Tommy Wilhelm

Character Analysis

(a.k.a. Wilhelm "Wilky" Adler)

It's hard not to feel bad for Tommy Wilhelm, even if he has brought most of his troubles on himself. At heart, the man is an idealist, a romantic, and a dreamer, and he can be really charming when he isn't consumed by his worries and fears. But then again, aren't we all more pleasant to be around when we're not super stressed out?

Unfortunately, Wilhelm's idealism, romanticism, and dreaminess are the same qualities that have gotten him into trouble over and over again throughout his entire life. Honestly, folks, the man couldn't make a practical decision even if he had a trustworthy advisor at his side—someone to play Alfred to his Bruce, Obi-Wan Kenobi to his Luke, Giles to his Buffy, etc. Is it any wonder that a slick confidence man worms his way into Wilhelm's wallet and heart?

Not-So-Honest Mistakes

Wilhelm is a man who makes mistakes. He out-Costanzas George Costanza every step of the way. Just check out how the novel's narrator sizes him up in the very first chapter, as we learn about Wilhelm's decision to drop out of college and head to Hollywood to be a star:

He wanted to start out with the blessings of his family, but they were never given. He quarreled with his parents and his sister. And then, when he was best aware of the risks and knew a hundred reasons against going and had made himself sick with fear, he left home. This was typical of Wilhelm. After much thought and hesitation and debate he invariably took the course he had rejected innumerable times. (1.99)

And just in case you're thinking that one poor decision made in college isn't all that bad—just wait; there's more! As the novel's narrator tells us:

Ten such decisions made up the history of his life. He had decided that it would be a bad mistake to go to Hollywood, and then he went. He had made up his mind not to marry his wife, but ran off and got married. He had resolved not to invest money with Tamkin, and then had given him a check. (1.99)

What gives? Why does Wilhelm do the things he does?

Wiping the Slate

When Wilhelm moves to Hollywood to be a star, he makes two major decisions that he later regrets. First: he regrets going at all. Second: he regrets changing his name.

Tommy's real name is Wilhelm Adler—Wilky to his father, and Velvel to his grandfather. By changing his name in Los Angeles, Wilhelm breaks with his father's family line. On the morning of his "day of reckoning," he thinks:

Yes, it had been a stupid thing to do, but it was his imperfect judgment at the age of twenty which should be blamed. He had cast off his father's name, and with it his father's opinion of him. It was, he knew it was, his bid for liberty, Adler being in his mind the title of the species, Tommy the freedom of the person. But Wilky was his inescapable self. (1.104)

For Wilhelm, running off to the west coast and casting off his family name weren't just bids for liberty: they were also attempts to wipe the slate clean, and to create a new self from scratch. At one point, Wilhelm tells his father:

I thought I shouldn't do things you had done already. Study chemistry. You had done it already. It was in the family. (3.68)

Although he hasn't exactly succeeded in forging his own path, over and over again throughout the novel we see that Wilhelm is the kind of man who likes to start fresh whenever the going gets tough, just like Madonna.

Ready for My Close-Up, Mr. Venice!

Wilhelm makes the first of his unfortunate life decisions while he's still a college student at Penn State. Setting aside the fact that he spends his undergrad days and nights playing poker and doing cocaine, Wilhelm drops out in his sophomore year to pursue life as a Hollywood actor. That might have been an okay thing to do if he had any experience or talent at all, but sadly, he doesn't.

Let's break this down. Out of the blue, Wilhelm gets a letter from a talent scout who's seen his picture in the college newspaper. Wilhelm was a pretty good-looking guy back in the day, and this scout, Maurice Venice, thinks he might have just the right stuff to play the guy who always loses the girl. Wilhelm takes a train to New York City and meets with Venice, who arranges a screen test for him. Visions of stardom dance in Wilhelm's head, and he has his college roommate send his things to NYC.

Unfortunately, both Wilhelm and Venice get a nasty surprise when the screen test comes back:

In those days, Wilhelm had had a speech difficulty. It was not a true stammer, it was a thickness of speech which the sound track exaggerated. The film showed that he had many peculiarities, otherwise unnoticeable. When he shrugged, his hands drew up within his sleeves. The vault of his chest was huge, but he really didn't look strong under the lights. Though he called himself a hippopotamus, he more nearly resembled a bear. His walk was bearlike, quick and rather soft, toes turned inward, as though his shoes were an impediment. (1.101)

Dang, that's tougher criticism than Tyra doles out on America's Next Top Model. Much to Wilhelm's dismay, Venice refuses to support him after that, and the scout makes it clear that Wilhelm isn't going to make it as an actor after all.

After dropping out of college, fighting with his family, and bragging about his soon-to-be fame, the thought of going back home with his tail between his legs is more than Wilhelm can bear. So, against even his own better judgment, he decides to head to Los Angeles anyway.

On the Road with Rojax

In the novel's present-tense, Wilhelm's financial woes have come about because he's quit his job. For roughly a decade, he worked as a travelling salesman for the Rojax Corporation—a company that sells children's furniture and toys. Wilhelm tells his father and their neighbor, Mr. Perls, that he left the company because they tried to give away part of his territory to a new employee—the son-in-law of one of the managers, no less (2.55). As he tells it, the company promised him "executive standing," then jilted him (2.65).

Given Wilhelm's track record, it isn't too surprising that Dr. Adler doesn't really believe him. Instead, Wilhelm's father feels sure that Wilhelm must have been fired, or forced out for causing a scandal. Wilhelm denies his father's accusations, but he doesn't quite tell him the truth. Only later, when Wilhelm confesses the real story to Dr. Tamkin, do we finally learn what went down:

I told everybody I was going to be an officer of the corporation. And I was supposed to. It was promised. But then they welshed because of the son-in-law. I bragged and made myself look big. (4.111)

After bragging about his soon-to-be promotion, Wilhelm couldn't stand the thought of returning to his old territory as a sad and broken man. Tamkin tells him, "If you was humble enough, you could go back" (4.112), and Wilhelm's wife Margaret tells him the same (7.60). Just as when he was a young college man who boasted about heading to Hollywood to be a star, grown-up Wilhelm still can't bear to face reality after his dreams have been torn down like a piñata at a 5-year-old's birthday party.

Cynicism and Faith

Many critics have noted the themes of isolation and alienation in Seize the Day. For them, Wilhelm stands as a representative of the modern, post-WWII American man: drifting, disconnected, divorced from the faith and traditions of earlier generations, and driven by ever-expanding forces of capitalism, consumerism, and cultures of wealth, power, and greed—just like shares on the stock market.

Wilhelm wants to resist the pessimism of his generation. He looks around him and feels that everyone seems cynical and ironic, and this scares him:

No one seemed satisfied, and Wilhelm was especially horrified by the cynicism of successful people. Cynicism was bread and meat to everyone. And irony, too. Maybe it couldn't be helped. It was probably even necessary. Wilhelm, however, feared it intensely. Whenever at the end of the day he was unusually fatigued he attributed it to cynicism. Too much of the world's business done. Too much falsity. (1.57)

Unfortunately for Wilhelm, he isn't quite sure what to be, if not cynical. Some of the places he might turn for answers—like his cultural heritage and faith—seem closed to him too.

Wilhelm is Jewish, but he's mostly secular: "[h]is mother had belonged to the Reform congregation," and "[h]is father had no religion" (5.49). Wilhelm himself "did not go to the synagogue but he would occasionally perform certain devotions, according to his feelings" (5.49). He feels that in his father's eyes, he is "the wrong kind of Jew," and thinks to himself:

He doesn't like the way I act. Only he is the right kind of Jew. Whatever you are, it always turns out to be the wrong kind. (5.49)

Jeez, someone's sounding a little emo.

Although the specific date of Wilhelm's "day of reckoning" isn't entirely clear, clues in the novel suggest that Yom Kippur is coming up soon. As Wilhelm sits next to Mr. Rappaport in the brokerage office, the old man asks him "whether he had reserved his seat in the synagogue for Yom Kippur" (5.46), and tells him that he'd "better hurry up" (5.48).

Since the novel seems to be set during the High Holy Days, Wilhelm's difficult hours of self-reflection and anxious guilt are tied thematically to Jewish traditions of repentance and atonement. Woah, meta.

But, whether or not Wilhelm himself is aware of that is a whole 'nother question. Our guess? Probably not.

Just as Wilhelm feels alienated from his family—and from his fellow man—so too is he alienated from the cultural heritage and faith that could give meaning to his guilt and deep desire to make things right. Our protagonist blusters through his "day of reckoning" with little to guide his actions and thoughts. In matters of faith and devotion, as in so many other areas of his life, Wilhelm is lost at sea without a compass.

Cry Me a River

Saul Bellow could have easily ended Seize the Day on a sad and pessimistic note, what with poor Wilhelm sobbing his heart out in a corner with all of his savings gone. But Bellow isn't content to leave Wilhelm drowning in a puddle of his own snot and tears. Instead, Wilhelm's downfall brings him the transformation he's been craving all his life. Just get a load of the novel's final paragraph:

The flowers and lights fused ecstatically in Wilhelm's blind, wet eyes; the heavy sea-like music came up to his ears. It poured into him where he had hidden himself in the center of a crowd by the great and happy oblivion of tears. He heard it and sank deeper than sorrow, through torn sobs and cries toward the consummation of his heart's ultimate need. (7.107)

As readers, we have no idea what will become of Wilhelm after he settles down, wipes his nose, and heads back to his room in the Hotel Gloriana. Will he go out and look for work? Will he move back in with his wife and sons? Will he beg his mistress to take him in? The novel makes none of this clear, because, for the moment, none of it matters. After sinking even deeper than the depths of his sorrow, the Wilhelm who emerges from the funeral parlor—when he does eventually emerge—will be a Wilhelm reborn.