Knives

The Knife as Weapon

Knives in this book generally signal exactly what you might expect: protection and violence (if not death). Take a look at the first encounter between M.C. and Lurhetta and how they use their knives to defend and attack:

At once [M.C.] felt the imprint of a heavy, unsheathed blade between them. But his mind didn't dwell on it, not even in surprise. He jerked the knife away toward her back, forcing her to move off a little, so he could slide the belt around to which it was attached. He pressed her arm down on the knife now at her side. If she struggled, she'd risk being sliced […]

He used [his knife], expertly. He could make a bleeding animal slash with it. But he stopped himself in time. She was no deer. Instead he thrust delicately through her shirt and made a clean check mark into her skin. A cut, but not deep. Just enough to draw blood and hurt. (5.136, 5.147)

Clearly, knives can hurt—duh—but why does M.C. use the knife at all? Right before this moment, Lurhetta kicks him enough to hurt him, but she is also clearly sorry about it. She not only apologizes to him; she checks that he's okay (5.129-132). So M.C. is the one to instigate the whole knife-business. Lurhetta isn't someone who's going to endanger him further, yet he decides to attack her physically and use his knife on her. And while M.C.'s far from perfect, he's definitely not a terrible person. So what gives?

The Macho-Man's Knife

Well… we hate to get into this because we know it can sound silly, but another way to think of the knife—at least with M.C.—is as an extension of M.C.'s penis. Go on and get your giggles and cackles out now.

Why are we willing to stick our necks out on this interpretation? Because of M.C.'s motive for the attack. He doesn't really want to hurt Lurhetta exactly—he wants to show her how much he desires her. In fact, right before he nicks her with his knife, he says "Hi" and then:

[i]mpulsively, he kisse[s] her lightly on the lips, the way he might have kissed a child good-by. At once he know[s] he shouldn't have. She hadn't felt like a child. (5.140)

His desire is just kind of bursting forth—note the word impulsively—and the knife is part of this. M.C. isn't in control of his desire; instead it's more like he's governed by it. Remember: He doesn’t know Lurhetta at all at this point, so M.C. really springs this kiss on her. And check this out:

"Hey," he said, now grinning with the triumph of catching her. Yet his mind remained sharp, wary, a hunter's mind. (5.142)

If the scene feels kind of rape-y, then, um, that's because it is. And this is something M.C.'s done before, too, with Mary Willis. He also caught her on a path in the woods, grabbed her, and tried to kiss her (1.153-155). Point is, M.C. has it in him to be aggressively sexual with women. And the knife makes this crystal clear. While we can recognize this on one hand as stemming from feelings he doesn't understand and is sort of overcome by, that he kind of hunts women remains undeniable. Women—like rabbits (who are also a symbol)—are part of M.C.'s hunger.

It's a Knife… No Wait, It's a Shovel

In case this whole knife business has you feeling pretty wary of our main man, worry not: The knife changes meaning as the story moves along. Though Lurhetta may leave M.C.'s life just as quickly as she enters it, when she does, she leaves him her knife. And when she does, a whole lot of change ensues.

When M.C. gets the knife, it speaks to him "in the voice of Lurhetta" and asks him to "Follow me" (14.84). Immediately, given how non-violent Lurhetta is, the meaning of the knife begins to change. It's no longer about M.C.'s violence against her, but now an invitation to non-violence. Cool, right? But this is just the beginning. Check it out:

Trancelike, he stumbled over to Sarah's Mountain where it rose behind the house, as if he meant to walk right through it. But he stopped and kneeled suddenly, with both hands clamped tightly around the knife handle, plunging the blade into the soil.

Shaking, raging with ever more forceful jabs, he stabbed the earth. Clumps of rock and earth loosened and feel around M.C.'s knees. They felt cool, smelled faintly rancid. He stared at the clumps, the knife poised in front of him. For a long moment, he waited; a perfect idea formed in his mind. (14.119-120)

Lurhetta's knife leads M.C. to use the tool not to kill, but to dig and build a wall to protect his family's house from the spoil-heap. The knife is still "fit for a hunter" (14.77), but it has other uses too—uses that not only don't involve the destruction of life, but involve saving it.