Glass House
In the play “Glass Menagerie” by Tennessee Williams, Tom, the son of Amanda and the brother of Laura, is an aspiring poet who works in a shoe warehouse in order to support his mother and sister. His only escape of the emotional entrapment he feels is by going to the movies and getting lost in the reading of literature. The obvious burden he carries internally for having to be the sole provider for the family (his father is absent) as well as the guilt of wanting to escape his life, is eating at him. Tom’s mother fails to give him necessary room to breathe and therefore, he is struggling to hold onto his patience. She [the mother] continues to overstep and infringe upon his space by returning “that horrible novel back to the library” (981). Tom struggles with the guilt from having to support his family, which his father deserted. His sister further weighs heavily on his mind because she is painfully shy, docile and disabled. Tom tries to fix his sister up with a coworker, Jim O’Connor, at his mother’s request, but fails this attempt miserably because John is already going steady with another gal. Not only does providing for the family rest on Tom, “Who pays rent on it, who makes a slave of himself” (981), but also the welfare of his sister. Tom spends his time on the fire escape, trying to break away from the responsibilities to which he is chained. However, the magician is able to get “out of the coffin without removing one nail” (984), yet Tom’s home is symbolic of a coffin and leaving means breaking family loyalty.
PAGE TWO My father always told me that if I could count my friends on one hand, I should consider myself very lucky. As I got older, I found this lesson to be very true. Friends come and go, but not all are friends…some are just acquaintances. I remember having someone I thought was a friend. She would call me over to have coffee or go shopping. I enjoyed her company very much, even though our time together was getting
PAGE TWO My father always told me that if I could count my friends on one hand, I should consider myself very lucky. As I got older, I found this lesson to be very true. Friends come and go, but not all are friends…some are just acquaintances. I remember having someone I thought was a friend. She would call me over to have coffee or go shopping. I enjoyed her company very much, even though our time together was getting