The cuckoo clock in the White residence represents Carrie’s dread at the passage of time and her hope (or lack thereof) for the future. While many of Carrie’s peers look forward to life beyond high school, Carrie’s repressive upbringing and inability to escape her mother Margaret’s abuse makes it difficult for her to see any hope in her future. Throughout the novel, the Black Forest cuckoo clock ticks away the moments during events that fill Carrie with dread and terror, reflecting Carrie’s emotional anguish. Attending prom with Tommy is a glimmer of hope for Carrie, which is why Carrie is terrified that it is a prank. As she waits for Tommy to pick her up, she tracks the time on the cuckoo clock, her anxiety growing with each passing minute as she considers the possibility that Tommy will never come and she will once again be trapped in her mother’s house, never allowed to grow up and enjoy her life on her own terms. Later, when Carrie goes to prom and Margaret is home alone, the cuckoo clock ticks as Margaret contemplates killing Carrie—then, it falls onto the floor and breaks, showing that Margaret has made up her mind and plans to kill Carrie, robbing Carrie of a better future once and for all.
The Black Forest Cuckoo Clock Quotes in Carrie
The only way to kill sin, true black sin, was to drown it in the blood of
(she must be sacrificed)
a repentant heart. Surely God understood that, and had laid His finger upon her. Had not God Himself commanded Abraham to take his son Isaac up upon the mountain?
She shuffled out into the kitchen in her old and splayed slippers, and opened the kitchen utensil drawer. The knife they used for carving was long and sharp and arched in the middle from constant honing. She sat down on the high stool by the counter, found the sliver of whetstone in its small aluminum dish, and began to scrub it along the gleaming edge of the blade with the apathetic, fixated attention of the damned.
The Black Forest cuckoo clock ticked and ticked and finally the bird jumped out to call once and announce eight-thirty.
She would pick herself up very soon now, and sneak home by the back streets, keeping to the shadows in case someone came looking for her, find Momma, admit she had been wrong—
(!! NO !!)
The steel in her—and there was a great deal of her—suddenly rose up and cried the word out strongly. The closet? The endless, wandering prayers? The tracts and the cross and only the mechanical bird in the Black Forest cuckoo clock to mark off the rest of the hours and days and year and decades of her life?
[…]
She rolled over on her back, eyes staring wildly at the stars from her painted face. She was forgetting
(!! THE POWER !!)
It was time to teach them a lesson. Time to show them a thing or two. She giggled hysterically. It was one of Momma’s pet phrases.