Bernice Bobs Her Hair

“He nodded here and there at the less absorbed and as he passed each couple some half-forgotten fragment of a story played in his mind, for it was not a large city and every one was Who’s Who to every one else’s past.”

This moment, as Warren walks through the crowd at the opening dance, gives a sense of the story’s social setting. The shared familiarity is distinctly Midwestern and mirrors the approach F. Scott Fitzgerald takes in sprinkling names and identifying details of side characters throughout the narrative.

“No matter how beautiful or brilliant a girl may be, the reputation of not being frequently cut in on makes her position at a dance unfortunate. […] When it comes to several dances and the intermissions between she can be quite sure that a young man, once relieved, will never tread on her wayward toes again.”

The idea of being “cut in on” is repeated throughout the story as proof of a girl’s popularity. Especially in this instance, Fitzgerald is satirizing social standards. Courtship leading to marriage is a primary goal of these dances, yet none of the dancing couples want to stay together too long. A person is judged not on desirable qualities, such as not stepping on toes or being “brilliant,” but on mere changeability.

“Though cousins, they were not intimates. As a matter of fact Marjorie had no female intimates—she considered girls stupid. Bernice on the contrary all through this parent-arranged visit had rather longed to exchange those confidences flavored with giggles and tears that she considered an indispensable factor in all feminine intercourse.”

This passage offers early insight into the differences between Marjorie and Bernice, not only as individuals but as women. Their contrasting perspectives highlight one struggle of the Jazz Age: Traditionalists like Bernice feel their familiar standards slipping away, while modernists like Marjorie may gain independence, but with the cost of isolation.

“‘I think it’s that crazy Indian blood in Bernice,’ continued Marjorie. ‘Maybe she’s a reversion to type. Indian women all just sat round and never said anything.’”

Marjorie purports a racist and hypocritical ideology. Though Mrs. Harvey refutes her claim, the closing lines of the story further align with this mindset. In the lead-up to this comment, Marjorie asserts her desire for independence, though in a way that earns her some social approval, since according to this comment, she sees a full break from society as “crazy.”

“People over forty can seldom be permanently convinced of anything. At eighteen our convictions are hills from which we look; at forty-five they are caves in which we hide.”

In his exploration of generational ideological change, Fitzgerald indicates that all perspectives have their flaws. The youth, like Marjorie, look down from their “hills” with a sense of having achieved something new, but that leads to social ruin for those like Bernice, who cannot climb. The elders, like Mrs. Harvey, hide in their “caves” of familiarity, which means they do not recognize the severity of Bernice’s struggle until the damage to her hair and reputation is already complete.

“Girls like you are responsible for all the tiresome colorless marriages; all those ghastly inefficiencies that pass as feminine qualities. What a blow it must be when a man with imagination marries the beautiful bundle of clothes that he’s been building ideals round, and finds that she’s just a weak, whining, cowardly mass of affectations!”

In a conversation that reveals their differing perspectives on femininity and social acceptability, Marjorie explains why she is frustrated with Bernice. Interestingly, Marjorie is not critiquing men’s approach to marriage, filled with “ideals” rather than reality, but instead blames women like Bernice who do not live up to those desires. Marjorie’s views about liberation are a distortion of feminist ideology and another form of discrimination against women that parallels patriarchal oppression.

“When a girl feels that she’s perfectly groomed and dressed she can forget that part of her. That’s charm. The more parts of yourself you can afford to forget the more charm you have.”

This aphorism is reinforced through moments when confidence contributes to popularity, such as when Bernice starts following Marjorie’s advice and flirts more assuredly. However, this comment also reveals Fitzgerald’s criticism of how fitting in to society requires a level of sacrificed individualism.

“‘But, of course, you’ve either got to amuse people or feed ’em or shock ’em.’ Marjorie had culled this from Oscar Wilde.”

Fitzgerald’s approach to social critique in this story, with pithy lines from Marjorie and unexpectedly tragic consequences for Bernice, aligns with the style of Oscar Wilde that is directly alluded to in this line. Interestingly, while Bernice seems dismissive of the use of borrowed lines to win over an audience, she, Marjorie, and the narrator all do so throughout the story.

“Though Draycott Deyo was in the throes of difficulties concerning baptism by immersion and might possibly have seen a connection, it must be admitted that he did not. He considered feminine bathing an immoral subject, and gave her some of his ideas on the depravity of modern society.”

Fitzgerald suggests how traditional and modern ideologies could learn from one another, but neither properly listens to nor considers the other. Instead, both Draycott and Bernice prove Marjorie’s earlier assertion that everyone holds on to the comfort of their established opinion.

“Bernice had all the sensations of Marie Antoinette bound for the guillotine in a tumbrel. […] It was a guillotine indeed, and the hangman was the first barber […]. Would they blindfold her? No, but they would tie a white cloth round her neck lest any of her blood—nonsense—hair—should get on her clothes.”

This allusion to Marie Antoinette suggests a tie between Bernice and the great beauty who fell from grace. Though the last line uses the “nonsense” aside to downplay the severity of the extended metaphor, the terms “hangman” and “blood” indicate a level of violence in Bernice’s hair-cutting experience.

“Her face’s chief charm had been a Madonna-like simplicity. Now that was gone and she was—well, frightfully mediocre—not stagy; only ridiculous, like a Greenwich Villager who had left her spectacles at home.”

The Madonna allusion is both biblical and artistic because Mary, the mother, with her baby Jesus were especially popular figures in Renaissance paintings. The second allusion is to Greenwich Village, a neighborhood in New York City that is especially popular with young artists whom Fitzgerald labels as “ridiculous” and unable to see clearly (both literally and figuratively). The contrast suggests that without her hair, Bernice has gone from a kind of holy and true artistry to a modern but flawed imitation of it.

“[A]nd behind her back they would all laugh and know that Marjorie had made a fool of her; that her chance at beauty had been sacrificed to the jealous whim of a selfish girl.”

Marjorie is a more complex character than Bernice through most of the story, in terms of her opinions and motivations. However, this quote indicates that the audience is not meant to agree with Marjorie, who, ultimately, is “a selfish girl.” Additionally, the fact that Bernice “sacrificed” for a chance at beauty is an often used conflict in literature.

“Suddenly she drew in her breath sharply and an expression flashed into her eyes that a practised character reader might have connected vaguely with the set look she had worn in the barber’s chair—somehow a development of it. It was quite a new look for Bernice and it carried consequences.”

This line confirms that by the end of the story, Bernice has been irrevocably changed by Marjorie, but not in the way either of them expected. The use of “flashed” symbolically indicates light, in the sense of a lightning-fast change or a sudden inspiration in Bernice (who then takes revenge by cutting Marjorie’s hair).