The Cathedral

The Cathedral

Oftentimes, people jump into situations with pre-conceived notions. In The Cathedral, by Raymond Carter, the narrator starts off the story in a bad mood. His wife has invited a man that employed her for a summer, ten years before, to come and stay with them. In the time since, the narrator’s wife and Robert (the only character Carter saw fit to name in the story) have stayed in touch by recording messages to each other on tapes and mailing them back and forth. At first, the narrator does not want “the blind man” – Robert – to come and stay with them, even though he had just lost his wife. The reader learns that he has never known a blind person, and that he is creeped out by the possibility of having one spend the night at his house. In the end, the narrator is convinced by his wife to allow the houseguest.

When Robert arrives, the narrator seems to see him as something less than a person. Upon first seeing him, the narrator tells the reader that “he was wearing a beard! A beard on a blind man! Too much, I say.” Throughout the story, the narrator continually references Robert simply as the “blind man,” as though he is a thing with only a description, instead of a person with a name. But as the story goes on, the narrator’s disapproval of his visitor gradually become feelings of respect and admiration. When he asks Robert what he would like to drink, the blind man responds “I’m a Scotch man myself.” The narrator replies approvingly “Sure you are. I knew it.” Next, he asks Robert if he would like “[a] little water with [his] Scotch,” (meaning ice). Robert responds that he only wants a little, explaining how he, like “[t]he Irish actor, Barry Fitzgerald,” prefers to drink his whisky and his water separately. Many traditionalists are of the opinion that adding ice to a good spirit ruins the drink. The narrator’s responds again with “I knew it,” meant to be a compliment to the “blind man.”

The narrator’s opinion of Robert only seems to get better. During dinner, he seems impressed by Robert. “The blind man had right away located his foods, he knew just where everything was on his plate. I watched with admiration as he used his knife and fork on the meat.” After dinner, the narrator invites Robert to smoke some Marijuana with him. When Robert agrees, the narrator responds with, “Damn right… That’s the stuff.” Although it is his first time trying the “gimbly gimbly,” after several tokes, the narrator says it was “like he’d been doing it since he was nine years old.” Robert is growing on the narrator by the minute. Just then, the wife falls asleep on the couch (or passes out), leaving the two men in what the reader expects to be an awkward situation. When the narrator offers to show Robert to his room for the night, the blind man replies “No, I’ll stay with you, bub. If that’s all right.” And the narrator finds himself answering back “That’s all right… I’m glad for the company.” This seems to be the turning point in the story, when the narrator really does seem to enjoy having Robert at his house.

As the two sat up watching/listening to late-night TV, they eventually find themselves on a documentary about the history of cathedrals. Eventually, the narrator wonders if Robert has any understanding of what a cathedral even is. Although it is difficult for him to explain, the narrator forces himself to try, thinking (to the reader) “How could I even begin to describe it? But say my life depended on it. Say my life was being threatened by an insane guy who said I had to do it or else.” At this point, he really cares about Robert, the man he had dreaded meeting because he was uncomfortable with his blindness. As the narrator finds his explanation to be terribly unhelpful, Robert comes up with an idea. The narrator draws the cathedral, while Robert follows along, so that he can understand what one is like. As the blind man closes his hand over the narrator’s, they seem to share a moment. Together, they draw the cathedral on the paper bag that serves as their make-shift canvas. Near the end of the process, Robert asks the narrator to close his eyes too, and continue drawing. As they share this moment, something special happens. As Mr. Coon said, perhaps putting words to what happens would make it sound corny, but the out of body experience the narrator seems to have, drawing with the blind man serves as the climax of the story. The narrator says (or rather thinks), “My eyes were still closed. I was in my house. I knew that. But I didn’t feel like I was inside anything. ‘It’s really something,’ I said.” The narrator finally accepts Robert for who he is as a person, not what he seems to be because of his handicap.