Plum Bun: A Novel Without a Moral

Angela and Roger engage in three months of negotiation and conflict over his proposal. Roger argues that the notion of “free love” should appeal to her, with her desire for freedom and independence, and implores her to trust him; he won’t abandon her, no matter what happens. Angela resists, but this resistance slowly erodes. She thinks, “[t]he world was made to take pleasure in; one gained nothing by exercising simple virtue” (193).

Angela knows of a rival for Roger’s affections—Carlotta Parks, one of his childhood friends. Paulette reveals that Roger’s father would like nothing more than for Roger and Carlotta to be married, though Roger doesn’t appreciate Carlotta because she too openly wants the relationship. He likes women who play hard to get.

Based on this information, Angela continues to refuse Roger, assuming that he will eventually be so overcome with desire and love that he will propose marriage. Soon, though, because she thinks that he might be her only chance at security, she eventually gives in and they consummate their relationship. Afterwards, “she felt that she was Roger’s totally” (203), and determines to focus all of her energy on him. She reasons that “if this were free love the freedom was the quality to be stressed rather than the emotion” (204). She imagines the disapproval she would receive from people back home.

Angela feels secure in her decision to be with Roger, though the fact that Roger never contemplates any further commitment to her unsettles her. She returns to her art—her teacher praises her portraits—and befriends the upstairs neighbor, Rachel Salting. Roger is frequently away on business, so Rachel helps alleviate Angela’s loneliness. Virginia too has a full life as a certified teacher with many illustrious friends in Harlem.

Rachel is Jewish—“a fresh breeze, a curious mixture of Jewish conservatism and modernity” (211). Rachel speaks frequently about her impending marriage and her willingness to sacrifice everything for it, which makes an impression on Angela.

Martha Burden invites Angela and Roger to a lecture by a Black man named Van Mier, whose ideas are considered progressive, even radical. Essentially, Van Mier’s message is that, in order to achieve greater success as a race, Blacks must help one another by lifting each other up, “the acquisition not so much of a racial love as a racial pride” (218). The idea of taking pride in one’s racial origin feels truly revolutionary to Angela. Roger’s takeaway is that Van Mier must have more white blood than Black in him; this explains his rhetorical abilities.

Angela begins to lose interest in Roger, so frequent are his absences and so obvious the lack of any stable future between them. A dawning sense of shame envelops her, as she realizes that she truly doesn’t love him, that the relationship is merely one of convenience. Still, she feels lonely much of the time and, even though she occasionally thinks of Anthony, she feels she cannot reach out to him. So, she throws herself back into her commitment to Roger, overcompensating for her previous distance.

This has the unintended effect of alienating him, and, in a destructive cycle, as Roger becomes less and less available to her, Angela she behaves more and more possessively. When she calls him after a long absence, he scolds her: A man can call whenever he likes, but such behavior is unacceptable in a woman. Roger snubs Angela at one of Martha’s parties, spending time with Carlotta instead, and then breaks off the relationship in a casually pitiless manner: “You knew perfectly well what you were letting yourself in for” (231). Angela is surprised not by the break-up but by the cruelty with which it is done.

Now that Roger is gone, Angela worries about money and security. Though she is anxious and lonely, she accepts with satisfaction the end of an entanglement that was devoid of love. Happy that she has taken nothing of material value from Roger, she is ready to move on.

She embarks upon a new career, sketching designs for a fashion magazine. At one point, she would have been enthusiastic about this new adventure, but the passage of time and the mark of experience have tempered her youthful fervor: “The radiance which once had so bathed every moment of her existence was fading gently, inexorably into the ‘light of common day’” (236).