In Part 2, Thomas’s reflections on the state of his mind and body add depth to the theme of The Constraints of Inherited Labor. His difficulty in justifying his decision to remain a traditional shrimp fisherman shows a lack of clarity around his choices. For instance, he knows that he could make an income elsewhere and does not feel “sentimental” about continuing his grandfather’s trade, but he nevertheless feels stuck in the job. The author writes, “There’s a kind of gravity that holds him here, for definite, but most days he spends yearning to be free of it” (88). The gravity metaphor frames fishing as an overpowering force, revealing Thomas’s sense that he lacks agency. Thomas’s negative impression of his work is also evident in his self-consciousness about his body. When Mr. Acheson sketches him, Thomas feels uncomfortably aware of how his daily labor has shaped his physical form: “Now, being drawn, he’s too aware of his own body and its failings. How his spine must curve while he sits at the reins, the way his grandpa’s used to do. His ingrown nails begin to throb, his shoulders ache” (87). These pains further illustrate the high toll Thomas’s work takes on him.

Thomas and Mr. Acheson’s conversation also develops the novel’s theme of The Relationship Between Family, Identity, and Aspiration, as Thomas strongly relates to Mr. Acheson’s creative urges and respects the passion he has for his craft. For instance, when Mr. Acheson reveals that he is self-funding his new film, Thomas understands why he would make sacrifices for his creativity: “‘I suppose you’ve got your reasons,’ he replies, because that’s what Harry Wyeth had said to him the day he’d traded Pop’s old pocket watch for the guitar. He’s never had a glimmer of regret about it, either” (84). At the same time, Thomas does not agree with Mr. Acheson’s choice to leave his wife and daughter in order to make movies, suggesting that there is a limit to the sacrifices he will make in pursuit of his dreams. Thomas thinks, “But to not be present when you have the means—to shirk a father’s duty for the sake of making art—well, that’s a subtler version of abandonment. The world needs fewer men like Patrick Weir and more like Pop” (91). His admiration for Pop’s constancy as a provider shows that he inherited the man’s sense of familial duty and appreciates Pop’s efforts in raising him. More broadly, it reveals that Thomas remains tethered to his community and its values in important ways. The reflection thus captures Thomas’s internal conflict: He wants to fulfill his role as a provider for himself and his mother while still somehow making music, too.

Thomas’s strained relationship with his own creativity is bound up in his family relationships in other ways, as well. Because neither his grandfather nor his mother are musical people, Thomas assumes that he inherited this interest from his father, Patrick Weir, and longs to have a more positive concept of the man his Pop hated so much. Thomas visits the war memorial in the hopes of discovering just this: “Now and then, he’ll […] read through the inscriptions, cleaving to the hope that he might land on Patrick Weir and feel a current of affection for the man, some flash of pride. […] it’s comforting to have a picture to revere in his imagination” (73). Despite Pop’s harsh judgment of Weir, Thomas clings to the notion that his father might have been a good man whom he would have liked, but the gesture is futile; as Thomas knows, his father wasn’t from Longferry originally and therefore isn’t mentioned on the statue. The absence of the name evokes the broader silence surrounding Weir, suggesting that Thomas will never find what he’s looking for in Longferry. 

Thomas’s desperation to understand his father—and, through him, himself—is evident in his vivid hallucination while in the sinkpit. His dream about hearing his father’s song helps to relieve him of the confusion and anger he was encouraged to feel toward Weir while clarifying Thomas’s own tortured relationship with his music. Even after he realizes it was a dream, Thomas finds meaning in his subconscious experience: “He can’t pretend it wasn’t meaningful to know his father’s voice in concert with his own, how good it might’ve been” (117). By looking for positive connections with his father and trying to understand his own creative impulses, Thomas tries to reconcile the sense of practical duty he learned from his mother and grandfather with the ghost of his father and his own dreams for his life.

As Thomas gains confidence in his artistry, the novel continues to explore Creative Longing in the Face of Economic Hardship. Both he and Mr. Acheson feel limited in their creative expression because of circumstances beyond their control. Mr. Acheson complains that Hollywood executives (among others) have constrained his life and art, saying, “You don’t realise that most of what’ll happen to you is because of other people’s choices. There’s a door already opened for you, so you walk straight through it, and you wonder how you wound up on the fire escape” (92). As Thomas grapples with his creative impulses and wonders where they came from, he thinks about his own choices and how he is neglecting his passion: “Perhaps his appetite for music was inborn and he’s been drowning it at sea each morning he comes out here” (117). By depicting his job as killing his creativity, the author shows how Thomas’s financial constraints limit his musical expression. Similarly, Thomas considers mechanizing his shrimp fishing process, hoping that this would buy him more free time for his music and socializing: “If he brought in twice the haul each trip, he could reduce his hours at sea and spend more time at home with his guitar, improving. Then he wouldn’t be too tired for courting girls like Joan or too preoccupied by earning to appreciate the company of friends” (83). By considering how increasing his income could change his creative life, Thomas depicts his poverty as a significant barrier to his creative development.