1) Paul is portrayed as a problem child from the beginning, acting rudely towards authority figures and isolating himself from others. However, his behavior may indicate an underlying psychological issue rather than him simply being a "bad kid." 2) Paul desperately wants an escape from his unhappy life through romanticism and the theater. However, the teachers at his school fail to understand him and exacerbate the problem, while his father provides no emotional support or role model. 3) Alone and unable to find fulfillment, Paul steals money and checks into a hotel, briefly escaping his unhappy reality. But when his theft is discovered, he commits suicide, ending his life in keeping with his romantic ideals. The story

1. Calen Nakash
Steve Krzywda
03/01/15
ENGL 2407-003
In Defense of Paul
“Paul's Case” begs to be read twice. Willa Cather paints Paul as a problem child from the first
page, a dramatic boy who is rude to authority. He judges people, steals and isolates readers. But is
Paul's romanticism and blunt ego the sign of a bad kid, or does it speak to a pathological issue and an
inability of society to connect with him? If readers condemn Paul, they must look past three major
factors: society's treatment of problem children, Paul's emotional state and his age.
Shakespeare once said that all the world's a stage, and Paul desperately wants another role.
Early on, Paul is being reprimanded by his teachers after a two-week suspension from high school.
There is nothing professional in the air, and their “baptism of fire” shows that each one has made Paul's
actions personal. By the end, they are “humiliated” to have felt so “vindictive” toward the boy, and
rightfully so! Paul is a child, and whatever his attitude, their anger only exacerbates his problem with
authority. Instead of realizing that Paul is performing for them to get what he wants, the Principal falls
for his lies and allows him to re-enter school. Paul bows, leaving, and the drawing teacher voices their
uneasiness by stating that he feels Paul's smile is “sort of haunted.” Paul appears like an old man as he
sleeps in class, with a “nervous tension that draws his lips back from his teeth” (Charters 239). The
teachers make no visible effort to understand the cause, displaying an incompetence with problem
children that ultimately makes things worse. Paul's mother died when he was little, and his father
makes no attempt to understand why he chooses to work at Carnegie Hall as an usher. With no suitable
role model, Paul is left to fend with his unbalanced world view and disturbed emotional state on his
own.
After successfully lying his way back into school, Paul runs to his job, whistling Faust and

2. looking behind him “wildly” to see if his teachers are there to catch his “light-heartedness” (239).
Cather's use of the word wildly is as important as his haunted grin—Paul is stretched thin from the first
page. The theater is Paul's drug, allowing him to cope with reality. Outside the theater, Paul experiences
both frustration at his life and the symptoms of withdrawal. In the second paragraph of the story, his
wide pupils are compared to the effects of belladonna, with “a glassy glitter” the drug does not produce
(238). While handing out tickets, he meets his teacher, and their egos clash. It's understandable for a
boy to have a high opinion of himself, but the faculty's hauteur to Paul's legitimate job shows that she
has learned nothing from her earlier, shameful anger. Readers may assume that Paul's love of the
theater speaks of a possible future, but the boy has no wishes to be an actor, and “has no mind for the
cash-boy stage,” indicating no desire to do the work necessary to keep this emotional high going (243).
In the entirety of Paul's case, no one sits him down to understand this. After leaving and experiencing
withdrawal, he tails the singer from the performance as she enters her hotel, the Schenley. His
emotional need to escape is so great he mentally follows her in before the rain snaps him back to
reality. Paul heads home, and there is a rather telling paragraph about his life: “His father in his night-
clothes at the top of the stairs” and “explanations that do not explain” shows Paul is intimidated by his
father. He decides to sleep in the basement, worried his dad will hear the noise and assume a burglar,
come in and shoot him. This is the only role model Paul has! The man only allows Paul to usher
because he “[feels] the boy ought to be earning a little,” and the next day, the man Paul is expected to
choose as a role model turns out to be a boring-looking youth with a ruddy complexion who marries the
first woman he sees—not exactly Paul's definition of romance! This is one of the reasons that to Paul,
“the natural almost always wears the guise of ugliness,” and his father is not competent enough to make
this connection (243-244). When Paul asks for money to study with a friend, he displays a remarkable
simplicity by both not catching the lie and asking if he “could not go to a boy who lived nearer” (244.)
Paul uses the money to go to the theater, leaves with the usual feeling of frustration, and acts up in
school as a result. They meet with Paul's father, and take Paul both out of school and his job.

3. One mistake readers may make while reading Paul's Case is forgetting Paul's age. In the end,
however, Paul is a child, and the deftness with which he lies shows at least some degree of intelligence.
Following his expulsion, Paul manages to steal his father's money, check himself into an expensive
hotel and blends in with the crowd for eight days—an astonishing feat! If readers get caught up in the
wrongness of all this, they forget the matter of Paul's delusions. The boy must escape from a reality
where he can relate to no one. “He never lied for pleasure,” and the release from the “necessity” of the
lying is a burden off of Paul (249). It is society's job to help troubled children, and Paul's actions show
that he is in need of desperate help. Eight days later, his theft makes the paper, and Paul knows that his
time is up. Fueled by wine given to him without anyone's asking for an ID and a romantic idea to end
his life in a blaze of glory, he jumps in front of a train, committing suicide.
In the end, Paul is a problem child, and it's clear the world has no time for him. Some children
do not have the strength to reach out for help on their own, and by the end, Paul feels he is destined to
die. The faculty of his high school can only speculate on why he does the things he does, and their
pride ultimately isolates the boy, forcing him into a corner. His father is cold and efficient, he has no
mother to speak of and no one teaches him empathy. A desperate need to rise above his station means
Paul is stretched thin from the first page. With only his romantic view of the world and no role model
to shape his mindset, Paul's Case could not have ended any other way.
This story is a cautionary tale, but while readers may assume it cautions against romantic
idealism, it is also a window into the issues of our own world. Had Paul had survived the story, his
behavior would have landed him in jail as he got older. Society's apathy towards prisoners show that it
doesn't stop at expecting problem children to conform—if someone doesn't follow the rules, people
want nothing to do with them!