Zora Neale Hurston’s “Spunk,” published in the 1925 Harlem Renaissance collection “The New Negro” in New York, contains many of the elements of a Shakespearean tragedy of the 16th century: fatal character flaws, a struggle between good and evil, a supernatural visit and a catastrophic ending. Shakespeare and other Elizabethan playwrights took inspiration from classical tragedies (particularly Senecan works); one could perhaps say that Hurston’s “Spunk” is a classically-inspired work.
The short story takes place in a rural town simply called the "Village." A lumberjack and notorious womanizer named Spunk has taken interest in a married woman named Lena. Her husband, Joe, timid in nature, gathers up the courage to threaten Spunk with a razor. Spunk shoots him, much to the shock of the Village. Though he escapes punishment and has Lena move in with him, he grows increasingly agitated and claims that Joe has returned to haunt him one night in the form of a screaming bobcat. Spunk meets his end when he falls into a circle saw the next day. Whether the saw was malfunctioning or Joe's spirit pushed him in, which Spunk claims, is left ambiguous.
A critical component of the classical tragedy performance is the chorus. Though they generally took a backseat to the action in a play, this group of people wore masks and performed the musical odes between story episodes, linking them together into a complete story. Much like the chorus in classical tragedies, Hurston’s “Spunk” contains a group of several men that meet between the major events in the story to discuss and speculate. While Hurston’s chorus operates similarly to a classical tragedy chorus (minus the singing), it deviates from its role just enough to have a powerful influence on the two main characters of the story.
The chorus in “Spunk” is mostly nameless and faceless, so as to not draw attention to the identity and lives of its members and place more emphasis on its reactions to the story’s events. Michael Grant writes that the chorus “compliments, illustrates, universalizes, or dramatically justifies the course of events; it comments or moralizes or mythologizes upon what happens, and opens up the spiritual dimension of the theme or displays the reaction of public opinion” (46). Just as the chorus grants us these moments of insight in the odes between episodes, Hurston always returns to the men in the general shop and tunes us in to their opinions, stories and psychoanalysis of the developing drama and its characters.
Through their conversations, more details are added to Spunk and Joe’s conflict: the reader learns their history and the context of their rivalry, and is told about gruesome acts that occur “off-stage” (such as Spunk’s death). Additionally, the audience learns about unusual occurrences that may not be relevant to the story if presented without commentary (e.g. the bobcat sighting and Spunk’s increasing agitation), and none of which are shown to the reader through prose. Patterns are then revealed through the chorus’s discussions. Overall, the chorus’s most important function is to talk, at the expense of playing a more active role: “they all talked of locking [Spunk] up until the sheriff should come from Orlando, but no one did anything but talk” (Hurston 406-407).
Though the chorus does not participate much in “Spunk” in terms of taking direct action in moving the plot forward, it is not totally invisible. It plays a passive function as the community within the story and the other characters are aware of, and react to, its presence.
Because the role of the anonymous chorus includes commentary, the chorus also represents public opinion. For example, after Elijah tells Joe that he saw his wife Lena walking with Spunk, Joe is concerned about more than just another man taking his wife: “He knew that the men lounging in the general store had seen her, moreover, he knew that the men knew he knew” (Hurston 405). The implied question is why Joe hasn’t succeeded in repairing his relationship with Lena yet, and how that affects his social standing in the Village. Nobody tells him that he ought to do it, but Joe feels pressured enough that he announces he is going after Spunk, and pulls out his razor to run his finger along the blade. The gesture is meant to impress the onlookers and display his seriousness, like an exclamation mark following his statement. Even Elijah thinks Joe is just showing off, but isn’t serious about confronting Spunk: “He makes that break outa heah to bluff us. He’s gonna hide that razor behind the first likely palmetto root an' sneak back home to bed” (Hurston 406).
Showing off is even more important to Spunk, who returns to the general shop and calmly announces that he shot Joe, then leads all of the men back into the palmetto thickets to look at the body. He boasts, “He sneaked up an’ tried to kill me from the back, but Ah got him, an’ got him good, first shot” (Hurston 406). By acting unfazed despite having just killed a man, Spunk reaffirms his position to the chorus as the most powerful figure in the Village. Both Spunk and Joe express pride and shame, respectively, which can only exist while in competition with others. If there were no chorus, the two men would not be so concerned about their social image upkeep and Joe might even still be alive.
The chorus deviates from its role as observers at times, to the point where it may be responsible for the course of events and the information revealed to the reader. Most notably, Elijah is the only member of the chorus to reach out to Joe and ask him how his wife is doing. This leads Joe to realize that his troubles with Spunk and Lena are no longer a secret and prompts him to take action, which Elijah praises. Walter then scolds Elijah for egging him on. “You oughtn’t to said whut you did to him, Lige—look how it worked him up,” he says (Hurston 405). The rest of the chorus glares at him “accusingly” when Spunk returns with news that Joe is dead (Hurston 406), suggesting that Elijah should shoulder some blame for Joe’s death, but it doesn’t call him out – staying true to its role as observer.
Two members of the chorus, Elijah being one of them, are also present at the site of Spunk’s fatal accident. Elijah holds Spunk’s hand and listens to his last words, then delivers them word-for-word to the rest of the chorus, to the reader’s benefit as well. This is different from how the chorus disseminated information earlier in the story – by retelling paraphrased, embellished conversations without mention of whether they heard it themselves or from someone else, much like neighbors trading gossip over the fence. It is not a responsibility of the Greek chorus to come to a conclusion or settle any conflicts (Kirkwood 58), but in these two instances, the chorus shifts from its passive role and toward a more participatory direction. Its involvement also balances out the opposite personalities of Spunk and Joe, serving as the third corner of the triangular relationship between the main characters.
Elijah’s interactions with Spunk and Joe challenge his role as a member of the chorus. Classical chorus members traditionally wore masks while performing, which granted them anonymity and signaled to the audience that they represented something larger and more far-reaching than themselves. Elijah’s mask has fallen off, so to speak. As he moves away from the commentary role to “work up” Joe in the first quarter of this short story, perhaps he should be considered a supporting character separate from the other men in the general shop, or even take the chorus’ place as the third corner in the character relationship triangle.
Of course, a chorus that does not involve itself in the affairs of other characters is only one idea of how a chorus should act. Other tragedians had different ideas for the usage of a chorus. Aristotle says in “Poetics” that “the chorus should be regarded as one of the play’s actors and should participate in a drama’s action” (qtd. Thorburn 135). By this definition, the chorus is allowed to take a more active role in the story; therefore Elijah’s actions are allowable. And despite all that he has done and witnessed by stepping away from the group and acting on his own, the chorus still welcomes him as one of its members by asking him what Spunk’s last words were and traveling to Lena’s house as one unit for the wake. Inclusion in the group is a privilege not explicitly granted to Spunk or Joe.
Though the setting, language and characters are distinctively modern, Hurston employs a story structure and technique that dates back thousands of years in “Spunk.” In contrast with the violent events that move the plot forward, the chorus’s effect on the story is subtle. With the exception of Elijah, the men’s involvement in Spunk and Joe’s fight is distant at best. Yet, after taking all of its conversations, revelations, and the concerns of the main characters into consideration, it is the chorus that ties the story together and delivers it as a coherent whole to the reader.