Thomas Simmons’ essay “Motorcycle Talk” proved to be much more relatable than I had first imagined. While Simmons’ piece obviously spends a lot of time detailing his father’s straightforward, masculine joy of tinkering with a motorcycle in auto jargon, it also portrays a more vulnerable side to his father. From the very beginning of the essay, where Simmons describes his father as “magnificent,” we get the sense that his Dad is a more complex man than we may think at first. One does not usually use the word “magnificent” in order to convey a sense of toughness; Simmons’ diction choice reveals that his Dad is not completely defined by the tough, manly hobby that he pursues. This image of a genuine, sensitive mechanic contrasts sharply with the overtly masculine, inaccessible persona featured in Harry Crews’ piece “The Car.”
In this piece, I found another interesting connection to Crews’ essay. In paragraph 10, Simmons writes, “I did not know this then, not exactly. But I knew, when we both hovered over the Benelli’s cylinder head or gearbox, adjusting a cam or replacing a gasket, that he would not have worked on this machine for himself alone.” At this point in the essay, Simmons is reflecting on a very specific moment of his past with a fresh, more mature and intelligent perspective. He realizes the significance of a moment that seemed important at the time, but only now, years later, is he able to grasp just how truly important it was. Crews toys with this concept as well, saying “the moment was brief and I understand it better now than I did then, but I did realize, if imperfectly, that something was dreadfully wrong…” (pg. 404, paragraph 15). This idea of imperfect realization in the moment followed by later clarity is something that I would like to incorporate in future assignments.
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