Frustration

"She was a child-unburdened-why wasn't she happy? The clear statement of her misery was an accusation. He wanted to break her neck-but tenderly. Guilt and impotence rose in a bilious duet. What could he do for her-ever? What give her? What say to her? What could a burned-out black man say to the hunched back of his eleven-year-old daughter?"

I think this excerpt from the novel effectively portrays the frustration that people (even her own father) feel when they encounter Pecola's meekness and lack of self-worth. It's interesting how one can feel simultaneously both pity and resentment just by looking at her and her "hunched shoulders", let alone watching her interact with others. Her own father is driven to fancifully entertaining the notion of killing his daughter because her sense of self is so incredibly skewed. The manner in which she is hunched over the sink again suggests that she lacks confidence, while exuding an overwhelming aura of utter sorrow. Mr. Breedlove feels a sense of failure and helplessness concerning his daughter, just as others have throughout the novel, but the cruel reality of the situation is that no matter how much someone desires to help Pecola, she is the one who is ultimately responsible for and capable of changing her own demeanor and outlook on life. It seems as though Mr. Breedlove has given up on his daughter, which is interesting in light of the heinous crime he commits just moments later.

So why did Mr. Breedlove rape his daughter? Was he just using her? Was Pecola's timidity just too revolting? Was it due to Mrs. Breedlove's absence in the home, both physically and emotionally?