Family ties add striking dimensions to even the most tortuous and banal novels. The literary options are truly innumerable; family ties can represent both complexity and simplicity, and bring characters both adversity and reassurance. The complex interaction between mother and son has particularly saturated the author's mind since the dawn of literature. In A Confederacy of Dunces, author John Kennedy Toole uses the sacred union between mother and son in an unprecedented way. In particular, the attitudes and activities of Irene Reilly and her son Ignatius determine the tone of the novel and direct the course of events. Although Irene and Ignatius Reilly are both inherently insecure and unassertive, they attempt to remedy these debilitating traits in contrasting ways. Irene improves, while Ignace continues the negativity; Irene pursues high fashion, socialization and domination, while her son pursues pomposity, nastiness and gluttony. The psyches of the mother-son clan shed their default parallels and conclude the novel amid tense polarization. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on “Why Violent Video Games Should Not Be Banned”? Get an original essay At the heart of her complex character, Irene Reilly is defined by pure sweetness. She is idle, unmotivated and discouraged. Living with her son, who preys on the weak, has only deepened Irene's despair. She listens to Ignatius' belittling criticism, but responds with silent modesty. Having no idea of ​​proper postnatal care for children, Irene often attempts to counter her son's seemingly endless arsenal of slights with quips: Ignatius, I'm going to have to stop by the estate tomorrow. We won't have to deal with these loan sharks, Mother. Ignatius speaks Ignatius, honey, they can put me in jail. Ho hum. If you want to stage one of your hysterical scenes, I'll have to go back to the living room. In fact, I think I will. (Toole 42) Choosing humiliation over dignity, Irene Reilly desperately tries to soothe her son - probably out of fear that he will descend into an irrational rage and physically harm her. Furthermore, Irene releases her naturally gargantuan amount of stress through moaning rather than discipline and preventive measures: "What am I going to do with a boy like that?... He doesn't care about his poor mother. Sometimes I think Ignatius would. I wouldn't mind if they threw me in jail. He's got a heart of ice, that boy." (Toole 42). Irene's rhetoric embodies an attitude of inaction. Even a cursory examination of the novel's opening chapters will provide a revealing insight into its default sadness and self-destructive acceptance of the status quo. Irene, recognizing her pitifully helpless personality, spends the entire novel recovering from such melancholy. Ignatius Reilly's natural disposition is one of fervent insecurity. His façade of control and abuse deteriorates outside the confines of his mother's home. When surrounded by strangers, his true behavior is instantly revealed; he becomes almost comically worried, doubtful and eager to please. He is so helpless and unsure of his social abilities that he allows complete strangers to dictate his every action. When Ignatius finds himself in a dance hall crowded with proletarians, his desire to appease the workers and protect himself – all at the expense of his dignity – is unmistakable. Ignatius recognizes his mistakes and defies his own desires in an anxious attempt to fit in perfectly: I... turned off the switch that controlled the music. This action on my partprovoked a rather loud and crude roar of protest from the collective workers... So I turned the music back on, smiling broadly and waving amiably in an attempt to acknowledge my lack of judgment and win the workers a victory. trust. (Toole 21) If Ignatius' attitude of supremacy applied to foreign environments, he would refuse to honor the wishes of his colleagues. Ignatius is clearly aware that he is incapable of intimidation and is afraid of the consequences of his behavior. So instead of displaying impatience and high-volume vocal antics, he only displays a consortium of friendly gestures and a synthetic smile. Ignatius, who is visibly afraid of revealing his true nature and becoming the target of ridicule, tirelessly tries to conform to blue-collar culture when under pressure: "I knew I had regained my footing with them when several started pointing at me and laughing. . I laughed back to demonstrate that I too shared their good humor" (Toole 21). Ignace's inherent insecurity is embodied by his inability to defend himself and his fierce desire to "further pacify the workers" (Toole 21). ).He adopts a stance of weakness and acquiescence when in public, and therefore feels compelled to amplify his grievances when isolated in his mother's home. To assuage his inherent insecurities, Irene Reilly attempts to. take control of her destiny and her image; she attempts to improve herself. Irene begins this project with a bold effort to make herself more attractive. She abandons her typically banal (and stereotypically maternal) outfits in favor of clothes that she wears. judging moderns and chics Simultaneously exercising desperation and style, Irene clumsily attaches an item of botanical beauty to her mismatched outfit: "...she added a pop of color by pinning a wilted poinsettia to the lapel of her top" (Toole 116). ). In addition, she increasingly delves into the field of makeup and various facial stimulants: “Her mother's (Ignatius) brown hair was tousled high on her forehead; his cheekbones were flushed with red that had spread nervously to his eyeballs. of powder had whitened Mrs. Reilly’s face” (Toole 16). Although many feel that her new awareness of superficiality has turned her into an overdressed fashion disaster, Irene is still proud of her new chic. Irene's attempted transformation from functional to fabulous is a blatant attempt to legitimize her presence and increase her confidence. She recognizes that her lack of authority is a product of her lack of self-confidence and her dormant mind. She recognizes that to regain one's personal prestige and presence in society, one must reverse this lack of confidence. She recognizes that first impressions often shape long-term relationships and so wisely decides to boost morale via superficial improvement. To continue her recovery from the doldrums of impotent depression, Irene Reilly launches an unwavering attempt to liven up her social life. Irene, a widow dependent on her violent son, has always been a weak and solitary entity. Particularly because she suffers from difficulties at home, Irene must balance her family life with her social activities. The obvious antidote to his grief is an infusion of joy, laughter and companionship. Aware of this, Irene strives to create a closer connection with her acquaintances, focusing on Santa Battaglia; achieving this goal requires appropriate dress, frequent phone conversations, and bowling outings. Ignatius quickly notices the influx of his mother's companions and responds with his typically cynical and mocking rhetoric: My mother is currently associatingto undesirables who try to turn her into some kind of athlete, depraved specimens of humanity who regularly make their way. to oblivion. Sometimes I find it rather painful to pursue my thriving business career, suffering as I do from these distractions at home. (Toole 101) Ignatius, perhaps jealous of his mother's increasing socialization, constantly mocks his mother's social efforts, but to no avail. Irene decidedly increases her public visibility as the novel progresses. Even though her attitude remains relatively morbid, Irene's efforts to infuse camaraderie into her meanderings produce tangible results. Irene changes her appearance, daily schedule and attitude towards strangers. More importantly, Irene confides more and more in those she knows, particularly regarding Ignace's ruthless behavior. Irene's social enthusiasm - which contrasts with Ignace's defeatism - saves her from the edge of an irreversible hermitage. To directly combat her lack of life, Irene adopts an aggressive attitude towards her son, Ignatius. Irene gradually replaces her prototypical acquiescence with a new voice of dominance, resilience, and independence. Irene increasingly objects to Ignatius's demoralization and becomes increasingly willing to criticize her son's generally reprehensible actions. At the conclusion of the novel, Irene does the unthinkable; she assumes full control of her son's future and decides to send him to the humble realities of institutional incarceration: "I have finally made my decision. The time has come. He is my own child, but we need to get him treated for his own good.” ...We must have him declared temporarily insane” (Toole 381). Irene's decision to contact the Charity Hospital marks the culmination of her gradual empowerment. She is no longer a pawn of Ignace and no longer gives in to all his demands. Irene manages to overturn the status quo that her insecurity has favored; she began the novel as a dominated entity and concludes the novel as the primary dominant. She succeeded in relegating the outgoing tyrant to a position of subordination. Just like his mother, Ignatius is aware of his lack of confidence and tries to repress it; unlike his mother, Ignace implements this policy in a patently repugnant manner. To hide his insecurity, Ignatius spews arrogance at every turn. He stands above all others, believing himself to be more sophisticated than the working masses and more authentic than the aristocratic classes. Believing that he is too formidable a man to participate in the culture of dunces, Ignatius vehemently refuses to wear the headgear of the Frankfurt distributors: "I will not wear this paper cap!...Put the fork in my vital organs, if you I will not wear this cap. Death before dishonor and illness” (Toole 158). Ignatius attempts to establish a respectable societal presence by constantly making reference to his unrivaled intelligence and physical abilities. During a conversation with his ex-girlfriend Myrna, Ignatius boasts that his amalgamation of abilities overwhelms others in his presence: "As the magnificence and originality of my worldview became explicit during the conversation, the minx Minkoff began to attack me on all levels...I fascinated and disturbed her at the same time; in short, I was too much for her” (Toole 124). that in reality it is completely primitive His pompous rhetoric is a method of self-manipulation escapism; he attempts to cover up his inherent insecurity by convincing himself that he is entitled, admired, and has an "inner life." rich” (Fletcher tries to.