grow up still childish. If Eva doesn’t make her own effort, she’ll be helpless and unable to survive either in the water or on the boat. It’s not her craft. She is alone even with Carol by her side. Basically, men have and will continue to have it easier because they don’t see the follies of their ways.

The ending is interesting because whereas most of the story can be seen as focusing on innocence, there’s a clarity that maybe things have a more insidious undertone. Eva and Carol don’t leave the water to expose themselves once again. Instead, there’s now awareness of what men, even those too naïve to recognize bad intentions, could do. They are off to do something without them. It’s not clear what, but provided they spin the accusations on Eva and Carol, they’re prepared to blame them for a variety of things. Suddenly the childish tattletales begin to have some real world sensibilities. Is this alluding to rape or something more mundane like name calling? Munro leaves it up to interpretation, though the jarring nature with which the ambiguity enters allows some suggestion that Eva may be young, but she’s not stupid. Given how she has had to fend for herself, having this perceived leverage becomes her new tool. Men may be able to build the physical structures she needs to survive, but she still has her body, her brain. As she just witnessed, it’s maybe all that she has but it’s gotten her this far.

Again, this is an earlier Munro story so it doesn’t have the substance of her later stories. It can be considered one of her weaker stories, though even within that read there’s plenty here that suggests that this is a fixture and not a bug. Because Eva perceives herself as weak, the story’s narrative devices are flimsier, reflecting something more direct and less nuanced. She doesn’t understand men. She maybe doesn’t understand herself. Everything is mere observation, and “The Found Boat” is her trying to understand how women fit into the larger patriarchy. It’s true that the other stories do this better and with more satisfying twists, but as a youthful tale of mischief, it does add a lot of weight to perceived shortcomings.

“The Found Boat” may not be the best story featured in this collection so far, but it does work as a complementary piece to everything that has preceded it. The ability to stare into youth with a nostalgic yet cautious eye shows the small ways that women are taught to protect themselves and perceive the men in their lives. Simple acts like spraying water come to hold this greater offense and it’s important to build a thick skin that protects them from any worse attack. Things start small and only grow bigger. There’s been a lot of terrible, irresponsible men in these stories so far. Knowing where things are about to go, “The Found Boat” sets sail with a nice retrospective lesson that may not do a lot but definitely says a lot. 



Coming Up Next: “Executioners”

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