Lionel Character Analysis

Lionel had made only three mistakes in his entire life, the kinds of mistakes that seem small enough at the time, but somehow get out of hand. The kinds that stay with you for a long time. And he could name each one.

“You used to sell televisions and stereos at Bursum’s, too.”

“Yeah, and there’s the difference. I used to sell that crap. But I don’t anymore. I got out and made something of myself. Lionel’s never going to get out. Hell, another couple of years and he’ll be back on the reserve running for council. Besides, you know how I feel about you.”

“It’s one of the reasons I’m going to Blossom.”

The food at the Dead Dog was good, but what drew tourists to the cafe was the ambience and the reputation that it had developed over the years. Latisha would like to have been able to take all the credit for transforming the Dead Dog from a nice local establishment with a loyal but small clientele to a nice local establishment with a loyal but small clientele and a tourist trap. But, in fact, it had been her auntie’s idea.

“Tell them it’s dog meat,” Norma had said. “Tourists like that kind of stuff.”

Bursum doubted that even Lionel understood the unifying metaphor or the cultural impact The Map would have on customers, but that was all right. Lionel, at least, would be able to appreciate the superficial aesthetics and the larger visual nuances of The Map.

The Map. Bursum loved the sound of it. There was a majesty to the name. He stepped back from the screens and looked at his creation. It was stupendous. It was more powerful than he had thought. It was like having the universe there on the wall, being able to see everything, being in control. Yes, Lionel might just appreciate it.

And then again, he might not.

So that Thought Woman takes off her nice clothes, and that one gets into the River.

Whoa! says Thought Woman. That is one cold River. This must be a tricky River.

Swim to the middle, says that tricky River. It is much warmer there.

So Thought Woman swims to the middle of that River and it is warmer there.

This is better, says Thought Woman, and she lies back on the River and floats with the current. Thought Woman floats on that River, and that one goes to sleep.

I am very sleepy, says Thought Woman, and then she goes to sleep.

Hee-hee, says that River. Hee-hee.

By the time Lionel turned to walk down Fourth Street, he had divided the remainder of his life into a series of manageable goals. First, he would resign his position at Bursum’s. Bursum had been good to him and he hated to leave the man in the lurch, but after he explained to Bill how he wanted to get on with his life, he was sure that Bill would understand. And there would be no need to mention that he had never received a raise in all the years he had worked there.

“Come on,” said George. “Come on! It’s the twentieth century. Nobody cares about your little powwow. A bunch of old people and drunks sitting around in tents in the middle of nowhere. Nobody cares about any of this.”

“Go away, George,” said Latisha. “Just go away.”

“You’re a joke!” George’s lips were wet with spit. “You all act like this is important, like it’s going to change your lives. Christ, you guys are born stupid and you die stupid.”

Lionel picked up the case and set it on its feet. “There’s nothing for you here.”

Lionel waited until Charlie’s car disappeared down the road. “So,” he said to Alberta, “you in town for the weekend?”

“That’s right,” said Alberta. “Figured I’d give Norma a hand.”

“With what?”

“With the cabin,” said Norma. “You can help, too.”

Lionel stopped what he was doing and looked at Norma and then he looked at the dam. “You’re not serious?”

“Sure she is, brother,” said Latisha.

“Won’t take much,” said Norma. “We’ll get Harley’s truck and drag as many logs as we can back up here, and what we’re short, we can cut and bring in.”

“That’s a lot of work,” said Lionel.

“My mother did it,” said Norma. “Did it all by herself.”

Alberta set her feet in the mud and put her hands on her hips. “You can help or you can sell televisions.”

Lionel had made only three mistakes in his entire life, the kinds of mistakes that seem small enough at the time, but somehow get out of hand. The kinds that stay with you for a long time. And he could name each one.

“You used to sell televisions and stereos at Bursum’s, too.”

“Yeah, and there’s the difference. I used to sell that crap. But I don’t anymore. I got out and made something of myself. Lionel’s never going to get out. Hell, another couple of years and he’ll be back on the reserve running for council. Besides, you know how I feel about you.”

“It’s one of the reasons I’m going to Blossom.”

The food at the Dead Dog was good, but what drew tourists to the cafe was the ambience and the reputation that it had developed over the years. Latisha would like to have been able to take all the credit for transforming the Dead Dog from a nice local establishment with a loyal but small clientele to a nice local establishment with a loyal but small clientele and a tourist trap. But, in fact, it had been her auntie’s idea.

“Tell them it’s dog meat,” Norma had said. “Tourists like that kind of stuff.”

Bursum doubted that even Lionel understood the unifying metaphor or the cultural impact The Map would have on customers, but that was all right. Lionel, at least, would be able to appreciate the superficial aesthetics and the larger visual nuances of The Map.

The Map. Bursum loved the sound of it. There was a majesty to the name. He stepped back from the screens and looked at his creation. It was stupendous. It was more powerful than he had thought. It was like having the universe there on the wall, being able to see everything, being in control. Yes, Lionel might just appreciate it.

And then again, he might not.

So that Thought Woman takes off her nice clothes, and that one gets into the River.

Whoa! says Thought Woman. That is one cold River. This must be a tricky River.

Swim to the middle, says that tricky River. It is much warmer there.

So Thought Woman swims to the middle of that River and it is warmer there.

This is better, says Thought Woman, and she lies back on the River and floats with the current. Thought Woman floats on that River, and that one goes to sleep.

I am very sleepy, says Thought Woman, and then she goes to sleep.

Hee-hee, says that River. Hee-hee.

By the time Lionel turned to walk down Fourth Street, he had divided the remainder of his life into a series of manageable goals. First, he would resign his position at Bursum’s. Bursum had been good to him and he hated to leave the man in the lurch, but after he explained to Bill how he wanted to get on with his life, he was sure that Bill would understand. And there would be no need to mention that he had never received a raise in all the years he had worked there.

“Come on,” said George. “Come on! It’s the twentieth century. Nobody cares about your little powwow. A bunch of old people and drunks sitting around in tents in the middle of nowhere. Nobody cares about any of this.”

“Go away, George,” said Latisha. “Just go away.”

“You’re a joke!” George’s lips were wet with spit. “You all act like this is important, like it’s going to change your lives. Christ, you guys are born stupid and you die stupid.”

Lionel picked up the case and set it on its feet. “There’s nothing for you here.”

Lionel waited until Charlie’s car disappeared down the road. “So,” he said to Alberta, “you in town for the weekend?”

“That’s right,” said Alberta. “Figured I’d give Norma a hand.”

“With what?”

“With the cabin,” said Norma. “You can help, too.”

Lionel stopped what he was doing and looked at Norma and then he looked at the dam. “You’re not serious?”

“Sure she is, brother,” said Latisha.

“Won’t take much,” said Norma. “We’ll get Harley’s truck and drag as many logs as we can back up here, and what we’re short, we can cut and bring in.”

“That’s a lot of work,” said Lionel.

“My mother did it,” said Norma. “Did it all by herself.”

Alberta set her feet in the mud and put her hands on her hips. “You can help or you can sell televisions.”