“Behind the newspaper Julian was withdrawing into the inner compartment of his mind where he spent most of his time. This was a kind of mental bubble in which he established himself when he could not bear to be a part of what was going on around him. From it he could see out and judge but in it he was safe from any kind of penetration from without. It was the only place where he felt free of the general idiocy of his fellows. His mother had never entered it but from it he could see her with absolute clarity.”
~ Everything that Rises Must Converge by Flannery O’Connor
Etchings by Benny Andrews
🎧 Listen to Audio Here
Historical and Literary Context
Everything That Rises Must Converge was one of the last stories Flannery O’Connor completed before her death. Written during the height of the Civil Rights Movement, it was first published in New World Writing in 1961 and later included in the posthumous collection of the same name in 1965.
The title comes from the work of French philosopher Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, from his concept of the “Omega Point” in The Phenomenon of Man. Teilhard, a Jesuit priest and paleontologist, proposed that the universe evolves toward a point of maximum complexity and consciousness, where everything that rises must converge. O’Connor, a devout Catholic, was drawn to Teilhard’s integration of science and faith, though she didn’t embrace all his ideas.
This story emerges from a tumultuous period in American history, in the South. The Supreme Court’s Brown v. Board of Education decision in 1954 had mandated school desegregation, and by the early 1960s, the Civil Rights Movement gained significant momentum. The story’s setting—a recently integrated bus in the South—places it within this historical crucible.
Written while O’Connor battled lupus at her family farm in Milledgeville, Georgia, the story reflects both her theological obsessions and her sharp observations of Southern society in transition. O’Connor wrote about racial integration from her perspective as a white Southern Catholic, during a time when such topics ignited controversy.
Scene to Exposition Ratio: Mastering the Balance
O’Connor’s mastery of the scene-to-exposition ratio in this story offers a vital lesson for writers. The story begins with exposition that establishes Julian and his mother’s relationship, economic situation, and opposing worldviews. However, O’Connor shifts to scene—the heart of the story unfolds in real-time on the bus and afterward. (A handout from our On Writing Short Stories is vital as it teaches to this particular story. Click here).
O’Connor uses exposition the way it’s meant to be used:
- To establish character background and motivation.
- To provide essential historical and social context.
- To reveal internal thoughts that contrast with external actions.
She reserves scene for moments of confrontation and tension. For revelation of character through action and dialogue. And for the climactic moments of grace (or in this case, devastating realization).
🧐 A question to ponder, do you see moments of exposition that could be scene? Did it run long and lose you? When and where?
Overall, O’Connor’s ratio favors scene over exposition once the characters leave their home, allowing readers to witness events rather than being told about them. This creates immediacy and impact, most powerful is the final scene where Julian’s mother suffers her stroke and he faces his moment of terrible clarity.
O’Connor demonstrates that exposition should serve the scene, not vice versa. The early exposition about Julian’s education, his mother’s sacrifices, and their differing views on race sets up the dramatic irony that plays out in the scenes that follow.
Breaking the Rules: Adverbs and Connector Words
Stephen King said “the road to hell is paved with adverbs,” yet O’Connor uses them throughout this story. Writing instructors (like me) warn against overusing connector words like “while” and “as,” too, yet O’Connor employs them with frequency. How does she succeed with these techniques?
Consider these passages:
“He walked along, saturated in depression, as if in the midst of his martyrdom he had lost his faith.”
“While his mother struggled to get tokens from her purse, he sat down on the other end of the seat where she finally sat down beside him.”
“As soon as they were moving, she said, ‘I knew you’d be sullen'”
In each case, the adverbs and connectors serve specific purposes:
- They establish the story’s rhythm and flow
- They reflect the characters’ Southern speech patterns
- They create a narrative voice with a distinctive texture
- They allow for compression of action and reaction
O’Connor breaks these “rules” because:
- She uses these devices with purpose, not from laziness
- Her distinctive voice makes these choices seem natural
- The precision of her prose earns her the right to break conventions
- These stylistic choices support the story’s themes and tone
The lesson isn’t that rules don’t matter, but that understanding why rules exist which allows writers to break them when their artistic vision demands it. The rule is to get rid of them as often as possible. Break that habit early on and later, with care and nuance, allow them back in.
Story Arc and Symbolic Progression
The story’s arc follows Julian’s failed attempt at moral and intellectual superiority, culminating in his devastating realization of his own emptiness when faced with his mother’s mortality. O’Connor builds this arc through escalating symbols and encounters:
The Hat
- Represents the mother’s vanity and outdated values
- Becomes a symbol of connection when the black woman boards wearing the identical hat
- Transforms into an emblem of humiliation for both women
- Becomes irrelevant in the face of mortality
The Bus Passengers and the Challenge to Worldviews:
- White passengers (familiar territory)
- The well-dressed black man (challenges mother’s paternalistic racism while confirming Julian’s superficial progressivism)
- The black woman with the same hat (creates the “convergence” that neither Julian nor his mother can process)
- The black woman’s child (catalyst for the final confrontation)
Julian’s Self-Awareness
- Begins with smug superiority and condescension toward his mother
- Seeks to teach her a “lesson” by attempting to talk to the well-dressed black man
- Fantasizes about extreme ways to shock her (bringing home a black woman)
- Fails to recognize his own prejudices and limitations
- Experiences a moment of terrible clarity when it’s too late
The story’s final lines represent Julian’s moment of convergence—when his intellectual posturing crumbles in the face of genuine human connection and loss:
“The tide of darkness seemed to sweep him back to her, postponing from moment to moment his entry into the world of guilt and sorrow.”
Here Julian begins to comprehend the weight of genuine human connection and responsibility, but after it’s too late. His mother, despite her flaws, possessed a human warmth and connection to others that Julian’s intellectual pride prevented him from valuing until the moment of its loss.
This is the quintessential O’Connor ending—a moment of grace delivered through shock and loss, revealing a truth the protagonist has been blind to throughout the story. Julian’s moment of clarity comes at tremendous cost, embodying O’Connor’s belief that moments of grace often come through violence and suffering. The convergence in the title happens not through Julian’s imagined social progress but through his confrontation with mortality and his own moral failures.
Prompt’s : Try 500-750 words on one below or find one for yourself
- When have you, or the character you’re writing about, had a moment of moral superiority that was so intense, so powerful, so all consuming that you (they) lost track of the deeper call to be kind?
- What certain something fosters deep resentment in you, or the character you’re writing about, that you (they) cannot get over, or forgive?
- What person, in your life, or the life of the character you’re writing about, harbors a powerful grudge against you and just barely tolerates you while also feeling the need to school you (or the character you’re writing about)?
- Is there someone you are utterly dependent on, or supporting, who resents you (or the character you’re writing about).
Below is a brilliant interpretation that goes the theological distance. Jessica, the teacher, is hushed in the presentation but the content is worth it.
