“Long ago, I girded myself against the woods with an armor of fur, with a trap chained to my skin…when I returned to the house I had to search again for some other method to clothe myself, some other way to make my intentions known” (275).
I found this quote interesting in light of our other conversations about transformation. While this one in particular is far from being the most drastic transformation we’ve seen, it is ultimately the one that has the most impact in being able to restore the wife’s memories of the love she had found with the narrator. In a way, this was not so much a transformation as a return to the roots from which their relationship had bloomed, an act that did not require the narrator to take on a new form so much as it did a prior mindset, yet the clothing he wears is essential to his wife’s recognition of him as “husband” rather than “stranger”. This made me return to the idea of bones having memories, and memories bones: without context, the wedding suit is just a wedding suit, hollow and without sentiment. To place the narrator within them, however, is to fortify the symbolic “bones” of their relationship so that its pieces can come together again, giving it a chance of being rebuilt.