1By any reasonable standards, the story of a doctor prying a little girl’s mouth open as she screams in pain and fear should leave readers feeling nothing but horror and disgust at the doctor’s actions. William Carlos Williams’s story “The Use of Force” is surprising in that it does not completely condemn the doctor for doing just that. Instead, through his actions and words (utterred or thought), readers are able to see the freeing, transformative power of breaking with social conventions. Thus, they are also encouraged to rethink what is acceptable and unacceptable in polite society.

2Social conventions and proper conduct are prominent themes in Williams’s story, in which the mother and father of the sick little girl are fixated on acting and speaking within the boundaries of politeness. The parents demonstrate this tendency most obviously in how they go out of their way to be respectful to the doctor. Upon his arrival at their home, the mother preemptively says that “[he] must excuse [them]” for bringing him into the kitchen, where they are keeping the child warm (501). There, the father makes an effort to “get up” to greet the doctor (501). The parents’ efforts continue and take on even greater urgency when the child is uncooperative with the doctor as he tries to examine her throat. When she succeeds in knocking his glasses to the floor, her parents “almost [turn] themselves inside out in embarrassment and apology” (502). At certain moments, keeping up appearances seems to become disproportionately important, overshadowing their concern for their daughter’s well-being. The mother’s ultimate argument, meant to be stronger even than her threat to take the girl to the hospital, is to shame her daughter over her discourteous behavior. “Aren’t you ashamed to act like that in front of the doctor?” she asks (503). The ending of her statement is key because it raises the question, would the daughter’s misbehavior be shameful if no one outside of the family witnessed it? In other words, to what extent should concerns over appearances determine rightful and wrongful conduct?

3In contrast to the little girl’s parents, the doctor breaks social conventions in his interactions with the family and in doing so highlights the absurdity of these rules. From the beginning we see him as someone who pushes aside polite but pointless practices; for example, he “motion[s] for [the father] not to bother” standing for a greeting when it would have disturbed the child on his lap (501). The doctor’s disregard for social conventions applies most to his tendency to give voice to thoughts rather than to keep them to himself for fear of sounding rude or causing discomfort. When the mother scolds her daughter for knocking the glasses off the “nice man” (502), the doctor’s reaction borders on outright rudeness: “For heaven’s sake, I broke in. Don’t call me a nice man to her. I’m here to look at her throat on the chance that she might have diphtheria and possibly die of it” (502).

4But is the doctor really giving voice to such reactions? The absence of quotation marks in the story leaves it uncertain which lines are and are not spoken aloud, creating a thought-provoking ambiguity. For example, does the doctor actually respond with “Oh yeah?” to the mother’s threat to take the girl to the hospital, or does he care enough to keep such an irreverent reaction to himself (502)? In any case, readers are presented with the possibility of imagining that all the doctor’s thoughts—no matter how offensive, belittling, or inappropriate—are expressed aloud. In fact, the very existence of the text and our reading of it give these thoughts expression, turning a stylistic choice into the ultimate statement on how social considerations limit our actions and expressions.

5The doctor also breaks with social conventions by willingly engaging in a physical struggle with the little girl. This conflict might be interpreted as a process of reverse socialization or reverse civilization, a transformation that, surprisingly, the story presents as a potentially positive change. While the doctor stoops to the primitive tactics of the little girl, he does not view her in a negative light. To the contrary, from the beginning, he—and, through him, readers—sees the little girl as “unusually attractive” and “strong,” with “magnificent blonde hair.” This description of her seems almost angelic (501). Through the doctor’s conflict with her, his admiration grows. He comes to respect, even “love,” the girl for her raw spirit that allows her to “[rise] to magnificent heights” in her struggle against him (502). Such worshipful language—note the repetition of the word “magnificent,” for example—leads readers to understand the girl and her strength as something closer to glory and divinity than to savagery. The doctor’s entering a similar state might thus be read as his reeducation into a finer, truer self. Indeed, it is at these points in the story when he uses the most sophisticated language and the most involved metaphors. Thus, the story demonstrates, through the doctor’s transformation, that the casting off of social conventions might lead not to a reduced state of humanity but to a purer, more admirable state of being.

6In a story where politeness is made to seem absurd, the doctor’s tactless words and his inappropriate use of force actually have the potential to be improvements on his character. By tossing aside social conventions, he brings himself closer to the glorious heights of the little girl, who, from the story’s beginning, is magnificent and strong in her stubbornness. In the characters of the mother and father, readers come to understand also that politeness can stand in the way of accomplishing a task or communicating a clear meaning, and thus the doctor’s actions are in the service of honesty and efficiency. Thus framed, the story leads readers to a point where they cannot fully condemn the doctor’s outwardly abhorrent actions and instead must reconsider their own metric of what is and is not socially appropriate.

Work Cited

Williams, William Carlos. “The Use of Force.” The St. Martin’s Guide to Writing. Ed. Rise B. Axelrod and Charles R. Cooper. 10th ed. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2013. 501–03. Print.