Fat Kid Extension

Novel Response Extension Assignment

I have chosen a flashback sequence that might readily be inserted into the text of Going's Fat Kid Rules the World. The insertion point for the flashback text that follows would be on page 155 in Chapter 78. In fact, this sequence may substitute completely for the second full paragraph in the chapter, and I have borrowed from the dialogue already in the text to tie the flashback cohesively to the story as it is.

In the text, Troy always uses a highly vernacular and conversational style. It is entirely first person narrated, and paints a picture of highly introverted self-talk that is painfully self-conscious to the point of paranoid delusion about the way those around him are thinking. Although Troy has good reasons for such paranoid introversion, suggested in his anecdotes of horrible abuse by school bullies and an insensitive society, it takes Curt's 'wisdom' to help Troy step outside of his paranoid introversion and allow him to see a world populated by people just as scared and lonely as he is. In this flashback, I have tried to capture the tenor and language used by Troy throughout the text, at the point in the plot where he has just begun to recognize his own paranoid introversion, and in so doing, seeing broader significance in the actions of others from his memory. For example, it is just past this point in the novel that Troy realizes how much his brother is trying to be like his father. "I think he's trying so hard to be Dad, he might choke. I've never noticed this before" (Going 173).

The minimal flashback already in the text suggests a mental connection for Troy in his current hospital visit and the memory of the death of his mother. The moment is pivotal to Troy's own recognition of the former hospital trauma being a turning point for his personality and it is contrasted against the same thing happening again, with potentially positive outcomes for both patient and protagonist.

The text is replete with examples of Troy suggesting that his mother's death was a turning point in his life. He is at least very clear that "the day Mom died [. . .] I was a skinny kid" (Going 155). His weight gain seems to be textually related to that point in history. In the family and social trauma that falls out, Troy relegates himself to the role of loser, let-down and laughing-stock, perhaps as some sort of penance for having disappointed his brother, impotent to save his mother, and becoming a burden to his father.


"Sorry, kids, but you'll have to wait outside."
The friendliness in the doctor's voice was still present but it had become contrived, rehearsed. Dayle looked at me bewildered. I couldn't pretend I was any wiser and gave the doctor the same bewildered look. He formulaically explained that we would just be in the way while they tried to help our mother and ushered us towards the door. Damn, I was mad. This may be just the next dying woman on his daily roster, but it was my mom! The last minutes of my mother's life, and we didn't meet the age requirement! In my anger I was shaking my head back and forth when Dayle's eyes caught mine. He wasn't moving. He wasn't angry. He was scared and holding his head perfectly still, staring at me. I could tell that he was waiting for me to stop, to calm down and to explain to him what was happening. He held my hand so tight the circulation stopped. My hand was almost white. I tried to gently pry it free, not because of the discomfort, but to try and create the illusion that such fear was unnecessary. His face went as white as my hand and he began to shake. Dad in the hospital room, and Mom dying, I was the only familiar face he could turn to. He didn't understand enough to be angry and was left only with fear. My stomach started to ache. It was in that moment that I became 'Big Brother'. It was a proving ground for my strength of character, my ability to relieve him from his pain, to be that worthy sibling that makes everything right. I wasn't ready for the challenge and I failed him. I wrapped my skinny arms around him and held him close. The quiver in my voice betrayed dishonesty as I told him that he was being silly. There was no reason to be so scared. The Doctor's had helped Mom before and they would surely do it again. I kept saying, "Everything will be all right. She'll be fine. I promise."
Mom died later that day. Dad emerged from the hospital room in silent serenity. He was cold and distant but trying to be comforting. He shook his head at me with a finally sad expression to let me know that Mom was gone. Dayle looked up at me as if to ask what Dad meant by his wordless communication. All Dad said was, "You boys can go in now. Your mother is already gone, but I thought you might need to say goodbye. We start life in a new world today and we'll need all of our strength to do it. Go say goodbye to your mother." I can't imagine how difficult it must be to tell the children you love that the woman you love, their mother, is dead. I think, in retrospect, Dayle came to admire Dad's stoic strength in getting through such a difficult time. I think I became afraid of it because I had not been so stoic. I had broken down emotionally for months and added to Dad's parental burden, and the grocery bill.
The morning after Mom died, we all woke up early. The moment of interrupted slumber that often happens so early in the morning was immediately seized upon by memory and grief. Any hope of snoozing a bit longer was not available. By the time I stumbled into the kitchen, Dad and Dayle were already there. Dayle stuck close to Dad like a shadow, perhaps trying to draw strength from Dad's expressionless and stoic mourning. Dad said little if anything and every action was intentional and controlled. I sensed a feeling of disgust towards me for being the one who had been able to sleep the longest considering Mom had just died. I wasn't sure if Dad had slept at all.
I looked at my father and brother, but didn't make eye contact. I couldn't. I could tell Dayle felt I had lied to him, and I had. I had not saved Mom. I had done nothing. I had promised him that everything would be all right. I had promised him that Mom would be fine. I had promised.
But she wasn't.
And I wasn't. And he wasn't.
And Dad was living a shattered dream: the burden of maternal responsibility added to the loss of his beloved wife and life without even a moment to mourn. Mom's absence filled every corner of the apartment. My stomach hurt. I wasn't hungry, but instinctively I opened the fridge and pulled out the plate of leftover pork chops. I heated them in the microwave and their delicious scent took me away from the pain for a moment. The scent was the memory of my mother. She had made them. She was a great cook and this was the last thing she ever did for us, the last thing she would ever do for us, her last motherly act. I was about to eat the last remnants of my mother's love and yet I didn't feel guilty. It was like some sort of weird maternal communion, like being hugged by an absent mother through her cooking. If you can't love her, then love her food. FAT KID WAITING TO HAPPEN.



I have intentionally finished the flashback sequence with a "FAT KID . . ." statement that is consistent with the style of the text as Troy summarily views himself, self-defined only as 'fat kid', in different situations. The statement I have made in this style and tenor points to this memory as his perceived beginning of his career as 'fat kid'. The fact that this flashback is already minimally begun in the text and that it is a clearly climactic point of anagnorisis for Troy, allows my emotional expansion of the moment to meld seamlessly with the text. Furthermore, the use of tenor and style that I have noted above I think is fairly consistent. On a thematic level, the criticism of my insert might suggest that my interpretation comes at the expense of the idea that Troy's weight is not a mere function of an emotional turning point, and that some people are overweight naturally and experience the type of life that Troy describes. Conversely, the idea of natural obesity might be championed further by the notion that part of the emotional milieu of an obese person often seeks historical moments upon which to blame the disability. In this sense, the passage I have added would suggest that Troy is not experiencing anagnorisis, but rather further deluding himself that his 'failure' at his mother's death was the reason for his obesity, when his weight was merely a natural side-effect of his physical development. Either way, the insert works well within the text proper and lends itself to at least the aforementioned two interpretations of its importance to the text thematically.

Works Cited
Going, K. L. Fat Kid Rules the World. Toronto: Penguin Group, 2003.