The Street By Ann Petry: An Analysis

It’s a paradox that the blustery winds of a bleak evening could make a person warm. But that is exactly what happens when arctic blasts whip across frozen cheeks: they sting and burn, but ultimately, they incite a toasty glow. Both wintry images and apparent contradictions such as these adorn the pages of Ann Petry’s novel The Street. Through extensive personification and discordant diction, Petry unravels the antagonistic relationship between Lutie Johnson and the urban metropolis she finds herself in. Though Lutie is oppressed and battered by the biting winter environment, she fights back with just as much resolve, if not more, and is determined to prevail in finding a living space. And both parties in this relationship are equally combative:

Petry details gusts of air that “rattled the tops of garbage cans” and “sucked window shades” (2-3). Because words such as sucked and rattled are packed with harsh-sounding consonants, such as t’s and k’s, they illuminate the sense of dreariness and gloom brought about by the frigid chill of the metropolitan environment. The vivid description engendered by the cacophonous words is further enhanced by the onomatopoeia in the rattling of the trash can lids and serves to convey the desolation which tries to dishearten Lutie as she battles against the wind. Later on in the passage, Petry again includes phrases such as “dirt, dust, and grime” which conjure images of filthy streets and abandoned homes or warehouses, images which serve to depict the isolation and untidy nature of Lutie Johnson’s world (22-23). The sign she spots is “streaked with rust” and the paint is “eaten away”: hardly an ideal battleground to wage war on nature (52-54). It is not only the weather conditions which attempt to dampen Lutie’s spirits, but also the city’s state of decay and corrosion. These illustrations craft the idea that the city is far from the desirable tourist haven it would be depicted as on postcards and brochures, but rather one rendered barren by the bitter frost. While the wintry gale renders the streets void of nearly all life, Lutie persists and defies the

It “fingers its way along the curb” and “finds every scrap of paper on the streets;” it is a human-like adversary lurking in the frost (10-15). Additionally, Petry’s descriptive verbs create a mental picture of the wind as a sentient being creeping and crawling along the streets like a guerilla on the prowl. Perhaps the most poignant use of personification is when “the cold fingers of the wind touched the back of [Lutie’s] neck, explored the sides of her head” (38-40). The human nature of the wind grants it the physicality to wreak havoc in the urban setting and reach out, as if it had hands, to Lutie, sending shivers down her spine. This personification creates a sense that the natural world seeks to interfere with any comfort the city-dwellers may feel— pushing them into a zone of displeasure so that they flee back inside to the warmth of their homes. But Lutie Johnson is steadfast in her resilience to go apartment hunting. She treats the wind as a sister would a younger brother tugging on her braids: a pest, but not an intolerable one. The wind impedes her ability to complete her agenda, but she is successful all the