A Critical Analysis: Betrayal and Forgiveness in Velma Wallis’s Two Old Women

Abstract

Drawing on research conducted in multiple fields including philosophy, psychology, literature and behavioral economics, this paper deals with the issue of betrayal and its messy resolution (as depicted in Sophocles' Antigone). In order to address significant questions pertaining to the subject, the present analysis will return to the specific instance of betrayal in Velma Wallis’s Two Old Women and its development over the course of the narrative. A summary of these questions and the responses offered will present the conclusion that the pain of betrayal need not be permanent.

Introduction

Human relationships begin and end with trust. Trust acts as the foundation to build upon, from friendships to romance to whole communities. Trust has a crucial function in evolving roles within the nuclear family, and in larger informal families it defines relational dynamics. From the very beginning of Velma Wallis’s Two Old Women the question of trust arises, along with several significant implications. It may take years for trust to be gained, and an instant for it to be lost. In Wallis’s narrative, the enduring trust of the Gwich’in for one another is an assumption the reader makes upon engaging the novel. Wallis’s sudden breach of it with Ch’idizyaak and Sa’ indicates how fragile even the strongest bonds of trust can be. The resolution of the story, however, shows that ultimately, even a severely trying loss of trust can be overcome and the relationships affected made right. This paper will address three areas: (1) How might betrayal impact your life years afterward it has occurred?; (2) Can a betrayal be corrected with no lasting damage? How or how not?; and (3) Does a betrayal have greater affect if it happens at an early age or later in life?

Question 1

Years after a betrayal, the pain from a bond being torn remains with the victim. The level of betrayal is commensurate with the intimacy of the relationship; the deeper the connection with the betrayer, the more painful and lasting the betrayal. The consequence of betrayal is a symptom of the diseased relationship between the betrayer and the betrayed: “an uneasy, uncomfortable, unstable state” (Fuller 2005, 1). The old adage goes “time heals all wounds,” and this is true in the context of a painful betrayal. With time, the fear and mistrust sown by a betrayal can be allayed, though the suffering will never be completely redressed without genuine forgiveness. Such a solution, however, remains a matter to be discussed in the second question.

James Joyce’s Dubliners provides a series of short stories that demonstrate the feelings characteristic of betrayal. The stories explore the realizations that individuals have, either of lasting trauma from the betrayal, or of the necessity of forgiving their betrayer. In “A Painful Case,” the mere fear of betrayal impacts Mr. Duffy for the remainder of his life. In “A Painful Case,” Joyce does not show the climactic betrayal that dramatically affected this character. All Joyce communicates about Mr. Duffy seems to be Duffy’s explanation that years ago he and Mrs. Sinico “agreed to break off their intercourse: every bond, he said, is a bond to sorrow” (Joyce 1990, 91). His fear of that inevitable sorrow defines his life in such a way that he lives a hermetic existence, “at a little distance from his body,” where he can stop himself from becoming attached and being hurt subsequently (Joyce 88). The self-deception he endeavors in convincing himself of the stupidity of Mrs. Sinico crumples as a real feeling penetrates the wall he constructs between himself and life, filling him with guilt. The reader worries that this feeling will only serve to further paralyze Mr. Duffy.

The example from Dubliners relates a harmful brush with betrayal. There remains the possibility of the productive resolution of betrayal through deep care, concern, and forgiveness. Though a betrayal may begin as malignant, harmful or grievous, the potential for healing the damaged relationship opens doors to compassionate and merciful treatment of the relationship in question as well as future relationships. The impact of a painful betrayal may very well be a more understanding or forgiving attitude, years later. According to Fuller, “even the most painful betrayal brings the possibility of growth and positive change as well as the dangers we are all so familiar with. The dangers—revenge, denial, cynicism, self-betrayal—are all possible outcomes of a betrayal but so is the opportunity which lies in forgiveness” (Fuller 2005, 2). The possibility of growing from a betrayal follows along the lines of another popular saying: “What does not break us makes us stronger.” This is certainly the case in Wallis’s Two Old Women.

The emotional and physiological consequences of betrayal trauma are documented in Evelyn Goldsmith’s extensive study. In Goldsmith’s work, the effects of abuse and betrayal are brought into distinct contrast in order to show that betrayal’s effects are often just as lasting and damaging. Those who report betrayal trauma report various symptoms, but “most importantly, the study demonstrates that ... the diverse effects of childhood maltreatment are better understood as a constellation of coping mechanisms rather than discrete responses” (Goldsmith 2004, 110). Betrayal is handled very differently however by the two old women in Wallis’s eponymous work. Ch’idizyaak and Sa’, once reunited with the band, are treated like heroes. They assume honorary positions in the tribe, and it appears that not only is all forgiven, but the tribe has grown from the experience of betraying two of their own (Wallis 2004, 135). The band learned to respect elderly members, and how to communicate amongst themselves more effectively.

Question 2

The impact of betrayal is not experienced entirely by the victim; the suffering and shame of the betrayer plays a part in the suffering of the betrayed. Years after the betrayal, there are two possibilities for the victim. The first is that the victim will continue to carry the painful weight of the betrayal without wanting to or knowing how to forgive the causer of his pain. Conversely, the victim may be ready to move on and forgive his betrayer leading to a sense of pity and vicarious grief felt toward the perpetrator. The tension inherent in the betrayer/betrayed dialectic becomes a source for deconstructionist analysis. Philosopher Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick explains her dense argument by drawing from the field of queer theory:

The analytic move [the argument] makes is to demonstrate that categories presented in a culture as symmetrical binary oppositions--heterosexual/homosexual, in this case--actually subsist in a more unsettled and dynamic tacit relation according to which, first, term B is not symmetrical with but subordinated to term A; but, second, the ontologically valorized term A actually depends for its meaning on the simultaneous subsumption and exclusion of term B; hence, third, the question of priority between the supposed central and the supposed marginal category of each dyad is irresolvably unstable, an instability caused by the fact that term B is constituted as at once internal and external to term A. (Sedgwick 1990, 9-10).

Sedgwick maintains that the heterosexual and homosexual develop an ontological basis for their identity through a “dynamic tacit relation,” a relation which exists between the victim of betrayal and the malevolent agent. If the forgiveness necessary to put the betrayal to rest “does not occur, and you carry the burden of the remembered and unresolved betrayal with you, you remain in relationship with your betrayer, even if you never see or speak to him or her again. You remain bound in the betrayal and that makes you less than fully free to form a new relationship” (Fuller 2005, 2). The impact of a betrayal years after it occurs depends on the willingness or readiness of the victim to forgive her betrayer. Sedgwick’s work emphasizes the perception of a central and marginal category of a dyad. In the case of a betrayal neither is central nor marginal as the relationship between the two concerned parties was initially based on mutual respect.

Evidence supporting the link transferring pain from the betrayer to the betrayed appears in the final chapter of Two Old Women. Ch’idzigyaak’s uncertainty about whether her daughter will visit (Wallis 2004, 130) reveals a persisting anxiety about her daughter’s guilt. This indicates that Ch’idzigyaak’s feelings from the earlier betrayal stem not only from a sense of having been betrayed, but also from the feelings she anticipates in her daughter. Long after the betrayal, she continues to experience the feelings of the betrayer, rather than bitterness or resentment.

The study of betrayal and forgiveness comes under close scrutiny in the work of Finkel, Rusbult, Kumashiro, and Hannon. Finkel et al. recognize the distinction between intra-personal and interpersonal forgiveness. In their analysis of betrayal-forgiveness, Finkel et al. draw on the previous body of literature, presenting respective definitions: (i) “a willingness to abandon one’s right to resentment, condemnation, and revenge toward an offender who acts unjustly, fostering the undeserved qualities of compassion, generosity, and even love toward him/her;” and (ii) “the set of motivational changes whereby one becomes decreasingly motivated to retaliate against an offending partner, decreasingly motivated to maintain estrangement, and increasingly motivated by conciliation and goodwill toward the offender, despite the offender’s hurtful actions;” and (iii) (Finkel et al.’s definition) “the victim’s resumption of pre-betrayal behavioral tendencies” (Finkel et al. 2002, 1958). The active hypothesis in the study conducted by Finkel et al. is that one strong cause of pro-relationship motivation, commitment, is likely to prompt forgiveness. In short, the greater the commitment to the relationship, the more likely concerned parties are to forgive each other in the case of a betrayal.

Whether forgiveness occurs interpersonally or intrapersonally matters little in the process of healing from betrayal, so long as the former is genuine. The interpersonal form of forgiveness requires authentic change in the victim’s feelings toward the betrayer. In the interest of resuming a relationship (albeit with a power imbalance), an individual may simulate the actions previously considered typical by their partner. What complicates the system further is that betrayal does not necessarily occur in two-person relationships. In Two Old Women, the betrayal occurs between a tribe—a quasi-family—and two of its members.

Intrapersonal forgiveness seems much more therapeutic in the resolution of the aftermath of a betrayal. The form of interaction that characterizes interpersonal forgiveness will arise in the case of an intrapersonal change. There are many scenarios in which forgiveness might occur. The first is that the betrayer pleads to be forgiven. In Fuller’s words, “Deep forgiveness requires that the betrayer carry his or her own sin. Which means feeling how deeply we have hurt the one(s) we care about and also feeling our own shame and sorrow at having done what we did” (Fuller 2005, 2). If the contrition is authentic, and the victim is ready to forgive the betrayal, healing can occur as a result.

The second possibility is that intrapersonal forgiveness prompts the victim to approach the betrayer. This forgiveness may be actualized by a feeling of empathy directed toward a guilty or shameful betrayer. The victim’s readiness to forgive may be brought on by a wish to end his or her betrayer’s suffering. Faith may also play a part in the forgiveness of the causer of one’s pain.

In the case of Ch’idizyaak and Sa’, there is a strong yearning to be reunited with their family as well as their larger family, the group. There is also the distinct possibility that the experience and wisdom of the women, in life and the Alaskan wilderness, prepare them for forgiveness.

Pairing the definition of forgiveness is the definition of compassion, and in concert these human phenomena are capable of defeating the effects of betrayal. A definition of compassion that accommodates self-compassion requires multiple criteria rather than a single phrase. Kristin Neff, psychology researcher at the University of Texas (Austin) argues that there is no significant difference between compassion and self-compassion. In fact, she observes that self-compassion

is not distinguished from the more general definition of “compassion.” Compassion involves being open to and moved by the suffering of others, so that one desires to ease their suffering. It also involves offering others patience, kindness and non-judgmental understanding, recognizing that all humans are imperfect and make mistakes. Similarly, self-compassion involves being open to and moved by one’s suffering, experiencing feelings of caring and kindness toward oneself, taking an understanding, nonjudgmental attitude toward one’s inadequacies and failures, and recognizing that one’s own experience is part of the common human experience. (Neff 2003, p. 224).

The aftermath of betrayal requires commitment to an acceptance of the pain that ensues from a betrayal, a refusal to acknowledge it, or a transformation resulting in either an intrapersonal or interpersonal change. Assuming that this transformation is what the victim seeks, an effective strategy in achieving it is self-compassion and believing in one's self.

Self-compassion addresses the effects of betrayal, whether they be humiliation or hatred, by letting in the pain and treating oneself with care rather than judgment. Neff’s components of self-compassion are self-kindness (rather than self-judgment), common humanity over isolation, and mindfulness as opposed to over-identification (Neff 2003, 224). Self-kindness refers to the practice of relating to oneself with care and understanding rather than being harshly critical in the face of adversity, failure, or suffering. Recognizing shared humanity is necessary to connect one’s flawed condition to a common humanity in order to put personal shortcomings in greater perspective (Neff 2003, 224). The final component of self-compassion is mindfulness: awareness of one’s present experience that does not allow the individual to neglect nor be carried away with one’s own thoughts. This component, mindfulness rather than over-identification or neglect, is the most pertinent in the case of a betrayal. It requires that the feelings be dealt with, not shoved aside or dwelled on.

This strategy, self-compassion, if not a singularly valid response to betrayal, at the very least sets a process in motion to rectify the negative consequences of betrayal. One of the factors in addressing betrayal is a capacity for forgiveness, generated through self-compassion, in other words, the learned and repeated forgiveness of oneself. Ultimately, however, there needs to be some form of interactive forgiveness between the causer of the suffering and the sufferer.

Question 3

As discussed in Question 2, the wisdom of advanced years prepare Ch’idizyaak and Sa’ to forgive their band’s betrayal. Despite being a single instance, and fictitious, Two Old Women is a story that points to the deeper truth. Goldsmith’s findings support the same theory; the younger the individual, the more damaging the effects of betrayal.

Betrayal of course comes in many forms. Since a betrayal is simply a breach of trust, the conditions for betrayal change with age, along with the likeliness of the betrayal being forgiven afterward. The younger a person is, the broader the spectrum of actions that qualify as a breach of trust. Any form of abuse or behavior likely to damage the psyche of a child is to be considered a subset of the larger category of betrayal. An individual’s attitude and affect are constituted by the sum total of said individual’s experiences. The younger an individual is, the fewer his cache of experiential memories, the greater the effect of a debilitating event (such as a betrayal). Joyce provides two instances in which such an event occurs: the first is formative for the young boy, while the second, occurring to a woman later in life, fits into the template of her existence.

These examples appear in Dubliners, in “Araby” and “Clay,” highlighting the difference between a life-changing moment that occurs in one’s childhood and one that occurs in adulthood. The beginning of “Araby” describes the main character as a lustful boy and raises the question of love between him and the neighbor whom he pines for, Mangan’s sister. The story becomes about his childishness, however, when it follows him to Araby. It becomes apparent there, to the character as well as the reader, that any love he felt for Mangan’s sister was vain and puerile and he sees himself as a “creature driven and derided by vanity,” and the climax of the story occurs when he exclaims “and my eyes burned with anguish and anger” (Joyce 1990, 24). More than in other stories, the character whom “Araby” shows undergoing a realization will almost certainly change and grow from his moment of understanding. This makes sense, as the story appears in the first section of the book, childhood life, where epiphanies have the most potential to result in some form of character development.

Conversely, “Clay” portrays a character with very little chance of changing herself or the situation she finds herself in. Joyce writes in free indirect discourse for the greater part of this story, and in doing so removes to some extent the capacity to act which the characters whose lives he follows have. Several lines take freedom away from Maria, as when “Joe made Maria take a glass of wine,” or when she is asked to sing and so “had to get up and stand beside the piano” (Joyce 1990, 86). The protagonist of Araby, when he realizes he has been immature, feels pain, anger, and humiliation. Realizing this at an early age suggests the possibility that he might change, as opposed to the protagonist of Clay, who realizes change to be impossible given the position in which she finds herself at her stage in life.

In Betrayal and Other Acts of Subversion however, Leslie Bow suggests that certain types of betrayal are only possible after formation of identity has transpired to some degree. This is due to the fact that membership in certain groups requires the development of loyalty and trust. Bow suggests

that the language of betrayal signals the artifice of naturalized racial, ethnic, or national belonging; the charge does not simply contest the authenticity of one's identity or commitment whether in regard to alliances characterized by biological inevitability or those politically chosen, but instead becomes a potent rhetorical figuration deployed to signal how affiliations are formed and then consolidated. (Bow 2001, 10).

Betrayal, according to Bow, requires affiliation. For example, Ch’idizyaak and Sa’ are betrayed by the Gwich’in people, but the betrayal is only possible because they themselves are Gwich’in.

Another example appears in “Betrayal of Trust in Organization. Elangovan and Shapiro note the potential to be betrayed by an organization. They indicate that “the very conditions that necessitate or are conducive for the emergence of trust also allow for the abuse of trust [in the context of a business or organization]” (Elangovan and Shapiro 1998, 547). In a similar study examining risk, trust, and betrayal Bohnet and Zeckhauser (2004) observe that there are costs to betrayal for individuals and organizations alike. Bohnet et al. explore why individuals take the risk of trusting one another. The greater the loyalty, commitment, or investment, the greater the risk and potential cost of a betrayal. In the case of organizations and certain national or cultural affiliations, betrayal may become more damaging with age.

Betrayal requires trust. In some cases, as in youth with their parents, trust ought to be implicit. On the other hand, in non-familial relationships, trust is earned, forged, built. Time must pass before an individual can place his trust in another, and only once that trust is established and relied upon will its breach be destructive. Similarly, loyalty must be demonstrated and confirmed by a wide variety of organizations and institutions, political or cultural.

There can be no unequivocal conclusion regarding whether betrayal has a greater effect at an early age or later in life. Much of the present discussion has been elaborated with regard to the sort of relationship entered upon by two committed and caring adults. However, Two Old Women presents a different case: one of cultural affiliation and belonging. Betrayal changes on a case by case basis, but the psychology research demonstrates that the sort of betrayal that would threaten a child is often very difficult to recover from. A close and deeply intimate connection, perceived loyalty, any and all trust is bound to hurt the parties involved when it is broken—but the very commitment necessary for such trust to develop is the basis for reconciliation post-betrayal.

Summary

The question of whether one can outgrow the experience of betrayal must be treated with care and nuance. Salient factors include the form of betrayal, the age of the victim, and the nature of the relationship between betrayer and betrayed. Healing the suffering caused by a betrayal can be accomplished only if the conditions surrounding the betrayal are not wholly condemnatory. In a select few cases, the betrayal will be lasting, but even in these there is a hope for the individual to, in time, find peace. Fortunately, the vast majority of betrayal experiences are not of this kind. Most breaches of trust can be remedied by setting a course bearing toward the love and concern that the relationship was founded upon. Many more can be healed through self-compassion, love directed toward the injured party, and/or faith. As in Two Old Women, resolution of a betrayal can even strengthen relationships. A relationship may endure storms, rains, and floods; so long as forgiveness and understanding are dutifully exercised, it will all prove to be nothing but more water under the bridge.

References

Bohnet, I., & Zeckhauser, R. (2004). Trust, risk and betrayal. Journal of Economic Behavior & Organization, 55, 467-484.

Bow, L. (2001). Betrayal and other acts of subversion feminism, sexual politics, Asian American women's literature. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press.

Elangovan, A. R., & Shapiro, D. L. (1998). Betrayal of Trust in Organizations. The Academy of Management Review, 23, 547-566.

Finkel, E. J., Rusbult, C. E., Kumashiro, M., & Hannon, P. A. (2002). Dealing With Betrayal in Close Relationships: Does Commitment Promote Forgiveness?. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 82, 956-974.

Fuller, C. L. (n.d.). Moving Beyond I'm Sorry: Forgiveness and Recovering from Betrayal. Jung at Heart. Retrieved April 1, 2014, from http://www.jung-at-heart.com/jung_at_heart/articles/download_2.pdf

Goldsmith, R. E. (n.d.). Psychology Dissertation. University of Oregon. Retrieved April 1, 2014, from http://pages.uoregon.edu/dynamic/jjf/theses/goldsmith04.pdf

Joyce, J. (1990). Dubliners. New York: Bantam.

Neff, K. D. (2003). The Development and Validation of a Scale to Measure Self-Compassion. Self and Identity, 2, 223-250.

Sedgwick, E. K. (1990). Epistemology of the closet. Berkeley: University of California Press.

Wallis, V. (2004). Two old women: an Alaskan legend of betrayal, courage and survival (1. Perennial ed.). New York, NY: Perennial.