The toy sailboat, which Sylvia and the other kids first see in the window of FAO Schwarz, represents wealth inequality. The boat, a hand-crafted toy that costs $1,195, astonishes the children both because of how beautiful it is and how much it costs. The kids recall the cheap sailboats they’ve made in the past and how quickly they’ve all fallen apart or been lost, and they realize that anyone who would spend over $1,000 on a toy sailboat has enough money that they wouldn’t care if it broke. Sylvia is angered by this idea, and her feelings toward the sailboat become increasingly complex. She seems to associate the sailboat with wealth itself: she covets the toy and wants to touch it, as demonstrated by her jealousy when Sugar later reaches out and strokes its surface, but she also finds its very existence upsetting. This is because it represents money that could be so valuable to her and her family—she later reveals that even $35 would be a lot of money for them. The sailboat thus symbolizes Sylvia’s complicated relationship with wealth: while it is exciting to see the luxuries wealth provides, the boat is also a grim reminder of the poverty faced by many people in Sylvia’s Harlem neighborhood.
The Toy Sailboat Quotes in The Lesson
So once again we tumble all over each other to gaze at this magnificent thing in the toy store which is just big enough to maybe sail two kittens across the pond if you strap them to the posts tight. We all start reciting the price tag like we in assembly. “Handcrafted sailboat of fiberglass at one thousand one hundred ninety-five dollars.”
“Unbelievable,” I hear myself say and am really stunned. I read it again for myself just in case the group recitation put me in a trance. Same thing. For some reason this pisses me off. We look at Miss Moore and she lookin at us, waiting for I dunno what.
And I watched Miss Moore who is steady watchin us like she waitin for a sign. Like Mama Drewery watches the sky and sniffs the air and takes note of just how much slant is in the bird formation. Then me and Sugar bump smack into each other, so busy gazing at the toys, ’specially the sailboat. But we don’t laugh and go into our fat-lady bump-stomach routine. We just stare at that price tag. Then Sugar run a finger over the whole boat. And I’m jealous and want to hit her. Maybe not her, but I sure want to punch somebody in the mouth.
I’m thinkin about this tricky toy I saw in the store. A clown that somersaults on a bar then does chin-ups just cause you yank lightly at his leg. Cost $35. I could see me askin my mother for a $35 birthday clown. “You wanna who that costs what?” she’d say, cocking her head to the side to get a better view of the hole in my head. Thirty-five dollars could buy new bunk beds for Junior and Gretchen’s boy. Thirty-five dollars and the whole household could go visit Granddaddy Nelson in the country. Thirty-five dollars would pay for the rent and the piano bill too. Who are these people that spend that much for performing clowns and $1,000 for toy sailboats? What kinda work they do and how they live and how come we ain’t in on it?
The Toy Sailboat Symbol Timeline in The Lesson
