Jacob Blau

Character Analysis

We've all heard of daddy issues. Nobody wants them, but a lot of us have them. Well, Deborah Blau has Jacob Blau. And Jacob Blau gives her plenty of reasons to go a little nuts.

Did we say a little nuts? We meant a lot nuts. So let's break Jacob down.

The Deck Is Stacked Against Him

Jacob is a persistent man, but things don't always work out for him.

Jacob put himself through accounting school at a young age, so he clearly has a go-getter mentality. But when he finally gets an account that puts the Blaus in a good financial position…well, wouldn't you know it? He loses the account, and the Blaus have to sell their house.

Which brings us to the next issue: The Blaus have to move in with Esther's parents. Jacob actually has to endure living with them in the same house. Talk about too close for comfort.

On top of the nightmare of living with his in-laws, his wife is always siding with her father over him. And when your wife's dad is paying the bills and putting you up in a house you could never afford, you kind of have to let go of your dream of being the man of the house.

Jacob's run of bad luck sets the stage for how he handles his daughter's physical and mental illnesses. And it's not so good.

Father Knows Best?

Okay, so Jacob isn't the most alpha of males. In fact, he likes to let his wife take charge while he remains passive on the outside, silently simmering with anger on the inside.

Jacob "let himself be guided by her because it was easy and she was usually right...feeling confused and lonely, he let her talk on—planning and figuring—because it was her way of taking comfort. It was easier for him to be silent" (1.3). Yeah, no one's claiming this guy has healthy coping mechanisms.

Some of Jacob's unhealthy habits might stem from his childhood, but we don't know that much about his past, other than the fact that his family was poor. Jacob's family emigrated from Poland to the United States in 1913, and we're not going to lie: his childhood was rough. This rough childhood motivated him to want to be a good provider and protect his children from that kind of hardship—but it sure didn't motivate him to do things like tell his daughters that they were loved.

In other words, for Jacob, the only thing a "good" father has to really do is be a provider. Being warm and fuzzy just never occurs to him.

When Jacob discovers that it isn't enough to just keep a roof over your kids' heads, he gets a little upset. When providing for his family doesn't prevent Deborah from being sick in the head, in fact, he goes into deep denial. He swears Deborah's just unhappy—not sick (4.20). He hates that he and his wife have to put "little Debby" in a mental hospital:

Confronted with direct questions, he had to agree, and all the facts were trying to make him say "yes," but he had only to submit to his feelings for the smallest moment and his whole world rang with misgivings. (4.4)

Deborah's his little girl. He knows her. He knows her long history of emotional distance, detachment, and retreat to an imaginary land in her head. He knows she's got a record-breaking level of social awkwardness, and he knows about her recent suicide attempt. But he doesn't like the feeling in his gut that Deborah's being locking away.

Jacob doesn't see the mental hospital as a source of help for Deborah; he sees it as an admission of failure as a parent. And he hates that feeling. Seriously, who wouldn't? In fact, the decision to admit Deborah to the hospital remains a major source of inner conflict for him throughout the novel.

Conflicted and in denial over Deborah's sickness, Jacob wants to believe that sending her away to get professional help has been a mistake. If it's a mistake, then that would make him right, and it would mean that Deborah is normal. Jacob is defensive about how he was a good provider for Deborah, and he struggles to accept whatever role he may have played in her illness. As he insists, "We lived simple lives. We lived good lives. We lived in dignity" (4.14).

For Jacob that's enough. But for Deborah, a "good" life is a little trickier to master.

Dysfunction Junction

So, Jacob gave Deborah food and shelter. What more could she want, right? Well, maybe expressions of love, for starters. But Jacob is emotionally stunted in this department—let's just say, he's not a hugger.

Jacob has never been able to be a fun dad who doles out affection: "He, too, loved his daughters, though he had never told them so; he, too, had wished confidences, but was never able to open his own heart; and, because of this, they had also been kept from venturing their secrets" (1.27). What? Deborah is sixteen and has never heard her father say I love you? Yikes. We've got a serious case of warm fuzzy withdrawal here.

Now, nobody wants to be blamed for making someone else crazy, and Jacob is no exception. Dude gets defensive when the hospital sends a letter saying that Deborah doesn't want him to come visit her at the hospital. His response? "Who does she think she is!" (4.39). In fact, when his wife goes to visit, he tags along and watches the mother-daughter date from the corner of the restaurant like a stalker.

Yeah, it's sad to see a guy feeling so rejected, but here's the thing about people who get really defensive like that—they're usually feeling at least a tinge of guilt. Jacob probably knows deep down that there are reasons why Deborah doesn't want to see him. We learn about some of these reasons in Deborah's therapy sessions.

Deborah tells Dr. Fried, for example, about how her father used to warned her that there were "sex maniacs and fiends, one to a tree, waiting for" her (14.32). She was a little kid, and he would shake her and tell her this, like, a lot. Don't get us wrong, stranger danger is important to teach, but there's such a thing as overkill.

When a man does expose himself to Deborah on the street, Jacob takes out his anger on Deborah instead of directing it at the flasher. Deborah wonders aloud what they guy would want with her, anyway, since she's already had a tumor removed from her female parts and has been "broken into and spoiled already" (14.32).

Jacob hits her for saying that. He seems obsessed with anyone taking a sexual interest in his child—and he even blames her for their interest. He's protective, yes, but definitely obsessive.

Empty Nest

With Deborah away at the hospital, Jacob does enjoy some moments of peace, though he misses her. When his younger daughter, Suzy, graduates from grammar school, he tries to make an effort to make the day about her, but thoughts of Deborah creep into his mind. He can't help himself. He whispers to Esther that they should go get Deborah from the mental hospital. His wife reminds him that the hospital is good for Deborah, and it wouldn't be good for her to get her out.

Jacob's response? "It may be good for me; me, once in a while!" (18.7). So, he's a little selfish when it comes to Deborah's treatments. But he also shows here that, yeah, he does love and miss his daughter. Too bad he has such a hard time showing it.

He doesn't like the stigma of mental illness or the label of mental hospital, either. He just doesn't want to believe his daughter belongs there.

When Deborah does finally come home for a visit near the end of the novel, he spends a lot of time comparing home to the hospital. He tries to convince Deborah, saying, "It's nice here isn't it? It's where you belong...you don't need to stay with all those…those screaming women" (25.21). Even though it's a bit of a backhanded compliment, you've got to give the man a few points for trying.

Jacob lets everyone in the family, including Deborah, know that he has serious doubts that the mental hospital is legit. It's almost like he thinks it's a blow to his identity to admit he has a mentally ill daughter; it makes him feel like a failure as a parent.

In his defense, though, when Deborah explains to him that the screaming he heard that first day was a patient who likes to do a Tarzan impression just to scare people, he does finally hug his daughter. He even eases up on his negative thinking and ditches the bad vibes.

Eureka—he is capable of change. Like daughter, like father, maybe?