The respectful prostitute essay

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  • Publicado : 23 de noviembre de 2011
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Daniel Luévano Flores
Teacher: Genoveva Chavez

The Respectful Prostitute

The story starts taking part in the prostitute’s flat with a black guy knocking the door and whispering, he told her totestify in favor of him. At the beginning, me as a reader, couldn’t understand the situation, why the heck is a black guy whispering to a prostitute to testify in favor of him? Then the completeexplanation comes, just after a discussion between Fred and the prostitute because of how much he was going to pay her, but it all came because Fred was going to try to bribe the prostitute to testifyagainst the black guy. There was a big problem behind this fact, there was a black guy who was killed by a white guy, this white guy (Thomas I think) was the nephew of the senator of the state, so, howwas going to be the reputation of the senator if the media discovers that his nephew killed someone?!

Between all the discussion of the prostitute and Fred, Jean Paul Sartre points out the Americanidealism, it’s so hard when Fred said his cousin didn’t killed a person, he killed a black guy. You can see how Fred sees the black people not as human but as semi-thinkers creatures that are onlyfucking up his white world.
Here we can see the hard idealism, as a virus, corrupting every “white” mind and convincing them that the black raze is a non-pure ethnic error that is corrupting theglorious America.

It’s impressive how even the senator thought the same about the black people, that’s why we have the title that Sartre used, “The Respectful Prostitute”. A little bit ironic, I think,why? Because on one hand we have a prostitute that sells her body for money, his dignity, but on the other hand we have the respectful citizen that is trying to treat everyone as the same, withequality.
It’s weird how Sartre finishes his play, just with Fred taking the prostitute to one hone he was going to give her, I think he was obsessed with her, I think Sartre made those characters like...
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