In Fitzgerald’s short story, Bernice Bobs Her Hair, focuses on a pretty but boring Bernice as she stays with her cousin Marjorie over the summer. During these weeks, Marjorie is not subtle about her feelings towards Bernice: she complains about her slowly declining social status, and selfishly decides to teach Bernice about proper social graces. Marjorie’s dialogue in this short story leaves the story without need for omniscient narration; she says everything she feels towards Bernice in an unfiltered, gossipy manner.
At one point, Marjorie states: “Her whole early life is occupied in whining criticisms of girls like me who really do have a good time”, referring to Bernice and her jealousies of Marjorie and her companions. In a way, Marjorie’s own pride overrides Bernice’s pride: she doesn’t see social life as subjective, only as black and white, acceptable and unacceptable. Bernice isn’t oblivious to her unpopularity, however. In one section of the story, her and Marjorie have a confrontation.
“‘But I'm in the way, I see. I'm a drag on you. Your friends don't like me.’ She paused, and then remembered another one of her grievances. ‘Of course I was furious last week when you tried to hint to me that that dress was unbecoming. Don't you think I know how to dress myself?’
‘No,’ murmured Marjorie less than half-aloud.”
In this conversation, Marjorie doesn’t try and console Bernice about her loneliness, or even try and shelter her from the truth about her unbecoming dress. Her distaste towards Bernice can be dissected simply from that short sentence alone.
When Marjorie’s mother tries to convince Marjorie to take Bernice under her wing, Marjorie frets about her personality; she’s very clear in her thinking that beauty is not all it takes to be a prize on the dance floor: "I've never heard her say anything to a boy except that it's hot or the floor's crowded or that she's going to school in New York next year. Sometimes she asks them what kind of car they have and tells them the kind she has. Thrilling!" I believe that Marjorie needs no explanation outside of her dialogue: throughout Fitzgerald’s whole story, she’s clear, concise, and unapologetically honest about her feelings of Bernice.
At one point, Marjorie states: “Her whole early life is occupied in whining criticisms of girls like me who really do have a good time”, referring to Bernice and her jealousies of Marjorie and her companions. In a way, Marjorie’s own pride overrides Bernice’s pride: she doesn’t see social life as subjective, only as black and white, acceptable and unacceptable. Bernice isn’t oblivious to her unpopularity, however. In one section of the story, her and Marjorie have a confrontation.
“‘But I'm in the way, I see. I'm a drag on you. Your friends don't like me.’ She paused, and then remembered another one of her grievances. ‘Of course I was furious last week when you tried to hint to me that that dress was unbecoming. Don't you think I know how to dress myself?’
‘No,’ murmured Marjorie less than half-aloud.”
In this conversation, Marjorie doesn’t try and console Bernice about her loneliness, or even try and shelter her from the truth about her unbecoming dress. Her distaste towards Bernice can be dissected simply from that short sentence alone.
When Marjorie’s mother tries to convince Marjorie to take Bernice under her wing, Marjorie frets about her personality; she’s very clear in her thinking that beauty is not all it takes to be a prize on the dance floor: "I've never heard her say anything to a boy except that it's hot or the floor's crowded or that she's going to school in New York next year. Sometimes she asks them what kind of car they have and tells them the kind she has. Thrilling!" I believe that Marjorie needs no explanation outside of her dialogue: throughout Fitzgerald’s whole story, she’s clear, concise, and unapologetically honest about her feelings of Bernice.
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