“Tennessee Williams’s most autobiographical play, accurate to the imaginative reality of his
experience even when it departs from facts in detail” (Parker 3) and that “No one who has
reviewed even the bare details of his biography can overlook the obvious similarities between
the record of his early life and the events described in The Glass Menagerie” (Presley 86); the
playwright’s official biographer also contends that “Tennessee Williams had still to prove that
this was not a writer’s single autobiographical (emphasis mine) success” (Leverich 585). It is
futile to dispute the resemblance between biographical facts and dramatic fiction in this play and
yet it is worth pointing out that a number of features of the play are not attested in reality and,
conversely, that well-established aspects of Williams’s early adulthood are not reflected in the
play. Mrs. Edwina Williams, the playwright’s mother, pointed out the many differences between
the Williamses and the Wingfields (149-150, 174-175), and Cornelius Williams, the father, is
recorded as having failed to discern any similarity between Amanda and Edwina and having
resented the accusation of abandoning a family from which, on the contrary, he felt he had been
psychologically excluded and ultimately physically exiled (Leverich 567); moreover, literary
models other than the members of the Williams family—D.H. Laurence’s characters in Sons and
Lovers or Hart Crane, as man and poet—can be discerned as in filigree through the texture of the
Wingfield saga (Debusscher 167-188). Therefore, without disregarding the personal,
documentary nature of the material but giving equal weight to the omissions, the discrepancies,
and the additions—the dramatic strategies—I suggest that The Glass Menagerie be termed
“autofictional,” i.e. the result of a conflation of real life and fantasy, the poetic (re)arrangement
of fact within fiction, the imaginative fictionalization of autobiography.
In crossing that space between life and letters, two characters, Mr. Wingfield and
Tom, have been reassembled in such a way as to keep from view a constituent trait of their
personality and conduct—alcoholism for one, homosexuality for the other—which nevertheless
conditions in fundamental ways the course of the action and their modes of behaviour as well as
those of the other characters. Williams seems to have had a problematic relationship with his
father, who called him a sissy and terrorized the boy and his sister, Rose. As long as he travelled
extensively as a shoe salesman and appeared only temporarily at irregular intervals in the
southern rectories of Reverend Dakin where Mrs. Edwina lived with her two children, his
influence within the family may have been limited. But with his promotion to an administrative
and sedentary job and with the subsequent move of the family to Saint Louis, his thundering
presence and drinking bouts became a cause of alarm for his wife and children. Leverich reports
(192-193) the incident in which Cornelius got involved in a quarrel with another of the
company’s salesmen who bit off a piece of Cornelius’s ear, making an already precarious
situation with Rose much worse and putting an end to any prospect of advancement and
promotion at the International Shoe Company: Cornelius was not just a hard drinker, as he liked
to think of himself, but in truth, clinically alcoholic. He was resorting to what were open secrets
within the family: the familiar, but what he thought to be clever, deceptions, such as hiding a
bottle behind the bathtub or in other dark corners. He was on an irreversible course towards self- destruction. No one knew why. It would be too facile to say, well, with a wife like that . . .
Edwina in her defense contended that it