Ghosts of Akaky's Past

I think it’s funny (not funny haha, but funny in a paradoxical sense) that only in death does Akaky affect society. Think about it: Akaky is virtually invisible throughout his lifetime, excluding a very brief hiccup of confidence that comes with his new overcoat. “Scraps of melon rinds and other such articles” fall from windows onto the rim of his hat because people don’t notice him walking below. At work, he avoids any ostentatious behavior, even allowing his co-workers to “strew bits of paper over his head, calling them snow.” Akaky makes a profession of copying documents, not really adding anything innovative to society. He doesn’t marry, he never has children. He walks through life leaving no marks to trace his footprints.

Akaky paradoxically lives more like a ghost in life than he does in death. I’ll look at what ghosts “should” be in a traditional sense to prove my point. Ghosts are supposed to be invisible, translucent at the very least. Ghosts are flighty, presumably unable to manifest themselves in a tangible way. Ghosts should not feel strong desires nor experience physical weakness coldness (because they’re dead). Ghosts are merely an image—a copy if you will—of what someone was in life. Akaky—following its traditional definition—is a ghost in life. That is, he’s nearly invisible to other living beings, he makes no tangible impact on society, he has no strong desires; he is basically just a copy of his father, for whom Akaky was named.

In a sense, Akaky isn’t really alive until he dies. It takes pneumonia and a burial to arouse something in him, something that makes him want to make an impact on society. Even though this impact is an intimidating rampage on anybody with a warm overcoat.