To Da-Duh, In Memoriam

The core theme of “To Da-duh, in Memoriam” is the conflict and cultural exchange between the generations, represented by Da-duh, the grandmother, and the narrator, her granddaughter. In discussing the story, Paule Marshall was explicit about this theme, writing, “I wanted the basic theme of youth and old age to suggest rivalries” (95). As in many works centered on this rivalry, Marshall’s story depicts the elderly as seeking to uphold tradition and seeing the old ways as best, while the youth embrace technology, embody modernity, and overturn traditions. However, despite this tension, the narrator does adopt some of the grandmother’s ways, showing her desire for a connection to her ancestors and her culture. 

The story establishes the basic conflict by juxtaposing the grandmother’s age with the narrator’s youth. At “only nine,” the narrator has “lean hips” and must repeatedly “look up” to see her grandmother—physical details that emphasize her girlish stature and physique. By contrast, descriptions of the grandmother emphasize her worn appearance, even implying that she is near death: “The maggots might have already done their work, leaving only the framework of bone beneath the ruined skin and deep wells at the temple and jaw” (96-97). This depiction of Da-duh as deathly even in life suggests that the way of life she represents is already obsolete. In the same paragraph, however, the narrator notes a childlike quality to her grandmother’s eyes and flat chest, wondering “whether she might not be some kind of child at the same time that she was a woman” (97). Besides foreshadowing the grandmother’s naivete on certain subjects, this blending of youth and age suggests the possibility of common ground; the two characters are not such opposites as they might seem. 

As the story progresses, each character’s symbolic associations crystallize: The grandmother’s “old-fashioned” clothing echoes her attachment to the island where the family has lived for generations, while the narrator comes from a world of technology and greater racial equality. Nevertheless, there are moments of cultural exchange. While Da-duh shows her the bounty of the island, especially its sugarcane and other fruit, the narrator tells Da-duh about New York, “recreating [her] towering world of steel and concrete and machines for her” (102). The narrator comes to appreciate Barbadian culture, as represented by her paintings of “seas of sugar-cane and huge swirling Van Gogh suns and palm trees” (106), and even to adopt some of her grandmother’s expressions. 

As much as the two characters share with each other, however, it is always within the context of a competition; the narrator observes that their exchanges “always [begin] with some slighting remark on her part” (102). Moreover, despite their growing rapport, there are aspects of her grandmother’s worldview that the narrator refuses to accept—namely, her grandmother’s internalization of colonial hierarchies. She is unapologetic in reporting that she beat up a white girl who called her a name, something that her grandmother, who expressed a preference for lighter-skinned grandchildren, finds shocking. The narrator’s attitude represents a broader shift among the younger generations, including those striking workers on Barbados, who do not accept the traditional colonial hierarchies their ancestors once adapted to.