Hagar: A Love Story

I did not begin the novel liking Hagar. For she was too rough, too foreign and too needy to empathize with.  Her love for Milkman, her cousin once-removed or what not, was an obsession that frightened me. The careful distinction between Hagar and her two Mamas, Reba and Pilate, was not one that tilted in her favor. She was the spoiled princess who demanded luxury. While her caretakers struggled to please her every whim - her happiness was the goal of their lives after all - she was still unsatisfied.

But as selfish and singleminded as Hagar appears, she does have a vulnerable side to her that draws sympathy. Her affections degrade her, rendering her subservient to the wishes and estimations of her beloved. As Guitar bluntly points out, she thinks that she is worthless because Milkman doesn't love her and believes completely in his judgement of her worth. For Hagar, love is about belonging. Yet rather than the typical you belong with me dynamic, she sees it as a belonging to kind of relationship. To love is to own, and to someone who is as prideful and self-indulgent as Milkman, that forceful affection is stifling. He who is used to convenience naturally despises being restrained by a woman, one who he only loves for her availability. One would almost say that he takes advantage of her and her boundless love, but can he really be accountable when she is willing to give herself to him so completely?

Guitar, who somehow transforms into a Dr. Phil-like character, observes that it is Hagar's lack of value for her own life that causes Milkman to lose interest in her. "He can't value you more than you value yourself" (Morrison 306). There is something overwhelmingly pitiful about that, and it puts a new light on Hagar's attempts to kill Milkman. She will never succeed because of how much she cares for him, yet she will never stop either because she can't bear for him to go on without her. It's a cruel and tragic circle. And the resulting death of Hagar only strengthens the sadness of this affair.