How Does Going All The Way End?

Ever come across a book or something and felt the ceiling call your name? I felt that upon finishing Going All the Way. Sonny basically escapes from the crushing weight of Indiana in the end. But poor Gunner… His downfall is kinda subtle but very sad. He ends up marrying his manipulative Marty. Like his parents. Ugh. There’s so much symbolism in this book, but it’s pretty clear in this instance: Sonny takes the train; Gunner takes the wedding ring. Freedom vs. chains. It’s kind of obvious, but in a painful way. And I think Gunner knows he’s making a mistake, but he just can’t help himself. A particularly powerful line near the end is ‘He’d never get out now.’ That’s really stuck with me. The book doesn’t really take a stance on the two choices Sonny made to leave Indiana, but shows us two alternatives and leaves us to ponder their weight. Lent my copy to a friend and she just texted me at 2AM with ‘HOW COULD IT END LIKE THIS?!’ Yeah, that’s me too.

Going All the Way ends in much the same way one watches a slow-motion car crash: one cannot help but be sickened by what is occurring. Instead of relishing Sonny’s success at having left Charolette for good in New York, the reader can’t help but feel tainted by his guilt as well as his loss. And Gunner’s storyline in the novel takes a downward, woebegone turn after he marries Marty. (She is, essentially, everything that Gunner detests about his hometown’s better half.) Details are virtually all and Sonny packing up his typewriter and Gunner polishing up his wedding shoes for a pair of fine dress shoes to wear on his wedding day are two examples of Wakefield’s incredible insight into human nature and how it is the smallest of decisions which will define any given individual for the rest of his or her life. Re-reading the novel recently, I saw the seeds to these eventual outcomes are sown very early on: Gunner’s dad’s failure; Sonny’s mom’s oppressive, suffocating love. And the novel is left without closure – much as real life is.

There’s something extremely powerful about how the novel “Going All the Way” by Dan Wakefield ends. Sonny and Gunner, two young veterans from Indiana return to their small 1950s hometown and struggle to find their place within society and with each other. Throughout the novel the two characters grapple with their own personal fears and reservations about life. The ending is bittersweet as Wakefield provides his two main characters with a culmination of their journey. Sonny finally leaves behind the delusional world of his past and moves to New York to pursue his dream of becoming a writer. Meanwhile, Gunner is stuck in a similar cycle of life that Wakefield portrays throughout the novel. Although it is fulfilling to read about the way in which Sonny finally breaks free from his restrictive hometown, Gunner’s lack of progress is equally as painful. It is an extremely powerful ending and is left to linger for the reader much like the thick, humid air of the Midwest in the late summer months.

I read Going All the Way in college, and it remains a powerful exploration of the challenges of growing up and trying to make sense of a crazy world. A moving but unsentimental story about two young men in the 1950s, the novel's ending is unflashy but true. Sonny's journey by train to New York represents both hope and anxiety as he leaves behind a struggling small town and Gunner, a man he loves but cannot save. Gunner's story is a real gut punch, as it demonstrates that not every character gets to have a happy ending in a realistic novel. It's realism at its worst but at its best as well. I still remember Going All the Way long after I read it all those years ago, in part because it provides such an interesting and thought-provoking portrayal of the post-war generation and its disillusionment. The novel isn't about heroes; rather it's about two guys struggling to get through life.

It is that simple for Sonny, who buys a one-way ticket, while Gunner, the duplicitous, fascist, racist Kentuckian, trades his army uniform for a tuxedo as he becomes what he so despised all along – a settler. For years after I finished the book, I thought about Sonny and what he did and then wondered what happened to Gunner and his wife after the book ended. Wakefield never told us; he assumed we could feel our sadness from the clues he provided to us along the way.

In Wakefield, the quiet reality of the end of the novel is heartbreaking. Sonny leaves to pursue his writing in New York while Gunner is crushed by his terrible relationship and his stifling hometown. The contrast between the two men is what the novel is about, and often growth involves leaving people behind. Gunner’s wedding is a funeral; Sonny’s departure is hopeful but also lonely. There are no fireworks or closure in Wakefield. Life just moves on.