Stephen Crane, "Maggie: A Girl of the Streets"

           In Stephen Crane’s novella, the act of wandering becomes a critical anatomization of the condition of the poor. Near the conclusion of the text, Maggie roams the streets, seeking recognition, acknowledgement, among seas of strangers. When her ignorance incites conflict between herself and her family, brought to its peak by the sharp indifference of Pete himself, the scene distinctly shifts to the bleak image of a girl aimlessly walking through the streets of New York. The illustration provoked by the title—“a girl of the streets”—is re-imagined in the framing of poverty, a poorness defined not only by a lack of material wealth, but also of a negligence for the danger of class perception.

            In the act of wandering near the conclusion of the novella, the girl’s experience parallels her struggle with poverty. The crowd of people storming the streets, characterized by their interminable qualities and endless procession, though physically close to the girl, remains elusive. Their “atmosphere of pleasure and prosperity” (62) is distinct from her own demeanor; instead, she associates with the few “wet wanderers, in attitudes of chronic dejection” (62), who lack the same feeling of cohesion seen in the former group. These wanderers, the poor, are scattered, disconnected, disparate. She is, however, noticed through sneers, glares, and interested stares, though these observers fail to help her. As a nameless face, she is thrust into social scenarios in which she becomes a persona of prostitution—the “Mary” acquaintance of a businessman, the mistaken clever girl insinuating discussion with a man with a derby hat, the recipient of a drunken man’s raving rants claiming “’I ain’ ga no money’” (64), the rejected date of a saloon-goer—and, ultimately, a stranger. Such wandering is demonstrative of her poor condition, without a real home, any financial resources, or prospects of a future. In the “blackness of the final block” (64), a recognition that social mobility is unlikely, the wandering girl makes a closing observation, resonating with the plight of the poor: “the varied sounds of life, made joyous by distance and seeming unapproachableness, came faintly and died away to a silence” (65).