Talk:Z for Zachariah/Archive 1

Latest comment: 12 years ago by Seoulseeker in topic Re: Rape
Archive 1Archive 2Archive 3

Children's novel?

"Children's novel"? Really? --HanzoHattori 22:59, 26 July 2007 (UTC)

Really, this book is as far as you can go into post-nuclear genre, before the imagery will require an older reader to understand. I remember picking up this book, back in 7th (6th? 8th?) grade due to the cover. It does not have descriptions of burned bodies and overall destruction, since most of the story is based in the valley. Flashback are also non-violent. - gufu —Preceding unsigned comment added by 24.128.221.53 (talk) 04:17, 15 January 2009 (UTC)

I'm not sure that necessarily makes it a children's novel... it definitely suitable for children, but does that make it specifically a children's novel? To Kill a Mockingbird, for example, is definitely not a children's novel, but that doesn't stop it being suitable for children, and being studied at school. TalkIslander 11:18, 27 April 2009 (UTC)

Deleted: "She also remembers seeing a human-sized cage next to a cage for Faro in the house." (added by 131.204.175.221)

There are no cages in the story for either a dog or a human. The only remotely similar description is Ann’s imagining of Loomis's plans: "I realized that whatever Mr. Loomis was planning, at the end of the plan was a picture, and it was of me, too, tied up like Faro in the house" (191). --Seoulseeker (talk) 21:21, 12 June 2012 (UTC)

140.180.246.15, responding to reversions by Seoulseeker to biased and inaccurate content

I'm afraid, having recently read the book, I still think Seoulseeker's interpretations are strongly (and strangely!) biased in favor of Loomis and against Ann. However, it appears that Seoulseeker is attached to this particular lens of viewing this book, and I'm afraid I do not care enough to get into edit wars over this (although I would find it extremely, extremely unfortunate if anyone were to take Loomis's behavior in the book as an acceptable model of social interaction).

But my primary objections/defenses are below:

Ann is in a position of highly unequal power (see: attempted rape by Loomis, which she only barely escapes; his tracking of her; his demonstrated willingness to shoot her to injure her, and shoot-to-kill his lab partner, none of which she even *considers* reciprocating, which leaves their both-having-guns status substantially unequal; his physical strength; the fact that to rape her, he just needs to find her at a disadvantage or temporarily unarmed; Loomis padlocking her source of food, taking the key to her family's tractor, burning her supplies in the cave and, strangely, her only book). Given how she's boxed in, her choices are not entirely free. (as a bank robber might say "you can either hand over the money or be shot"; this is a free choice in one sense, but not a free choice in another, more meaningful sense) Her concerns over who might enter the valley were supported by the final Boston radio broadcast (which indicated that at least many people were not acting humanely by the broadcaster's standard at least) and by general human history (the weaker or less aggressive party often does not survive contact; if it does, it is often enslaved). While human continuity would eventually require procreation, her significant caution in wishing to observe this peculiarly-acting stranger (note his suspicious approach to the house) before showing herself and hence putting herself at risk of being actively hunted or shot seems very sensible to me.

When Loomis asks Ann repeatedly why she is asking if he's ever been married (as she attempts to get to know him), he grabs her hand forcefully and pulls her further and further off-balance, then threatens her when her hand hits him as she's falling off her chair (it's unclear whether this is an instinctive defensive reaction or whether it was just the sheer consequences of her falling over). This should be obvious, but this is not how to communicate and build trust or a relationship in any situation, let alone as an older and physically stronger male attempting to start something romantic with a 16-year-old female.

Ann does decide, when she realizes Loomis can track her using Faro, and she has a clear shot, to shoot her dog, but is then unable to pull the trigger - but still feels like a murderer for choosing to shoot her dog (this is where the quote about her feeling like as much of a murderer as Loomis comes from - I would argue that shooting a dog in self-defense is not equivalent to shooting a human lab partner in self-defense). It's worth noting that she did not at any point attempt to shoot Loomis (even "shoot to injure" as he did to her), although she had ample opportunities and it would have made her life significantly easier. I still believe it is unclear whether Faro's actual death is deliberate later; the creek plan sounds more impromptu ("I knew then what I had to do", or something to that effect, *between* the gunshots at the shed and getting to the creek) and, since Loomis survived swimming the creek for a decent period of time, she may expect Faro to as well (she expects Faro to be sick, as Loomis had been sick, but he dies the evening after instead of continuing to be sick). Even so, Faro is a dog, not a human being.

It's true that demarcating boundaries for work and food (when Ann offers to work on the farm and provide him food, but only if he physically stays away from her, after he attempts to pin her in her bed at night and she runs away) is not a full negotiation in a give-and-take sense, since Loomis does not offer a different but also acceptable solution. He could have done this by, for instance, allowing her to have Faro, or by arranging a way for her to inhabit a building locked against him until trust was rebuilt. These options would have been far more sane than Loomis's decisions in the book were.

The only logically successful method of mutual survival would have been to reach to a point of mutual trust and cooperation where they can work together well, divide farming responsibilities, get married/have children together, etc. (which, after Loomis falls sick initially, is Ann's hope, although obviously this hope is subject to further data-gathering and time, since she still does not know him well). Loomis absolutely destroys this with both actions and words, which is surprising for someone who has been able to work with others in a lab environment (where locking down control and physically attacking co-workers is not seen as acceptable), but from his hallucinations during radiation-sickness (which result in him going outside, getting a gun and shooting at the house because he thinks Edward is in the attic?), and from his other... non-optimized... behavior, such as attempting to rape Ann, he seems to have some mental damage and paranoia, especially about survival and keeping control of the safe-suit (not that surprising, given what he's been through).

Loomis walks differently around Ann than when he thinks she's not around (I don't have the page number handy, but he goes outside to check on something while he's still pretending to need a cane to walk while he's around Ann). Along with the odd cane-tapping behavior while she's at the piano, I am confident that this counts as hiding his level of recovery (and trying to ascertain how "jumpy" she is - also not a demonstration of good intentions), especially since this is shortly before he tries to pin her in her bed at night while she is asleep, with no previous discussion of anything of the sort. (obviously, trying to pin her down in bed at night while she is asleep, with the apparent intent of rape, is particularly unacceptable behavior which would normally indicate that he is either a criminal or a lunatic; in this case, since this action is clearly breaking trust with Ann, which he needs for mutual survival, it's decidedly irrational as well)

At the end of the book, it sounds like what stops Loomis from killing Ann is her pointing out that if Loomis kills her like he killed Edward, he will again be alone in the world, at which point his voice breaks; this is a potent disincentive. — Preceding unsigned comment added by 140.180.246.132 (talk) 21:53, 29 September 2012 (UTC)

Book club

Can we take the book club that formed on this page somewhere else? --Daysleeper47 (talk) 19:27, 2 October 2012 (UTC)

POV-check

This article appears to suffer from POVioring, and ownership. It also appears to be original research, reading rather like an elementary book report synopsizing the plot from a specific pov with no references to authorities and paraphrasing (to that pov) the two uncited reviews. Even a cursory examination of the linked contemporary reviews supports an interpretation of Loomis as violent and unscrupulous, an attempted rapist.

While reviewing the plot through the lens of "the unreliable witness" may possibly be justifiable, it is not verifiable and is certainly original research. It seems to be inappropriate to be present in a Wikipedia article unless it is cited, at the least, and even then should be a footnote and not the primary POV. - Amgine (talk) 19:38, 2 October 2012 (UTC)

Re: POV-check comment and "book club"

The summary is completely accurate, presenting the facts of the story without bias. Recent reversions of one editor's comments were all to correct inaccuracies, including quotes and page references for verification. Anyone can check the facts conveniently if they wish to. If the summary is changed to reflect the consensus opinion of reviewers, it is an interpretation rather than a summary. The problem is that some readers wish to ignore facts of the story to believe what they wish about it. Also, if the article is, as you say, like an "elementary book report," it is strange that its ratings for reliability, objectivity, completeness, and quality of writing are usually 4.0 or above. I don't think your assessment is fair or reasonable.

Yes, my viewpoint on the story is unconventional, and I have been forthright about that from the start. But there is some support for it even in the linked reviews. As one quoted reviewer noted, both characters are "crazed by paranoia." I intend to add further research with citations as soon as possible in the sections on character analysis. If anyone else adds such research with citations, I'd be very happy about it no matter what it says. But adding inaccurate opinions or assumptions to the plot summary should not be acceptable.

As to the "book club" on the Talk page, it seems to me that this is what the page is for--discussion of the article and its topic. Until the recent discussion began here, this page was practically unused, containing only a couple of short comments from 2007 and 2009 about whether Z for Z is a children's story. Whatever is said here about the story, it can be useful and thought-provoking for people who are interested in it. If it encourages debate, that seems good. Also, how else can interested editors explain and discuss their views? Seoulseeker (talk) 16:36, 3 October 2012 (UTC)

Responses re: interpretation of story details

Loomis’s presumed “attempted rape”

No one claims attempted rape is “an acceptable model” of behavior. To assume Loomis is a rapist begs the question and makes a straw man argument. The story only presents Ann’s highly emotional first-person account of this incident, so it is certainly possible she misjudges him.

  1. Ann already knows that Loomis assumes they must live together and start a colony. On perhaps June 18, when he stated matter-of-factly, “we’ve got to plan as if this valley is the whole world, and we are starting a colony” (152), he expressed his assumptions about their relationship plainly. Ann notes that his ideas were nearly the same as the ones she had before while plowing. If Ann does not tell Loomis she is unready to start a relationship, he may just assume she thinks the same way.
  2. Ann assumes Loomis thinks she is asleep, but he probably knows she is awake. When Ann hears Loomis’s breathing, she guesses he can hear hers also (175). It is unlikely Ann could control her breathing quickly enough that he would not notice her waking. Also, it is unlikely Loomis would expect her to stay asleep as he bumped the bed, felt over her to find her shoulder, and then rested his hand firmly there. If she were not awake already, she would wake when he touched her.
  3. Some of Ann’s descriptions of Loomis reflect her assumptions, not facts about his behavior and intentions. She says he “crept,” implying an effort to be secretive; but he always moves slowly because he only began walking again a few days earlier (162). She says his touch was “dreadful, possessive,” but she cannot know he had a possessive attitude, and she also says he did not touch her roughly (175). So he was gentle, yet dreadfully possessive?!
  4. If Loomis knew Ann was awake, it must greatly change our understanding of his behavior and character. Ann's assumption he might go away if he thought her asleep also implies the opposite. Why would he be less likely to leave if he thought her awake? If he knew she was awake and she said nothing to stop him, he might just assume she accepted his presence.
  5. On the other hand, if Loomis believed Ann was asleep, he can only be viewed as a contemptible rapist and the exact kind of cruel tyrant Ann has feared from the start. But this interpretation of Loomis seems entirely inconsistent with his background, his behavior with Ann until this time, and his stated concern for building a colony together. Obviously, it would not be rational to expect her cooperation in any long-term project if he treated her as a slave.
  6. Also, if Ann is really certain that Loomis tried to rape her, it seems odd she never writes about such a traumatic incident again (or has nightmares like Loomis) and she appears to forget what a monster he must be. She continues giving him a share of food and supplies, she considers being friendly again, and she seems to blame him more for relatively trivial offenses.
  • Ann allowed Loomis to swim in a dead stream before knowing anything about him; yet after a supposed rape attempt, she writes, “I could not let him starve, no matter what he had done” (183). She seems to fear him less after his night-time visit than she did when he was a complete stranger!
  • After Loomis locks the store, Ann considers that he might just be desperately lonely, so she thinks it would be sensible to offer to talk with him sometimes from the roadside: “There was no reason I should not be as friendly as safety permitted” (218). This makes no sense if he is really a cruel rapist, since she could never be safe with him anywhere in the valley.
  • Ann’s hatred for Loomis and desire for revenge are aroused not by his despicable rape attempt but by the burning of her favorite book: “That memory stirs my harshest feelings toward Mr. Loomis.…I admit that I want to hurt him, and cause him grief. He deliberately ruined the thing I prized most. Stealing the safe-suit will be my revenge” (231).
  • Even at their last meeting, she never mentions the incident that caused her to run away, and her last words of blame just accuse him of never thanking her (248). Ann herself describes these last words as “childish” (248).

In conclusion, when Loomis visited Ann at night on June 27, it's likely that he believed (correctly) they thought the same way about their relationship, he knew she was awake, and he assumed her silence gave him tacit permission. Moreover, Ann’s inconsistent thinking about Loomis afterwards suggests that she does not really believe he is either a rapist or a cruel tyrant. Rather, these are extreme fears she has at times, but she simultaneously assumes he is an ordinary person who deserves help and needs companionship. It is not sensible to blame a presumed murderer, rapist, and tyrant for burning a book or being ungrateful. These are offenses we blame ordinary people for, since we expect them to share the same ideas of morality. --Seoulseeker (talk) 15:48, 4 October 2012 (UTC)

Assumptions about guns and unequal power

“Ann is in a position of highly unequal power (see: attempted rape…his tracking her…willingness to shoot her to injure her, and shoot-to-kill his lab partner, none of which she even *considers* reciprocating, which leaves their both-having-guns status substantially unequal; his physical strength; the fact that to rape her, he just needs to find her at a disadvantage or temporarily unarmed; Loomis padlocking the store…burning her supplies…Given how she’s boxed in, her choices are not entirely free.”

  1. It’s an obvious fact that guns are great equalizers, which is why their appearance in 15th-century Europe ended the age of chivalry. Ann is not only equal in power to Loomis through having a gun; she appears more knowledgeable and experienced with guns than he is (27), she watches him from hiding while he is in the open, and she has the home advantage of knowing the valley. Moreover, when Loomis later tracks Ann in the forest, it is clear he feels at a disadvantage when he yells in fear and flees upon realizing Ann is still armed (234).
  2. In terms of gun use, another difference between Ann and Loomis is their purpose in carrying a rifle. Ann carries her rifle only for use against another person, fearing a possible threat. On the other hand, Loomis may carry a gun partly or even mainly for the purpose of hunting. His behavior in entering the valley unarmed, walking in the open, and calling out three times suggests he does not expect a threat. When he takes out a rifle, he rests it on the wagon instead of holding it ready. The next morning, he uses the rifle to shoot a chicken, and Ann sympathizes with his probable craving for fresh meat (27). Then, when he explores south carrying a rifle, he uses it to shoot at a rabbit, which Ann later notes is "good to eat" (79).
  3. References to Loomis’s threatening behavior often make false assumptions about his purposes and character. First, Loomis kills Edward in self-defense when directly threatened, as Ann at first recognizes (126); and Ann does much worse in not warning him about a deadly stream. Second, he is probably not a rapist (see 6.1 above). Third, though his attempts to track and wound Ann are extreme and unreasonable, they can be understood without viewing him as a sociopath. He clearly thinks it is foolish for Ann to live separately and deny friendship, since she is wasting store supplies, hindering their survival efforts, and sabotaging their shared hope of saving their species. But it is probably not just practicality that drives him to resort to force. As Ann herself considers, he may be desperately lonely. This is also suggested at their last meeting when he begs her not to leave him alone (247).
  4. Claiming that superior strength would enable Loomis to rape Ann any time she is at a disadvantage ignores that (1) he is probably not a rapist, (2) he would be at a disadvantage sometimes, too, and (3) trying to enslave Ann could not be practical over the long-term for raising a family and saving their species.
  5. On the issue of Ann's freedom, see 3.5 above for a summary of important choices she makes freely.
  6. It makes no sense to say Ann never "reciprocates" Loomis's actions. Even if it were true Loomis attempts to rape and enslave her, these acts could not be reciprocated unless Ann did the same to him! What you mean is that Ann doesn't take revenge. But in fact she explicitly states, "Stealing the safe-suit will be my revenge" (231). So she very clearly DOES take revenge. But revenge is NOT justice! The truth is that she misunderstands his behavior, overreacts to it, and finally dooms them both with her petty vengeance. Further, she has no right at all to take revenge for what Loomis did to Edward, since (1) she was not affected by it and (2) she has no right to judge (particularly after letting him swim in a poisoned stream to ensure her own safety!). Ann's moral judgments of Loomis are hypocritical. Seoulseeker (talk) 18:12, 17 October 2012 (UTC)

The Boston broadcaster & Ann’s unreasonable fear of an approaching stranger

“Her concerns over who might enter the valley were supported by the final Boston radio broadcast (which indicated that at least many people were not acting humanely by the broadcaster’s standard at least) and by general human history (the weaker or less aggressive party often does not survive contact; if it does, it is often enslaved).”

Ann’s fears are unjustified because the Boston broadcaster’s situation was entirely different from hers. He was one of a few survivors in a shelter with dwindling supplies of air and food. Ann recalls, “He said that men should act with dignity even in the face of death, that no one was better off than any other” (6). Apparently, the last few survivors were beginning to fight over the remaining supplies even though they were all doomed. Ann’s situation is entirely different because she lives in a valley able to sustain life indefinitely and where there is no need to fight over diminishing resources in the face of death. Rather, Ann’s situation should make her hope above all (as she did for a long time) that a man will come who can be a companion and have a family with her (36).

Historical parallels: the strong vs. the weak, or selfish rivalry?

The assumption that history proves the strong always dominate the weak is a broad generalization that, as with the claim above, ignores important differences between circumstances. For instance, Loomis’s arrival in the valley bears no similarity at all to the arrival of conquering Europeans in the Americas. In fact, Ann even imagines Loomis in the role of an Indian, not a colonizer: “He looked like an Indian on horseback in an old Western movie” (210). Also, Ann is actually more possessive of the valley than Loomis (see 3.10 above).

More relevant historical parallels to the story can be found in Edna St. Vincent Millay’s “Epitaph for the Race of Man,” Ann’s favorite poem that she recites while plowing (96). While outlining humanity’s tremendously resilient will to survive throughout their history, the speaker notes that the greatest threat to humans comes from their own egotism, or selfishness:

Alas for Man, so stealthily betrayed,
Bearing the bad cell in him from the start,
Pumping and feeding from his healthy heart
That wild disorder never to be stayed
When once established, destined to invade
With angry hordes the true and proper part,
Till Reason joggles in the headman's cart,
And Mania spits from every balustrade.
Would he had searched his closet for his bane,
Where lurked the trusted ancient of his soul,
Obsequious Greed, and seen that visage plain;
Would he had whittled treason from his side
In his stout youth and bled his body whole,
Then had he died a king, or never died.

In the story, Ann appears far more manic (or irrational) than Loomis, and her fears are all self-centered. Even when she fears Loomis will die, it is due not to kindness but to fear of being alone forever. In contrast, Loomis's first action in the valley is to call out in hope of finding others; and, until he visits Ann at night, he seems only considerate, reasonable, and practical--despite Ann's fears. Loomis's only selfish behavior is shown in nightmares of experiences with Edward, when he feared a direct threat to his survival and acted in self-defense. Ann's fear of Loomis at the start, leading her to let him swim in a dead stream, is far less justified. Loomis's behavior only really becomes questionable when he visits Ann at night, but even then it is not clear he acts wrongly (see 6.1 above). He might know Ann is awake and assume she accepts his presence. Even in his most extreme actions while trying to force Ann out of hiding in the wilderness, he appears concerned about their mutual survival and saving the human species from extinction. Ann, however, cares only about imagined threats to her freedom and repeatedly sabotages efforts for their own and human survival--e.g., hiding, allowing Loomis to be poisoned, denying all friendship, and finally leaving the last habitable valley. --Seoulseeker (talk) 23:24, 6 October 2012 (UTC)

Loomis’s expectations of Ann and her inexperience with dating

“…this is not how to communicate and build trust or a relationship in any situation, let alone as an older and physically stronger male attempting to start something romantic with a 16-year-old female.”

Perhaps Loomis should be more sensitive to Ann’s character, but she is not too young to marry or have children. The age of consent in Canada and most US states is 16. According to statistics cited in Wikipedia, 41% of 15- to 16-year-olds in the US are sexually active and most females abstain from fear of STDs or pregnancy—concerns seemingly irrelevant to Ann.

Ann herself seems to think she is unusually inexperienced at dating. While writing of her wish to marry Loomis in a year, she admits she has never had a real date and schoolboys viewed her as an unfashionable “hillbilly” (80-81). Later, writing of the handholding incident, she observes, “It was the kind of thing the girls at school used to tell about after they had had a date” (161). This comparison might suggest the best way to understand Loomis’s behavior and Ann’s feelings about it.

Loomis apparently just expects Ann to be more mature as a 16-year-old than she is, as is suggested when he says, “I can only hope you will change your mind…and act more like an adult and less like a schoolgirl” (190). It is not unreasonable to expect this, since Ann probably should be more mature given their situation as the last couple following a nuclear war.

The main problem might be Ann’s extreme naïveté and emotionalism, which Loomis simply does not understand. Her diary entries show foolishly unrealistic expectations that their relationship should go through conventional stages of dating, getting engaged, and having a church wedding (81, 156-57). Also, though knowing Loomis is probably the last man (45), Ann worries absurdly about whether he likes her or she likes him enough—as if either of them had a choice in this situation. These thoughts are as sensible as worrying whether to wear jeans or a dress when she hides from an approaching stranger (18).

Interpreting the “hand-holding” incident

“When Loomis asks Ann repeatedly why she is asking if he's ever been married (as she attempts to get to know him), he grabs her hand forcefully and pulls her further and further off-balance, then threatens her when her hand hits him as she's falling off her chair (it's unclear whether this is an instinctive defensive reaction or whether it was just the sheer consequences of her falling over). This should be obvious, but this is not how to communicate and build trust or a relationship in any situation…..”

Ann’s intentions in asking about Loomis’s past love life

The chapter about the handholding incident is pivotal and requires careful analysis. Ann’s intentions are more complicated than a simple wish to get to know Loomis, and the incident appears to have a great influence on her thinking about Loomis—shown by her biased conclusions afterwards (see 3.11 above) and her sudden assumption that Loomis is a murderer (157).

One problem is determining how much Ann’s feelings after the incident influence her description of it. Did she think of Loomis as a murderer beforehand, or does increased fear cause her to make that assumption while writing? If she already thought of him as a cruel murderer, it is less likely she’d still want to know him better as a partner. So it is probable that Ann was still unsure about Loomis’s morality, as when she debated about it earlier:

“I suppose I have to accept the idea that Mr. Loomis shot Edward and killed him, and that is a terrible thought, because he is the only other human being I am ever likely to know” (126).

Because Loomis seems the last man, Ann hopes he is not a murderer. However, at the same time, she has a great fear of meeting a murderer and being enslaved (see 3.7). This fear lessened when Loomis was in danger of dying but then returned after she heard his nightmares and he began regaining strength (see 3.7.1). It is probably due to this fear that Ann misinterprets Loomis’s behavior as “controlling” (see 3.10, 3.11).

When Ann explains her intentions, she begins by explaining a growing feeling since the start of Loomis’s recovery that she “did not know him at all” (156). She thinks he told her little about himself, he was “even more reserved” after his sickness, and he never showed any interest in Ann—except for seeming to like her piano playing once (157). Ann explains two “theories” she has about his apparent reserve: (1) his “murder” of Edward and terrible experiences alone make him suppress memories, and (2) his sickness may have “changed parts of his mind” (157). Finally, Ann writes, “whatever the cause [of his reserve], I did not believe we could go on forever as strangers” (157). Then she says she thought of scenes in stories or movies when couples first meet and one says, for instance, “Tell me all about yourself” (157).

Ann’s preliminary explanation shows the following:

  • She was already suspicious of Loomis.
  • She either already viewed him as a murderer or at least feared that possibility.
  • She feared he might be crazy.
  • She still thought of him as a potential lifetime partner that she needed to get to know better.

Thus, it seems that Ann’s confused intentions when she questioned Loomis were:

  1. to test if his experiences and illness had left him repressed or crazy.
  2. to get to know him as a possible partner.
  3. to find out if he liked her (out of concern he’d shown no interest in her).

Ann did NOT simply wish to get to know him better, and she was not honest with Loomis about any of her concerns. Rather, she decided at this time not to reveal her knowledge about Edward (157), in effect denying Loomis any chance to explain himself. She preferred to guess about his character by just observing him and asking indirect questions while hiding her own thoughts. When he then asked her to explain her thoughts frankly, she was paralyzed by fear.

Interpreting Ann’s and Loomis’s behavior

Ann at first asked Loomis very mundane factual questions that understandably elicited short responses rather than interesting conversation. For example, she asked where his cousin lived whose piano playing he enjoyed. When Ann complains that he seemed “determined to be uninteresting” because he just told her a town’s name without elaborating (158), she does not realize that her questions are to blame. Also, she fails to grasp that it takes two people to make a conversation, since she said nothing about herself to contribute.

Another important fact Ann overlooks is that Loomis’s indifferent responses showed no sign he was suppressing memories of the past. Loomis probably just viewed his past as irrelevant and uninteresting in their current situation. Bang goes one of Ann’s theories—unnoticed by her.

However, when Ann asked Loomis if he was ever married, he suddenly became very interested, took her hand, held it between both of his, and replied seriously, “No, I never got married. Why did you ask that?” (159). Loomis clearly assumed there was an important purpose behind Ann’s question, and he wished her to express her thoughts clearly. What did he assume about her intentions?

From Ann’s preliminary explanation, we know she wanted to get to know Loomis better as a possible lifetime partner and perhaps also determine if he liked her. These were likely the real intentions behind Ann’s question. Ann does not seem to realize that her explanation, “I was interested” (160), was dishonest, pretending just idle curiosity. It would be reasonable for Loomis to assume Ann’s question suggested the romantic interest she really had. So it seems he was simply trying to get Ann to express her actual hopes about their relationship openly.

Given Ann’s biased judgments about Loomis at the chapter’s end (see 3.11 above), her fear probably influences her descriptions of Loomis's behavior--e.g., when she claims he “grabbed” her hand, held it “hard,” and “jerked” her toward him (159). She also says, “when I tried to pull away he just tightened his grip. There was nothing gentle about the way he held my hand, and no expression at all in his face” (159). In fact, these descriptions only show he held Ann’s hand firmly and had a serious expression--appropriate for discussing their relationship seriously.

Ann says she then lost balance and accidentally struck Loomis in the face: “quite instinctively I threw my right hand up…to catch myself” (160). It is false to say “it’s unclear whether this is an instinctive defensive reaction.” Ann states clearly that she hit him purely by accident.

Loomis let go right away when Ann slapped him, and she then jumped away: “In that moment he pulled back and relaxed his grip. I snatched my hand away and sprang back” (160). If Loomis had really been trying to control Ann using superior strength, would he quickly loosen his grip when she showed any resistance? His behavior suggests he was surprised and hurt by Ann’s actions, not angry. Speaking very quietly, he responded, “You should not have done that” (160). Then, as she left the porch after apologizing, he reminded her, “You held my hand once before” (160).

It is also false to say Loomis “threatens her.” Loomis probably only meant it was wrong for Ann to strike him, which is true. Simply asking Ann to talk openly did not merit such a response. When Loomis then reminded her of holding his hand before, he apparently meant it seemed strange for her to act uncomfortable with him. He clearly believes she showed feelings for him when he was sick, and now she seems strangely standoffish. Loomis seems confused and perhaps hurt by an apparent change in Ann’s feelings towards him.

Also, Loomis's behavior here seems similar to his response at their last meeting when Ann blames him for killing Edward and declares she is leaving the valley. As soon as she accuses him of murder, Loomis backs off and becomes defensive, saying in apparent fear and confusion, “It’s wrong” (247). These are perhaps the two times they come closest to communicating openly with each other. In both cases, when Loomis gets a glimpse of Ann’s fear of him, he backs away and seems confused--apparently because she misunderstands him.

Ann’s biased and revisionist interpretation

Ann makes two false claims about “the hand-holding” incident and the earlier time they held hands.

First, she writes of the earlier handholding, “I was simply trying to let him know that I was still there” (161), suggesting she had no special feeling for Loomis--only the charitable concern of a nurse caring for a patient. In fact, Ann’s earlier descriptions show she was desperately worried Loomis would die because he seemed the only man who could be her companion.

When his sickness worsened, Ann wanted to share her hope of marrying: “I could not bring myself to tell him what I really wished. How could I tell him about the apple tree, about what I had thought that morning…?” (101). On June 5, after finding bullet holes in the safe-suit, she described the worst night of Loomis’s illness (when she held his hand), saying, “I felt so frightened I thought my own heart was going to stop” (121), and “I was so worried I could not think clearly” (122). Also, as quoted above, Ann wrote that it was terrible to think of Loomis as a killer “because he is the only other human being I am ever likely to know” (126). A few days later, when Loomis’s first words were to say he heard Ann play piano, she wrote, “I wanted to hug him” (137).

Ann clearly cared greatly about Loomis’s survival because of hoping he could be a companion. So why does she deny her actual feelings for him by pretending she just held his hand like a nurse? If she admits showing any personal attachment to Loomis as a would-be companion, then it would be reasonable for him to assume she had such feelings; and then his handholding should be acceptable to her. But because Ann now fears him and interprets his handholding as threatening, she cannot accept he had any right to be even this familiar with her.

Ann’s second false claim is that she knows Loomis’s handholding was possessive and controlling:

“What he had done was not the same at all. There is a telepathy that goes with such things. When he was holding my hand, I could tell that he was taking charge, or possession…He was trying to control me, just as he had, in his way, controlled the planting, the use of the gasoline, the tractor, and even my going to church. And, of course, the suit, and, in the end, Edward” (161-62).

In fact, Ann is not telepathic, and she cannot know Loomis’s actual feelings or intentions unless she talks with him honestly--which she never does. Ann’s fear leads her to misinterpret Loomis’s holding her hand the same way she does all of his other behavior that she lists here reductively--careless of facts and the limitations of her own biased viewpoint (see 3.11 above). --Seoulseeker (talk) 05:04, 12 October 2012 (UTC)

Why Loomis doesn't kill Ann at the end

“At the end of the book, it sounds like what stops Loomis from killing Ann is her pointing out that if Loomis kills her like he killed Edward, he will again be alone in the world, at which point his voice breaks; this is a potent disincentive.”

At their last meeting, what changes Loomis’s behavior is NOT fear of being alone but a new understanding of Ann’s thinking and behavior. This is the first time Ann reveals knowing that Loomis killed Edward, and her accusation implies he committed murder.

Loomis answers her, “No…you don’t know that” (246). Then, turning away and trembling, he says quietly, “He tried to steal the suit…the way you’re stealing it now” (247).

As is shown by descriptions of Loomis’s nightmares, remembering Edward is very distressing for Loomis, often leaving him on the verge of tears. Describing the time he shot at an upstairs window, Ann writes, “His face suddenly looked incredibly distressed and twisted up, as if he might cry” (107). After the nightmare when Loomis remembered shooting Edward, Ann says, “He gave a desperate groan,…and then a series of strangling noises. I thought he must be trying to cry” (117). It is clear from these descriptions that Loomis was terrified of Edward and also deeply upset by the act of shooting him—probably guilt-ridden.

So it is likely Ann’s mere mention of the incident would be upsetting for Loomis; but, far worse, she speaks accusingly, blaming him for actions that already lie heavily on his conscience. He does not even speak strongly in his own defense but turns away, trembles, and becomes dispirited.

Yet it is wholly unjust for Ann to blame Loomis for killing Edward, since he only acted in self-defense and he faced a more direct threat to his life than Ann ever faced from Loomis. Her blame of him contrasts greatly with his forgiveness when she regretted not warning him about the poisoned stream. Loomis generously took all the responsibility for his actions without blaming her at all--even though her inaction put him in danger (50, 101-2). On the other hand, Ann hypocritically passes the harshest judgment on Loomis for actions no more selfish than her own—and even though she was not personally threatened.

In addition, the revelation that Ann thinks him a murderer would also help Loomis greatly to understand Ann's behavior with him since the beginning of his recovery. Only now can he understand she is afraid of him and know why. This, too, explains why he quickly loses his anger at being deceived and robbed when her message offered hope of trust between them.

It is ridiculous to think that Loomis only refrains from shooting Ann because she warns he will then be truly alone--as if he only thinks of this then! He is well aware of the fact they are the last two people. He loses all his aggression and turns away the moment Ann accuses him of killing Edward, not when she later says, “If you shoot me, you will really be alone” (247). By that point in their discussion, Loomis is not threatening at all but “frightened and bewildered.” In the end he is a pitiable figure, protesting weakly on the verge of tears, “It’s wrong,” then pleading, “Don’t go…don’t leave me. Don’t leave me here alone” (247).

Loomis probably never meant to kill or enslave Ann. He just assumed correctly they should be together for their mutual benefit and to give their species a chance of continuing, on top of which he is understandably desperate for companionship—as Ann is, too, when manic fears don’t get in the way. However, it appears his desperate loneliness and view of Ann’s behavior as irrational drove him to resort to extreme methods to force her out of hiding, in doing which he became equally irrational. By hiding her feelings and acting in extreme ways, Ann provoked extreme behavior in Loomis also—as she herself realized too late (218). (See 3.2 above) — Preceding unsigned comment added by Seoulseeker (talkcontribs) 20:07, 12 October 2012 (UTC)

Unreasonable criticisms and expectations of Loomis

“It's true that demarcating boundaries for work and food…is not a full negotiation in a give-and-take sense, since Loomis does not offer a different but also acceptable solution. He could have done this by, for instance, allowing her to have Faro, or by arranging a way for her to inhabit a building locked against him until trust was rebuilt. These options would have been far more sane than Loomis's decisions in the book were.”

It is Ann’s fault, not Loomis’s, that there is no negotiation—just as it is her fault every time she chooses not to explain her thoughts or ask his viewpoint openly. Negotiation is impossible because Ann assumes her understanding of Loomis is right and makes absolute demands, permitting no discussion and giving him no chance to explain his actions. Loomis cannot offer an alternative because Ann is unwilling to listen.

Moreover, common sense and evidence of Loomis’s behavior suggest that Ann greatly misunderstands him and is wrong to fear him. In fact, if she were honest and trusting with him, staying with Loomis would be best for their mutual happiness and survival.

Suggesting that Loomis could have offered to let Ann have Faro and live in a locked building is absurd. Ann fears Loomis is a cruel rapist and murderer who can never be trusted, so a locked building would seem no barrier to him. She only feels safe at all if he doesn’t know where she is. For this reason, she fears Faro’s tracking ability and finally decides to kill the dog so she can hide safely. After Ann runs away and refuses any friendship, Loomis probably cannot make any offer acceptable to Ann except to leave the valley—because her fear prevents her from trusting him at all or negotiating with him.

Of course Loomis’s resort to force to make Ann return is irrational. However, he acts this way because of circumstances, not just because of his own character and desires. After 2 weeks of Ann's inflexible, close-minded refusal of any trust or friendship, Loomis reacts to extreme and irrational behavior by taking extreme measures in turn. Also, it should be remembered he has lived alone for months believing himself the last surviving human while experiencing more of the last war's horrors than Ann has seen. If Ann longs for human companionship after a year alone in a protected valley, Loomis probably feels that need even more desperately. His extreme behavior is thus an understandable reaction to the last woman's absolute refusal of companionship--despite apparently sharing the hope that they can be a couple. Ann's behavior must seem to him insane, endangering what they both hope for most and what should be most important for them.

Also, if we are to speak of what characters “should have” done, then much more can be said about Ann. For example, she should not have been so afraid of a stranger approaching her valley. She should not have let him swim in a dead stream and possibly die just because of an unfounded and selfish fear he might be a threat. She should have followed her instinct of running to him (when he first called out) and later shared her hope to marry him. She should have discussed their relationship openly. When she heard his nightmares, she should have sympathized with Loomis and given him a chance to explain himself--instead of judging him self-righteously. She should have recognized he had a right to share the last valley and his concerns about farming were just sensible--instead of viewing the valley as her own property and fearing an attempt to take control. When Loomis spoke of starting a colony, asked why Ann was interested in his love life, and then came to her room at night, she should have told him honestly how she felt--instead of staying silent, assuming what she wished, and letting him make wrong assumptions about her (then condemning him for it).

It is unreasonable to be critical only of Loomis and assume that all Ann’s judgments about him are right--despite her poor reasoning skills, very limited understanding, and obvious bias throughout the story. --Seoulseeker (talk) 21:04, 12 October 2012 (UTC)

Inaccurate & seemingly biased revisions (by 140.180.246.15)

Ann never tries to “negotiate” with Loomis

“Deciding to try to negotiate once again in hopes of mutual survival and of learning his intentions, Ann concludes that she might be aggravating his behavior by denying companionship…”

  1. Ann wishes to learn Loomis’s intentions, not negotiate. Unsure whether he controls things due to long-term planning or is trying to force her return, she writes, “I had to find out, fearful as I was of the answer” (219).
  2. This is the FIRST time Ann tries to learn Loomis’s intentions by asking him directly. She never tries to “negotiate” for mutual survival, since a negotiation involves two equal parties reaching an agreement. When Ann first returns to the house, she views herself as arranging a “compromise” (183), but she actually gives Loomis an ultimatum that he accepts because he has “no choice” (190). There is no actual negotiation or compromise because Ann refuses to discuss matters with him.

Ann considers she may be causing Loomis’s behavior, not “aggravating” it

Ann states, “perhaps, in a way, these new things he had done were my own fault. It seemed that the more I stayed away from him the more determined he was that I come back” (218). The distinction is important because she realizes she could be responsible for provoking his extreme behavior.

Ann’s conviction there is another valley is based on believing dreams

“After she recovers, hoping there are humans somewhere else, maybe even children to teach, feeling that Loomis is insane, facing winter, and unwilling to be enslaved, Ann plans to steal the safe-suit…”

Ann does not have a reasonable hope there are other survivors and “maybe even children to teach.” Rather, she has feverish dreams about another valley with children waiting for her, and she convinces herself that the dreams are true:

“For several days after I was shot, I was aware of very little. I think I had a fever….It was during those days of sleeping that a dream began, a dream I have had many times since….Coming night after night, it began to dominate my thoughts, so that first I hoped and now I believe in what it seems to tell: there is another place where I can live. I am needed there. There is a schoolroom lined with books, and children sitting at the desks” (226-28).

It is not rational either to believe in dreams this way or to leave the last known habitable valley because of such dreams. Hence the irony when she feels sure at this time that Loomis is insane (228).

The threat of being enslaved is Ann’s fear, not a fact

Ann’s fear of being enslaved is only her questionable viewpoint of what Loomis intends. He is probably concerned about her survival through the winter if she persists in her “stupidity” of hiding in the hills (205), since she is the last companion he can have and he believes only they can save humanity from extinction.

Faro’s death is planned by Ann, not accidental

“…but Ann escapes by a path over the radioactive creek and doubles back down the other side, knowing that Loomis will not touch the water…. The dog then swims across Burden Creek to reach Ann and unexpectedly dies of radiation sickness the next day - Ann had meant to get Faro away from Loomis so her dog could no longer be used to track her,…”

The text makes clear that Ann set a trap for the specific purpose of killing Faro:

After Loomis tracked her to the cave and burnt her things, Ann writes: “The worst part of it was that I really did decide to kill Faro….It makes me feel as much a murderer as Mr. Loomis” (225).

When Loomis pursued Ann to the creek, where she hid on the other side behind a rock, everything happened according to her plan. She fired her rifle over Loomis’s head to surprise him, knowing he was unaware she had another gun (234). He then released Faro in his panic, and the dog followed Ann’s scent across the contaminated creek, as Ann knew Faro would. She notes matter-of-factly that she “expected” he would be sick for several days like Loomis had been, but he died by nightfall. Ann was not surprised or shocked, and in the next entry she states explicitly, “In setting the trap for Faro, I had exposed an important secret: I had a gun and bullets” (237).

It is because she kills Faro intentionally that Ann thinks she is as much a murderer as Loomis (225). Ironically, however, her act is more truly murder in the sense that she killed with premeditation, not under duress and in self-defense. Of course the term "murder" only legally applies to humans, and people generally value humans above other animals. What's important is that Ann's comparison of herself with Loomis points to the difference between them in terms of intention. Loomis did not kill "with malice aforethought," so it is wrong for Ann to think of him as a murderer at all.

In addition, for those who know the companionship, unconditional affection, and loyalty that dogs offer, Ann's choice to kill Faro is a terrible betrayal. Ann herself is aware of Faro's importance as a companion when she first fears Loomis' befriending the dog and admits, "I suppose it seems wrong to be afraid of that" (36). Considering Loomis's probable loneliness, it is wrong to deny him companionship with Faro. Symbolically, Ann's "murder" of the last dog represents a selfish disregard for life that directly contrasts with the custodial attitude she earlier showed while saving a baby crow, helping that species to survive (124-25). Seoulseeker (talk) 16:31, 7 October 2012 (UTC)

Furthermore, killing Faro is entirely unnecessary and certainly not justifiable as "self-defense."

  1. Ann could have simply caught the dog and kept him with her.
  2. Loomis's panic when Ann fired suggests that the knowledge she is armed might be enough to keep him away.
  3. Ann plans to leave the valley anyway, so killing Faro denies Loomis even the dog as a companion when she is gone.
  4. Ann's fear of Loomis is actually paranoid, and she should just talk openly with him about their relationship.--Seoulseeker (talk) 21:45, 18 October 2012 (UTC)

Ann does not double back on the other side of the creek

In fact, Ann doubles back from the hollow tree after getting her rifle, then crosses the stream at a spot with flat stones. This is probably so that Faro will follow her scent over the stream there (233).

Ann is not forced to act but makes all her choices freely

Ann believes Loomis forces her to take drastic measures (231), so she claims at the end, “I had no choice” (247). She thinks this way throughout the story, starting with her choices to hide from an approaching stranger and not warn him about a dead stream. However, the irony is that all Ann’s actions are freely chosen, so her belief she has no choice simply avoids responsibility for her behavior and its consequences.

Ann assumes she has no choice because of believing fears about Loomis, which are never shown valid and seem unreasonable when his behavior is examined. Her real options probably include starting a mutually supportive, beneficial, and happy relationship with Loomis, which could soon lead to having her own family. The chief obstacles to this are Ann’s egocentricity and paranoia, not Loomis’s bad character.

The choices most important to consider are the ones explicitly referenced by Ann. In every case, she has freedom to make different meaningful choices, such as by being more optimistic, trusting, and honest. For example, she chooses:

  • to dig up the garden and hide in the cave when a stranger approached the valley (10-11, 19, 20)
  • to restrain the urge to run to him when he called out (23)
  • to let the newcomer swim in a contaminated stream and possibly die (26)
  • to conceal her hope to marry and have children (81, 101)
  • to suppress her joy when he recovered from sickness (137-39)
  • to hide her feelings about their relationship when he spoke of starting a colony (152)
  • to hide what she knows about his past from listening to his nightmares (128, 157)
  • to lie about her intentions in asking if he was married before (159-61)
  • not to tell Loomis her feelings when he came to her room at night (175)
  • to run away and live impractically in the wild, relying on limited store supplies
  • to deny Loomis any companionship (183)
  • to kill Faro by leading him to swim in the dead stream, again using the poisoned stream to protect herself (225, 237)
  • to trick Loomis by offering companionship and then stealing his safe-suit (226)
  • to believe her wishful dreams about another valley with children waiting for her to teach them (227-28)
  • to leave the last known habitable place and all that she has hoped for (236)

Ann’s self-justifications are certainly weak, and she does not fear Loomis may be armed

“Her claims that she is unsure about the stream and hiding is the only way to ensure her own safety from a potentially armed and physically stronger stranger are her primary justifications.”

  1. Ann is only unsure about the exact reason the stream is dead, not about the fact it is dead; yet she uses this irrelevant doubt to justify letting a stranger possibly suffer fatal poisoning (26, 31)! This is called culpable inaction.
  2. Hiding from the stranger does not “ensure her own safety,” since she will have to face him sooner or later. He is not likely to leave the last habitable place in the world!
  3. Ann never actually fears the possibility that the stranger will be armed--perhaps because she always carries her own rifle with her and she's "a good shot" with it (15).
  4. Ann is actually more of a threat than the stranger. Loomis is unarmed when he enters the valley whereas Ann watches him from hiding with a rifle at her side (21). Loomis only gets out a rifle and puts it on his wagon when no one answers his call (24). Walking down the road in the open and calling out two more times, Loomis is entirely at the mercy of Ann as she hides in the woods with her gun.
  5. After guilelessly calling out 3 times while walking a mile down the open road, it is not likely Loomis is trying to ambush anyone when he looks in the windows of the house from a distance (24). He is probably just cautious in exactly the same way Ann is when she later approaches his tent (45-46).
  6. Allowing the last man to die from radiation exposure would certainly ensure Ann’s safety from a potential tyrant, but it would be highly immoral (i.e., culpable inaction), she would be doomed to living alone, and the human race would probably end.
  7. The only way Ann can find out about a stranger’s character is to talk with him and get to know him.

Ann's main fear is that the stranger could be a cruel tyrant who will enslave her, which is extreme and can reasonably be described as paranoid.

Ann has irrational fears from the outset

“Upon learning Loomis killed a man and realizing that he is hiding his physical recovery from her, this fear immediately returns and she starts interpreting his attempts to take control and his impatience with her as a sign he is domineering.”

This revision deletes the fact that Ann fears meeting a cruel murderer as well as being enslaved, and it deletes the description of these fears as “irrational.”

The fact that Ann’s fears exist before she meets Loomis shows Ann is capable of extreme fear without reasonable cause. Upon seeing columns of smoke nearing, she anticipates the worst imaginable situation. In fact, it is far more likely the stranger will be an ordinary person longing for human companionship rather than a homicidal maniac looking for someone to enslave (36). Hiding in fear and watching from a distance is also irrational because facing the stranger is inevitable and she cannot know his character until they spend time together. Above all, perhaps, she has lived alone for a year believing herself the last survivor of nuclear war and longing for a companion, and this person could be both her last chance of companionship as well as the last hope for the human race to continue.

Fear of a man's strength; independence versus companionship

On the second day of watching Loomis, Ann writes, “This man is a stranger, and bigger and stronger than I am…But if he is not [kind]…I will be a slave for the rest of my life” (36). At this point, Loomis has already bathed in the dead stream because Ann chose not to warn him, illustrating his need for her help despite his supposedly greater strength. As it says in Ecclesiastes, one of Ann's favorite Bible texts (37), "but what of the person with no one to help him up when he falls?" (Eccles. 4:10).

Ann only dares to face Loomis when he sickens and she fears the last man might die (45). She loses her fear of him because of (1) her greater fear of being alone forever and (2) his weakened condition. When his sickness worsens and he becomes even weaker, Ann feels stronger: “I felt calm—almost as if I were the older one. It was as if when he got weaker, I got stronger” (100). Ann appears most comfortable with Loomis when he is sick and weak, since there can be no physical threat. Conversely, when he is regaining strength, Ann’s fear returns and grows. After the hand-holding incident, she fears unreasonably that he is trying to take control, and writes, “For that reason his walking back to the bed without help, which should have been something to celebrate, instead makes me uneasy” (162). In fact, since Ann has no real cause for fear (see 3.11 below), Loomis’s increasing strength should only make her happy. But Ann already has a paranoid fear of a man using his strength to enslave her.

This fear prevents her from thinking of Loomis as a companion as she should. Instead, she keeps thinking of herself as completely independent and viewing his references to their life together as a threat to her freedom. This mistake in her thinking may also be suggested by a passage in Ecclesiastes:

“And something else futile I observe under the sun: a person is quite alone—no child, no brother…For whom, then, do I work so hard…? Better two than one alone, since thus their work is really rewarding. If one should fall, the other helps him up; but what of the person with no one to help him up when he falls? Again: if two sleep together they keep warm, but how can anyone keep warm alone? Where one alone would be overcome, two will put up resistance; and a threefold cord is not quickly broken” (Eccles. 4:7-12).

Loomis does not hide his recovery

Ann suspects this, but it is an unreasonable suspicion. When Loomis first tries to walk and falls down, Ann stands in the doorway and watches in amusement as he struggles painfully to pull himself up, then falls again. She thinks he looks like a comedian acting drunk. Only after he falls twice does Ann offer to help, and then he tells her in annoyance, “No…Just don’t stand and watch” (145).

About a week later, Ann thinks Loomis is “secretive” about his efforts to walk again and guesses, “Probably because he felt foolish when I saw him after he fell” (146). But when she hears the thud of his feet hitting the floor and then slow footsteps a second time, she feels guilty of eavesdropping and says with pretended uncertainty, “I thought I heard you walking” (147). He is busy working on designs for a generator and just replies without expression, “It’s something I have to do” (147).

Considering Ann’s attitude as she watched Loomis, it is likely he asked her not to watch him because she seemed amused by his efforts. The loud noise of his movements and his indifference when Ann commented on his progress suggest that Loomis makes no attempt to hide his efforts. His reply that he is merely doing what he must to regain his strength is far more credible than her suspicions.

Earlier on the evening Loomis visits Ann's room, she sees him at a distance walking to the wagon, and she notes twice, "He definitely did not have the cane" (173-74). Despite Ann’s concern, this shows only that Loomis is getting better, not that he is hiding his recovery. He told her the night before that he would soon be able to help with farm work (172). Also, even after Ann runs away, she believes Loomis is still weak and writes, “I did not think he could walk far enough to get his own [supplies], not yet” (183).Seoulseeker (talk) 22:19, 6 October 2012 (UTC)

Ann is more secretive than Loomis

It is ironic that Ann is suspicious of Loomis being secretive while she herself is eavesdropping and pretending uncertainty about his actions. Ann is certainly secretive with Loomis. She repeatedly hides from him feelings or concerns that are important to their relationship. For example, she hides:

  • her fear of being controlled (36);
  • her desire for companionship and family (23, 36, 81);
  • romantic feelings (81);
  • hopes for their future together and to save the human race (81, 96, 101);
  • the fear that he would die, leaving her alone (118-20, 121-23, 126);
  • her joy when he recovers and says her presence saved him (137-39);
  • her knowledge that he killed Edward (128, 157);
  • her concern that he acted wrongly and doubts about his character (126-27);
  • her discomfort with his presumed attitude about her church-going and the valley (141-43, 162);
  • exactly how she thinks of their relationship though believing they are the last human survivors and knowing Loomis expects them to start a colony together (153).

She hides her thoughts about their relationship even when he asks directly what her intentions are in inquiring if he was ever married (159-60).

Loomis doesn't try to take control; Ann is more possessive

The editor adds “his attempts to take control” as if this were a fact rather than Ann’s interpretation (162). Ann’s descriptions of Loomis’s actual behavior show only impatience with Ann, which in every case is understandable.

The text shows that Ann is actually more possessive of the valley than Loomis. Ann starts to think Loomis is becoming possessive of the valley merely because he is concerned about her delay in planting corn during his sickness. After he scolds her, she writes, “And so he considered the valley as much his as mine. I would have to get used to it” (143). Loomis does not speak of the valley as his alone but as theirs to manage together. It is reasonable for him to assume a right to live in the last habitable place in the world. It is not Loomis but Ann who possessively assumes ownership of the whole valley, which is why she feels uncomfortable:

“I had been regarding the field, the tractor—the valley—and the planting and garden, all as things of mine, to do or to worry about. But now he had begun thinking about them as his, too” (143).

--Seoulseeker (talk) 18:44, 23 September 2012 (UTC)

Why Ann's fear of Loomis taking control is unjustified

Ann expresses this fear after the hand-holding incident:

"When he was holding my hand, I could tell that he was taking charge, or possession...He was trying to control me, just as he had, in his way, controlled the planting, the use of the gasoline, the tractor, and even my going to church. And, of course, the suit, and, in the end, Edward" (162).

However, in every case Ann thinks of here, she appears to misinterpret Loomis's behavior and think unjustly of him.

  1. His concerns about the planting are practical, and Ann agrees with him (140-42, 151-53, 154-55).
  2. Concerning the gas and the tractor, it is his ingenuity that enables them to access gas and use the tractor at all (70-71, 93). Ann forgets this. Further, he never controls use of these things but simply cautions her sensibly of the need to conserve fuel and breed more cattle to use for plowing in the future (152-53). He shows necessary concern for their mutual long-term survival.
  3. Loomis never blames Ann for church-going in itself or tries to stop her from doing it; he even suggests good-naturedly, "When you go to your church, if you want something to pray for, pray for that bull calf" (152). When he is annoyed one time about her going to church, it is only because she claims she could not leave him alone to plant corn though she did so to pray in church (142). His point is simply that if she could leave him to go to church, she should have done so for the more practical purpose of planting. But Ann misunderstands him completely, thinking, "He had sounded annoyed and did not understand why I had gone to church" (143).
  4. As for the safe-suit and Edward, it is biased and unjust to view his actions as "controlling" when Loomis's dreams clearly show that he killed Edward in desperation to save his own life and so the suit could be used to look for other survivors (116-17). As Ann notes when she is reasonable, Loomis acted in self-defense (126-27).
  5. Loomis is also not tyrannically "controlling" when he refuses to let Ann use the suit to leave the valley to get novels from a town library; her suggestion is, as he says, "too foolish to consider" (150), and Ann admits to herself reluctantly, "I can see that it is not too practical" (151).

If we do not read critically, questioning Ann's views and reviewing earlier parts of the text, it is easy to be misled by her fearful interpretations of Loomis's behavior.

False dilemma: Ann’s decision to leave rather than be a slave

“In the end, wanting desperately to escape Loomis after the gunshot wound in her ankle becomes infected, Ann has feverish dreams that children are waiting for her in another valley.”

  1. The phrase “even believes” in reference to Ann’s dreams was deleted, hiding the fact Ann irrationally bases her judgments on dreams. This change corresponds with deletion of information about Ann’s dream in the summary. The apparent purpose is to make Ann's decision to leave the last known habitable valley and the last known man appear more reasonable.
  2. The reference to the gunshot wound is irrelevant here because Ann does not mention it at this point. The fact of the wound is included in the summary. Loomis is trying to wound Ann, not to kill her. He is using extreme methods, but his purpose is clearly to force her out of hiding in the wilderness, which is impractical for their mutual survival and that of the human race. --Seoulseeker (talk) 19:01, 23 September 2012 (UTC)

“After her fever improves, she concludes that it's unlikely, but focuses on it as her best hope for the future. She does not consider enslavement by Loomis to be an acceptable option, even if it would ensure her survival, so decides to set out in hopes of finding other humans.”

  1. The first sentence of the revision is wholly false, attempting again to make Ann appear more rational by concealing that she decides to leave the valley because of believing dreams (see 3.3 above). A sentence questioning Ann's sanity was deleted from the character analysis: “By this point, it is ironic that she thinks Loomis is the insane one of them.”
  2. It is true Ann refuses to be enslaved, but there is no evidence Loomis actually intends this. The evidence shows only that he wishes them to live together and start a colony. Therefore, it is a false dilemma to believe she must choose between enslavement and running away.

Loomis’s willingness to meet with Ann unarmed and his choice not to shoot her as she leaves suggest he is not a tyrant but a rational man trying to make a life with the last woman, who fears him without real reason. Ann initially runs away because Loomis tries to get in bed with her at a point when they both know the need for them to be a couple and they have spoken of it. Ann’s hiding in the hills and refusal of any relationship is an extreme overreaction, and it jeopardizes not only their mutual survival but that of humanity.

After two weeks of her impractical and mutually destructive behavior, Loomis starts resorting to extreme and irrational measures of his own by denying store supplies and trying to wound her to force her back. At this point, even Ann realizes briefly that her own behavior might be causing him to act in desperation; but then he shoots at her and she reverts to her fear that he is just crazy.

Ann's decision to leave the last known habitable place based on dreams seems the most insane act of all. --Seoulseeker (talk) 19:30, 23 September 2012 (UTC)

Re: Rape

I'm not interested in getting in the middle of an edit war here, but can I just say that the plot and character summary's repeated attempts to justify Loomis's attempt to rape Ann (ie calling it a logical necessity) is really creepy. Plot summaries should describe the events of the story, nothing more and nothing less. I think that everyone involved in this article needs to read the policy Wikipedia: Original Research and Wikipedia:How to write a plot summary before editing any further. Neither of these policies are being applied well to this article. Euchrid (talk) 02:15, 20 November 2012 (UTC)

More misconstrual and hyperbole

The plot and character summaries of course DO NOT attempt to justify rape (see above). Thinking so involves a particular interpretation of the story that accepts the narrator's view of Loomis as a fact. You are criticizing the summary for lacking objectivity while expecting it to present a specific interpretation. For a story with a first-person narrator, describing ONLY "the events" means that facts should be clearly distinguished from the narrator's opinions. Further, to avoid narrative bias and distortion, facts of the story should be presented objectively--that is, including any details that raise doubts about the narrator's reliability (e.g., selfish or immoral acts, hypocrisy, inconsistent claims, & irrational beliefs). These are facts, not interpretations. It is up to the reader to judge their significance. It is not original research to state verifiable facts about the story. Also, it is either careless or a willful misreading of the article to say it describes rape as a "logical necessity." That phrase in the section about Loomis's character simply refers to the fact he and Ann must sleep together at some point if they wish to have a family and continue the human race--wishes that they both express. It is a rather obvious point and does not seem "creepy" at all--if one doesn't make unreasonable assumptions about the characters.Seoulseeker (talk) 19:25, 24 November 2012 (UTC)