"Well, I wasn't usin' it!"

The Coenn Brothers' O' Brother, Where Art Thou? had a lot of really comical scenes and quotes. "We thought you was a toad!", "Cows! I hate cows more than coppers!", and "The color guard is colored!" all come to mind. But my personal favorite? The conversation that takes place after the group picks up Tommy from the crossroads. Let's look at the exact exchange in all of its glory:

Tommy: I had to be up at that there crossroads last midnight, to sell my soul to the devil. 
Everett: Well, ain't it a small world, spiritually speaking. Pete and Delmar just been baptized and saved. I guess I'm the only one that remains unaffiliated. 

Delmar: This ain't no laughing matter, Everett.

Everett: What'd the devil give you for your soul, Tommy? 
Tommy: Well, he taught me to play this here guitar real good. 
Delmar: Oh son, for that you sold your everlasting soul? 
Tommy Well, I wasn't usin' it!

(Clip is right here for reference: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fgcWfVvT_UM)

That last line is golden comedy to me. But under closer scrutiny, Tommy's decision to make a pact with the devil is pretty dark. Would you consider it worth to trade your soul for something temporary like fame or power? In fact, what does happen to Tommy in the end?

In case you guys don't already know, Tommy is based on a couple of blues singers, Robert and Tommy Johnson, who are rumored to have also sold their soul to the devil for really good guitar skills back in the early 1900's. They certainly aren't the first people who have made such a bargain with Satan. Pacts with the devil have been a pretty key cultural motif in a lot of Christian folktales. Throughout history,  some painters, war generals, doctors, and even priests have all been apparent victims of the devil's wiliness. Most of the time these people meet moralizing ends, with the person making the pact facing eternal damnation and all that jazz. But sometimes, the adventurer ends up out smarting the devil at his own games, often on a technicality. 

At first, it looked like Tommy fell within the first category. When he's about to be lynched by the KKK, he says himself that "I don't think nothin' is gonna save me now. The Devil's come to collect his due." He's now gonna suffer from eternal damnation and burn in hell for the rest of time, right? Well, not exactly. Through the aid of Everett, Delmar, and Pete, he manages to escape with the boys. Later on he plays guitar with the squad at the Stokes Gala Dinner, and finds what we all thought was Penny's lost ring in a rolltop desk he was floating on during the flood. Pretty standard stuff, no real hint at eternal damnation. In fact, he seems to get away pretty clean at the end of the movie. So who knows? Maybe the devil is lenient on his trade deals sometimes. And even if the devil does collect his due at a later date, it shouldn't matter too much right? After all, Tommy "wasn't usin' it!"

Poseidon, who seems to need a bib

Okay, so Poseidon and Odysseus. They have some history, I get it. Firstly, Poseidon supported the Trojans in the Trojan war while Odysseus was a part of the Greek forces who fought and defeated the Trojans. And more importantly, Odysseus blinded Polyphemus, Poseidon's cyclops son. The story goes that Odysseus and his men get stuck on Polyphemus' island, and after a few days of getting snacked on by the cyclops who happens to live there, Odysseus and all of his genius *tm* comes up with the plan to hide under the cyclops' sheep to secretly go into Polyphemus' lair. They do get in, they promptly blind him, and Odysseus tells the Cyclops that his name was "Nobody", so when Polyphemus went to his other cyclops buddies and they asked what happened to him he would say "Nobody blinded me!" But, before Odysseus actually leave the island for good, he can't help but brag to the cyclops. He taunts Polyphemus and tells him his real name so that Polyphemus will forever know who tricked him. Polyphemus then prays to Poseidon that either 1) Odysseus and his men get smited to oblivion, or 2) Poseidon makes their journey miserable. The second option is chosen.

Now, these are some pretty valid reasons to hold a grudge on someone. I think it's pretty damn reasonable to get pissed off when someone blinds your son. But Poseidon takes it to another level. He acts like a cross between a pouty crybaby and a cranky curmudgeon screaming at kids to "GET OFF MY LAWN"!. Except in this case, the lawn is the big blue scene. And the kids are Odysseus and his crew. but thats besides the point, shouldn't a god like him, one of the original "Big Three" gods with all of his earthshaking power have something better to do thank dick around trying to make Odysseus' life miserable? He's just some forever angry grudge holder who didn't seem to get enough hugs as a kid. In some ways his personality reflects the sea itself: somedays the waters will be calm, and other times the waves shall churn the ocean.

He forces Odysseus to wander the seas for just about 20 years. 20 years! Overkill much? Its cool you're trying to be a protective dad, but with all due respect your son *was* eating Odysseus' men. Odysseus has a kid too, ever think about that? Plus, his plan to make Odysseus' life harder just ended up giving Odysseus one of the greatest adventures known to man! Moral of the story kids, don't be an old fart!

Smithy and his Books

Smithy reads a few different books throughout his long and arduous journey across America. They help keep him entertained in the hours when he’s not riding his bike or meeting new people. However, there are some deeper meanings and parallels that the books illustrate. For one, the books and the concept of reading is just another part of Smithy’s past that he’s recovering on his quest. At first it’s comparable to Smithy learning how to ride his bike: it’s slow and painful. Quoting Smithy himself, “"Once you get back to it, it's easy, it's natural. But at first — like the deep, deep stab in your legs and hips and stomach and chest from the Raleigh — the sentences twist your head. I read eleven pages that afternoon before my brain said, 'Wait.'?Eleven pages. Headache" (pp. 122-123). When Smithy was first starting his book, he struggled for every word, just like he struggled on his bike.

But beyond just comparing his general reading with his bike ride, it’s also important to see connections between the materials he reads and his journey. His first book Iggy is on the story of a black cowboy. Iggy is a little out of place in the Wild West, kind of like how Smithy feels at times in his life. His second book, The Incidental Iconoclast by Lovella Loveland, is a little bit sketchier. It seems to be a romance novel of sorts, but for Smithy the cover has a voluptuous lady on it who reminded him of Norma. It’s a bit of a stretch, but it could technically show the budding of romantic interest for Norma in the previously unreciprocated relationship?

The next book is from the same author as Iggy, and also a cowboy story. This time however, it’s on a man who had lost an arm and a leg in an accident. There is again a connection that can be drawn between Smithy and the protagonist of the book he’s reading; both have war wounds, Smithy’s from Vietnam. Both books from this author give Smithy a kind of hope for his quest, that he can somehow be worthy of a story too.

Smithy’s last book, Suzanne of the Aspens, is a gift from Kenny’s mother and specially chosen for Smithy. A woman’s husband and son both die, so she is forced to survive on her own. Exactly like Smithy, she suddenly loses her family and is left trying to figure out her place in the world. The books could be interpreted as simple time fillers for Smithy, but upon deeper inspection, a deeper meaning seems to emerge. McLarty has inserted these narratives as little gems for the reader, each with their own equivalents or pieces to contribute to Smithy’s character.