M.C.'s Pole

M.C.'s Manhood

Think of M.C.'s pole as an extension of M.C.'s body. And no, you're not off-base if your mind happens to think of that part of M.C.'s body (you know the one we're talking about), though the pole can be understood most accurately as a symbol of M.C.'s entire physical self. Whether admiring his pole because of its size or fondly recalling winning it as a prize from his father for swimming across the Ohio River, the pole serves as a sort of extension of M.C.'s body, both enabling him to survey his mountain and celebrating his physical prowess.

Here are just a few ways he describes his pole:

It was always his shining beacon. (1.183)

His prize was a pole. It was forty feet of glistening cold steel, the best kind of ride. (1.188)

Looks just fine from here, M.C. thought. He stood there studying his pole, admiring its black and blue tint in the sun. It was the one thing that could make him feel peaceful inside every time he saw it. (1.191)

M.C. clearly loves the pole, right? And importantly, it's all his. With very few material belongings, the pole belongs exclusively to M.C. He's the only one who can climb it, the only one who won it—it offers him peace and guidance, almost like a second home, a home which is only big enough for M.C…. kind of like a body.

The Lookout

The pole also lets M.C. sit at the top of his world, and because of this, it represents the power of sight. Check this out:

Forty feet up, he was truly higher than everything on the outcropping. Higher than the house and higher than the trees. Straight out from Sarah's Mountain, he could see everything in a spectacular view. He occasionally saw people clearly walking the hill paths nine miles away. Thinking they were absolutely alone, they had no inkling his eyes were upon them. (2.6)

The pole may come from a feat of physical strength, but once M.C. has it, it gives him the power of sight. Not only that, but it's a voyeuristic sort of sight—he can see what people are doing without them knowing, which is a rather powerful position to occupy. For instance, the pole enables M.C. to spot Lurhetta in the woods. He later uses the knowledge of her whereabouts to sneak up on her (be sure to read up on the knife as a symbol for a bit about how well this goes).

The pole isn't just for sneak attacks on girls, though, and it also allows M.C. to communicate to his family. He can yodel to the kids to come home or spot his parents walking home from work. In other words, M.C. can use the pole as a power for good if he wants to.

"Marker of All of the Dead"

What really makes the pole significant to M.C. though is when Banina tells him that his pole "is the marker for all of the dead" (5.199). Oh good? Apparently, the pile of dirt and rubbish propping the pole up is the burial site for M.C.'s ancestors. Yep. M.C.'s been sitting on top of the dead this whole time. But when we remember that the pole is a symbol for M.C.'s body, there's something kind of cool about this: We can see that he is rooted in the past, growing up and out of the history of those who came before him in his family.

What's the Point?

Okay, so the pole gives M.C. a lookout point and it's a "monument" (5.210) to the dead, but does he really need the pole? Arguably, what the pole really accomplishes is it isolates M.C. from everyone. As he notes, when he's up on the pole, he's "all alone" (2.7).

By the end of the novel, though, M.C.'s found that he doesn't need the pole nearly as much as he needs the dirt-and-trash pile around his pole. It's all that mound of dirt supporting his pole that M.C. uses to build the wall… which, of course, means that the pole will eventually fall down. M.C. is willing to sacrifice himself, then, for the good of his family, and because of this, here we see the pole representing M.C.'s growth. Grow, M.C., grow.