"Goldstein's" book, really written by O'Brien, was exceedingly peculiar. It was allegedly written by Goldstein, who opposed the Party, yet seemed to define a good deal of what Ingsoc was. The arguments were surprisingly coherent and logical, though lengthy and a tad boring. Two chapters of the book were detailed in the novel. And since it was really O'Brien who wrote it, is this therefore expressive of the Party's beliefs, or is it something completely different altogether?
Chapter 3 of the book seemed to explain how things came to be, to expand the setting beyond London to the state of world affairs that held constant ever since the Cold War began. Essentially, the war was a conflict between Oceania, the United States, and Eurasia, the Soviet Union. The Cold War seems to have split the world up into only two superpowers, perhaps a remark on the nature of the Cold War and both superpowers' aggressive interference in foreign nations. This erupted into an atomic war in the 1950's, another fear of the people at that time, which led to the creation of three supernations that could never destroy each other. "Goldstein" then argues that continued, vicious warfare, though without purpose or end, could be the solution to civilization. He argues that equality for all would cause the elimination of a power caste, and to give wealth to one group would result in a collapse of power; the only solution was to engage in continuous warfare to throw away goods while keeping the people's attention. Though the logic is reasonable, the application to the real world is slightly peculiar. This required that there be only a couple superpowers, all of which agreeing to reduce their countries to a pitiful existence barely above the limit at which humans could exist. This doesn't sound like Communism, but rather a reason to promote a dictator. This foreshadows O'Brien's later claim to power and corruption.
Meanwhile, Chapter 1 discusses how equality would not be beneficial to the society. By keeping a rich upper class and a severe restriction of freedoms, the "pendulum of history" could be "frozen" at a specific point in time. "Goldstein" argues that "inequality was the price of civilization," but then decries past dictators as "half-hearted" attempts at totalitarianism. Again, the book seems to be supporting O'Brien's later claims in the Ministry of Love. Also explained is why the Party exists, which apparently is because the wealthy upper class can more easily hold the majority of Oceania's goods if they're sharing them all. "Goldstein" also tries to explain that the Party will never fall, and discusses crimestop, blackwhite, and doublethink. Winston can't help thinking that the book only tells him what he already knew, what he had already been taught; in fact, several passages, I believe, were cut-and-pasted from earlier chapters in the novel. This repetition doubly stresses the peculiarity of such an allegedly offensive book.
When I first read this, I knew that something was off. This perhaps made the Party seem incredibly offensive, but it explained exactly what the Party was doing. It was pure propaganda written by O'Brien, a school textbook, even. Such echoes of power and authority, and a deep description of doublethink and its various forms seem to be persuading one that the Party is, in fact, perfect. The underlining of Oceania's everlasting, eternal condition suggests to the reader that there is nothing they could do to stop the Party, and explains how one should act while a part of it. Already O'Brien was trying to ingrain the Party philosophy into the minds of Winston and Julia; perhaps the time limit for reading the book was to get them to read it before the Party made them disappear. Undoubtedly this was an honest description of the Party, and to have it written under Goldstein's name could be yet another example of doublethink. The importance of the book within the book, I feel, was to have O'Brien explain to the reader more clearly the what and how so that he could explain the why during interrogation and confession. The book, in context to Winston, was solely to glorify the Party and begin to transform Winston into a loyal Party member once more.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Sunday, October 26, 2008
The Things They Carried - Passage Qualification
O'Brien states that the essence of a person remains the same. I would agree with that statement given certain qualifications. A person most certainly does not change when one considers the identity. However, if one considers the personality, the one part of a person that truly defines that person, that makes them different from anyone else in a sea of clones, then I would have to disagree. Who you are remains the same. What defines you changes with time.
O'Brien compares his fear of defying the playground bully with his fear of draft-dodging mockery when he received his draft notice. He attempts to state that, deep down, he is no different than he was when he was in the fourth grade. This isn't the part of him that remains unchanged. Sure, it's the same type of inability to act, but that part still changes. In the first example, the fear was more of a fear of injury. The second fear was of embarrassment. The type of fear is different, though he is still fearful. The first fear is something that can be fairly easily overcome, with time and growth. The second very few people can overcome, ever. In "In the Field," O'Brien tells us how he was the one who let Kiowa go under the muck. He describes himself without using his name, but illustrates himself frantically searching for the picture he lost during the attack. He was likely searching in order to keep himself busy, as a pleasant distraction, but he, as the narrator, states that he was doing so in case "something might finally be salvaged from all the waste" (173). As O'Brien tells his stories, he is really doing the same thing he was back in the field. He is searching through all of his stories, retelling them, in the hopes that something good might have come out of Vietnam. This search, in contrast to the former frantic search out of anger and guilt, is more exploratory, more purposeful. Where before he searched to save what little he had left, now he searches to find what he never had, even for what little is left of others, and possibly leave it for the future.
Having acknowledged that a good deal of similarity can be undone by purpose, I still maintain that O'Brien is right in the sense that his identity is unchanged. He discusses in the final chapter how he and his comrades kept the dead alive through stories. In the two detailed retellings and short return to the man he killed, O'Brien describes the characteristics and possible future of that person. The man's overall identity, that of a young Vietnamese soldier who would rather not be a soldier, remains unchanged. He's still the same person walking down the road, and in O'Brien's mind, he still is the same person walking right back down the road. Linda is unchanged, preserved in his mind, in his stories. Though what defines a person changes, who they are as a physical being does not. Rat Kiley slowly lost his mind, and Mary Anne vanished into the jungle. However, they remained Rat Kiley and Mary Anne regardless of where they went or what they did. No matter what kind of person one becomes, they are still essentially the same person. But their personalities change the definition of who they are. Tim O'Brien remains Tim O'Brien, but what is the definition of Tim O'Brien?
Response to "theteach":
Perhaps personality might not have been the best word for me to use, but I believe that one's preferences and actions can help define a person for a specific time frame, a specific purpose. People do change as time goes on, be it from one significant experience or several lesser experiences. Like words with multiple meanings, people can only be judged concretely in a specific context. Yet to analyze the overall word and its general connotation, all definitions must be analyzed. If, following your example, one was gregarious or retiring, it would help define who that person was at that time. But if the person reversed and became the opposite, that would change the temporary definition and add to the overall definition. By no means does one single personality define the person entirely, but all personalities taken together would roughly define them. Thus, one could use a personality only to define a solitary aspect of that person, in a specific context. In the end, you're still using the same word, with the same spelling. And like language, definition is not concrete all around the world. Definitions don't ever replace other definitions, they just add to what's already there. Therefore, personality partially defines a person in the sense that it offers a new definition, a new purpose and meaning.
O'Brien compares his fear of defying the playground bully with his fear of draft-dodging mockery when he received his draft notice. He attempts to state that, deep down, he is no different than he was when he was in the fourth grade. This isn't the part of him that remains unchanged. Sure, it's the same type of inability to act, but that part still changes. In the first example, the fear was more of a fear of injury. The second fear was of embarrassment. The type of fear is different, though he is still fearful. The first fear is something that can be fairly easily overcome, with time and growth. The second very few people can overcome, ever. In "In the Field," O'Brien tells us how he was the one who let Kiowa go under the muck. He describes himself without using his name, but illustrates himself frantically searching for the picture he lost during the attack. He was likely searching in order to keep himself busy, as a pleasant distraction, but he, as the narrator, states that he was doing so in case "something might finally be salvaged from all the waste" (173). As O'Brien tells his stories, he is really doing the same thing he was back in the field. He is searching through all of his stories, retelling them, in the hopes that something good might have come out of Vietnam. This search, in contrast to the former frantic search out of anger and guilt, is more exploratory, more purposeful. Where before he searched to save what little he had left, now he searches to find what he never had, even for what little is left of others, and possibly leave it for the future.
Having acknowledged that a good deal of similarity can be undone by purpose, I still maintain that O'Brien is right in the sense that his identity is unchanged. He discusses in the final chapter how he and his comrades kept the dead alive through stories. In the two detailed retellings and short return to the man he killed, O'Brien describes the characteristics and possible future of that person. The man's overall identity, that of a young Vietnamese soldier who would rather not be a soldier, remains unchanged. He's still the same person walking down the road, and in O'Brien's mind, he still is the same person walking right back down the road. Linda is unchanged, preserved in his mind, in his stories. Though what defines a person changes, who they are as a physical being does not. Rat Kiley slowly lost his mind, and Mary Anne vanished into the jungle. However, they remained Rat Kiley and Mary Anne regardless of where they went or what they did. No matter what kind of person one becomes, they are still essentially the same person. But their personalities change the definition of who they are. Tim O'Brien remains Tim O'Brien, but what is the definition of Tim O'Brien?
Response to "theteach":
Perhaps personality might not have been the best word for me to use, but I believe that one's preferences and actions can help define a person for a specific time frame, a specific purpose. People do change as time goes on, be it from one significant experience or several lesser experiences. Like words with multiple meanings, people can only be judged concretely in a specific context. Yet to analyze the overall word and its general connotation, all definitions must be analyzed. If, following your example, one was gregarious or retiring, it would help define who that person was at that time. But if the person reversed and became the opposite, that would change the temporary definition and add to the overall definition. By no means does one single personality define the person entirely, but all personalities taken together would roughly define them. Thus, one could use a personality only to define a solitary aspect of that person, in a specific context. In the end, you're still using the same word, with the same spelling. And like language, definition is not concrete all around the world. Definitions don't ever replace other definitions, they just add to what's already there. Therefore, personality partially defines a person in the sense that it offers a new definition, a new purpose and meaning.
Friday, October 3, 2008
Group memoir: "Why I Write"
Why I Write - by Irene Gutowna Opdyke
When my country was invaded by the Germans and the Russians, my life changed. Many of my friends and neighbors died. Many others whom I never knew also died. Most of them died because they were not wanted by the Germans, and the Russians felt no different. I somehow managed to survive, despite all that I had gone through. Somehow I survived, and somehow I was able to save the lives of my friends. As "just a girl," I managed to save the lives of twelve people, in defiance of all of Germany, and I survived in defiance of all of Russia.
I do not write my story for myself. I risked my life for my friends and my country, and would have gladly died for them. I do not write so others can marvel at my accomplishments. After all, I was "just a girl" at the time, and really am not that much different than any other person who lived in Poland at that time. What makes me different is that I did what I felt was right, in spite of the odds and the consequences. And I write to tell you two things. First, there is no running from the past. All these things happened. This nightmare really happened, and it is my duty to remember all of it, and to tell you so that you may not forget what we are capable of doing to each other. Second, I write to remind you that you are always able to do something. Though what I did was but a drop in the ocean, it was still that drop. I still did what I believed in, and I always will. If you also do what is right, God willing, you will succeed. And there is no righteous deed that is worth so little as to not warrant doing. This is my will: to do right; to tell you; and to remember.
(P.S. The last line was taken from the end of the novel, page 265.)
When my country was invaded by the Germans and the Russians, my life changed. Many of my friends and neighbors died. Many others whom I never knew also died. Most of them died because they were not wanted by the Germans, and the Russians felt no different. I somehow managed to survive, despite all that I had gone through. Somehow I survived, and somehow I was able to save the lives of my friends. As "just a girl," I managed to save the lives of twelve people, in defiance of all of Germany, and I survived in defiance of all of Russia.
I do not write my story for myself. I risked my life for my friends and my country, and would have gladly died for them. I do not write so others can marvel at my accomplishments. After all, I was "just a girl" at the time, and really am not that much different than any other person who lived in Poland at that time. What makes me different is that I did what I felt was right, in spite of the odds and the consequences. And I write to tell you two things. First, there is no running from the past. All these things happened. This nightmare really happened, and it is my duty to remember all of it, and to tell you so that you may not forget what we are capable of doing to each other. Second, I write to remind you that you are always able to do something. Though what I did was but a drop in the ocean, it was still that drop. I still did what I believed in, and I always will. If you also do what is right, God willing, you will succeed. And there is no righteous deed that is worth so little as to not warrant doing. This is my will: to do right; to tell you; and to remember.
(P.S. The last line was taken from the end of the novel, page 265.)
Friday, September 26, 2008
Group Memoir: Quote Analysis
"People glorify all sorts of bravery except the bravery they might show on behalf of their nearest neighbors." -George Eliot
Often, people tend to ignore the person next to them. It's all about what one can obtain for oneself. Particularly, bravery is attributed to a willingness to oppose a great danger. That great danger, however, had better be caused by something powerful and mighty, say, a dragon or a whole army of elite soldiers or something fantastic like that. One might say that, the more ridiculous the odds are, the more stupid the decision, the braver the person. This doesn't often apply to people who do things in the name of others. Irene put her life on the line frequently to save her friends, who were facing the same threat of painful death. However, she did encounter many who did not particularly relish the thought of someone aiding the Jews due to the sentence given for doing so. They found it awfully stupid. Schulz, for example, helped her in her quest to aid the Jews without ever acknowledging what she was doing. Rather than support her, he merely aided her silently, as if reluctantly letting her do what she wanted to. Silent aid and occasional support and encouragement are two completely different things; the first suggests tolerance rather than the second's approval. Another significant example is when Irene goes to church for confession following her first night as Rugemer's mistress. Despite the fact that she was saving twelve human lives, the priest denied her absolution for the specific reason that she was committing a mortal sin. Given, he may have been following the rules, since adultery is a violation of the Ten Commandments, but there are certainly unstated qualifiers in that instruction. Furthermore, his response clearly shows an indifference to the stakes: "'They are Jews.' [...] 'Father, I cannot throw their lives away' [...] 'Then I cannot give you absolution'" (217). When a religious man can tell someone they're going to Hell for saving twelve people, that gives you an indication of just how little neighborly bravery is worth. Furthermore, her Jewish refugees frequently told her to turn them in, just because what she was doing was plain stupid. As modest and caring as it is to tell your friend not to risk her life for you and your family, when she is doing that I'd expect it to be appreciated. The problem is that, compared to the Polish resistance, which fought relentlessly against their conquerors, neighborly bravery seems almost pathetic. Fighting physically against incredible odds is bravery, especially when it is for one's country or for one's personal gain. However, self sacrifice is the worst way to gain glory. That doesn't seem to be bravery, just stupidity. Self-preservation, adherence to rules, and kindness are not excuses for failing to provide praise. They discourage that bravery, or at least allow that person to struggle alone, because in the end it does not seem to be a cause worth fighting for. If neighborly bravery was worth anything in the eyes of others, Irene would have had a little more encouragement than this.
Often, people tend to ignore the person next to them. It's all about what one can obtain for oneself. Particularly, bravery is attributed to a willingness to oppose a great danger. That great danger, however, had better be caused by something powerful and mighty, say, a dragon or a whole army of elite soldiers or something fantastic like that. One might say that, the more ridiculous the odds are, the more stupid the decision, the braver the person. This doesn't often apply to people who do things in the name of others. Irene put her life on the line frequently to save her friends, who were facing the same threat of painful death. However, she did encounter many who did not particularly relish the thought of someone aiding the Jews due to the sentence given for doing so. They found it awfully stupid. Schulz, for example, helped her in her quest to aid the Jews without ever acknowledging what she was doing. Rather than support her, he merely aided her silently, as if reluctantly letting her do what she wanted to. Silent aid and occasional support and encouragement are two completely different things; the first suggests tolerance rather than the second's approval. Another significant example is when Irene goes to church for confession following her first night as Rugemer's mistress. Despite the fact that she was saving twelve human lives, the priest denied her absolution for the specific reason that she was committing a mortal sin. Given, he may have been following the rules, since adultery is a violation of the Ten Commandments, but there are certainly unstated qualifiers in that instruction. Furthermore, his response clearly shows an indifference to the stakes: "'They are Jews.' [...] 'Father, I cannot throw their lives away' [...] 'Then I cannot give you absolution'" (217). When a religious man can tell someone they're going to Hell for saving twelve people, that gives you an indication of just how little neighborly bravery is worth. Furthermore, her Jewish refugees frequently told her to turn them in, just because what she was doing was plain stupid. As modest and caring as it is to tell your friend not to risk her life for you and your family, when she is doing that I'd expect it to be appreciated. The problem is that, compared to the Polish resistance, which fought relentlessly against their conquerors, neighborly bravery seems almost pathetic. Fighting physically against incredible odds is bravery, especially when it is for one's country or for one's personal gain. However, self sacrifice is the worst way to gain glory. That doesn't seem to be bravery, just stupidity. Self-preservation, adherence to rules, and kindness are not excuses for failing to provide praise. They discourage that bravery, or at least allow that person to struggle alone, because in the end it does not seem to be a cause worth fighting for. If neighborly bravery was worth anything in the eyes of others, Irene would have had a little more encouragement than this.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Extremely Loud: discussion question 17
Oskar's use of the term "heavy boots" to describe his depression is pretty good. It conveys an image of dragging one's feet, which certainly helps the reader understand exactly how Oskar feels. However, the heavy boots are also what's holding him down. He refers to the birdseed shirt a couple times, and how he dislikes being in high places. Perhaps it can be interpreted that his boots are keeping him from rising above his current circumstances. Personally, as an article of clothing, boots can be put on and taken off by the wearer at will. I think that "heavy boots" does more than just convey an image, reminding the reader that Oskar is leaving said boots on his feet and not trying to take them off. He often remarks on how he prefers not to get heavy boots, but rarely works to lighten the load. Perhaps Oskar is donning his heavy boots because he has no idea what else to do. The depression may very well be self-induced, as are his bruises. It also suggests Oskar his dragging his feet through life, emphasizing that he is merely drifting around and not trying to move forward of his own will. In addition to commenting on Oskar's emotions, it acts as a symbol for the fact that Oskar is not trying to improve his situation, but merely accepting depression and struggling unnecessarily under the weight of his situation.
Responses to Comments:
In response to "juno":
I do believe that Oskar needs some time to get over his loss and face that loss. HOWEVER, it has been a year and he seems to be resisting any efforts, or at least not understanding any, to aid him in accepting his father's death. As for Oskar not taking off the heavy boots, I do not mean he keeps them on because he likes them. He believes that he knows how to remove them, and those around him are not helping him by pushing forward instead of staying behind a little longer. He feels the answer is in the past, not the future. Consider the segment about the Reservoir of Tears, and how he feels his mother should be adding to it. The journey is certainly for the purpose of him removing the boots, but also realizing that they must be removed with the help of others when the wearer is ready to take them off and leave them behind. Oskar needs to accept his situation first, which I feel is the purpose of his journey, before he can move on. He has been doing things on his own, thinking his boots can come off only if he does something special. He hasn't realized he can take his boots off whenever he wants. Finding that key alone will not unlock the shackles that are his boots.
In response to "ziggy":
See above response. As I stated above, I think Oskar is trying to stay back rather than move forward. He would prefer to watch those pictures in reverse of the man flying back up to the tower, coming home to him, being safe. I agree with your statements on pain, but I do believe that Oskar is not trying to take off the boots directly by his quest. It occurs because he feels that finding the key will let him find his father, who will let him remove the boots. He still keeps his father's last messages in his closet. He is trying to hold back in the past rather than advance into the future. That is why he goes to the graveyard at the end, to accept that his father is gone and that he must move forward with what he has now. In this respect he is, though he persists otherwise, not trying to remove his boots but rather let them come off in reverse.
In response to "kas43091":
I don't think the dead horse would mind much. As I said, he isn't trying to remove the boots because he's trying to get back to what happened before. He's not, in my mind, a pessimistic little twerp who brings down society when he's in a bad mood. However, he is not moving forward of his own accord. He is trying to hold back. Perfectly logical if it weren't for the fact that he can't go back. He plods forth for the key and believes the boots can come off then and only then. By finding out that the key does nothing for him, he realizes that he's had the answer to his problems all along. That, and getting Hawking's letter: "today is the day I've been waiting for." The key word is "waiting."
In response to "ssnickel":
Hadn't thought about him needing to keep the boots on until he learns his lesson. (not in the negative connotation, but literally until he understands what he has to do) Again, I feel that he is not trying to remove the boots directly because he thinks the key to his problems are, well, in that key. Though he is trying to "lighten his boots," he is still trying to lighten them only, not remove them. Now that I think of it, perhaps he feels that he has to have boots, that he cannot take them off. Perhaps taking off the boots signifies leaving behind this part of him. Maybe the journey was less of removing the boots than it was learning to accept the fact that they will always be heavy, and that he must learn to share his load with the others around him. Let the birds on the birdseed shirt help life him above his troubles, if you will, learn to trust in the birds.
In response to "zeus":
As I stated in the first response, he certainly needs the help of others. If he can't learn to accept help from others, he will never learn how to help himself. However, by the same token, he will not be small forever. Which is why, in my opinion, his removal of the boots could be viewed as a rite of passage. He should definitely accept the support of others, but should also try to take that support and use it to learn for himself how to solve his problems. One can say that he relied on his father to remove his heavy boots, and that is why he had such difficulty when his mother and Ron tried to help. It is why he was unable to help his mother.
In response to "tennis":
Yes, I also agree that mourning helps to remember the small details of his father. As I suggested above, perhaps removing the boots means leaving behind certain things and moving on. However, there are many ways to remember someone. I refer to the storage room and Oskar's attempts to save a disposable razor. While it certainly holds value to Oskar, he has to find other ways to keep his father with him. Perhaps the visit to the graveyard is representative of a shift from clinging to material objects towards a more, how do I word this, not spiritual, but yeah, some sort of acceptance of his father's death and knowing he'll always be with him in other ways. Oskar needs to mature past the material objects, past the heavy boots, and find other ways of both remembering his father and enjoying the rest of his life.
Responses to Comments:
In response to "juno":
I do believe that Oskar needs some time to get over his loss and face that loss. HOWEVER, it has been a year and he seems to be resisting any efforts, or at least not understanding any, to aid him in accepting his father's death. As for Oskar not taking off the heavy boots, I do not mean he keeps them on because he likes them. He believes that he knows how to remove them, and those around him are not helping him by pushing forward instead of staying behind a little longer. He feels the answer is in the past, not the future. Consider the segment about the Reservoir of Tears, and how he feels his mother should be adding to it. The journey is certainly for the purpose of him removing the boots, but also realizing that they must be removed with the help of others when the wearer is ready to take them off and leave them behind. Oskar needs to accept his situation first, which I feel is the purpose of his journey, before he can move on. He has been doing things on his own, thinking his boots can come off only if he does something special. He hasn't realized he can take his boots off whenever he wants. Finding that key alone will not unlock the shackles that are his boots.
In response to "ziggy":
See above response. As I stated above, I think Oskar is trying to stay back rather than move forward. He would prefer to watch those pictures in reverse of the man flying back up to the tower, coming home to him, being safe. I agree with your statements on pain, but I do believe that Oskar is not trying to take off the boots directly by his quest. It occurs because he feels that finding the key will let him find his father, who will let him remove the boots. He still keeps his father's last messages in his closet. He is trying to hold back in the past rather than advance into the future. That is why he goes to the graveyard at the end, to accept that his father is gone and that he must move forward with what he has now. In this respect he is, though he persists otherwise, not trying to remove his boots but rather let them come off in reverse.
In response to "kas43091":
I don't think the dead horse would mind much. As I said, he isn't trying to remove the boots because he's trying to get back to what happened before. He's not, in my mind, a pessimistic little twerp who brings down society when he's in a bad mood. However, he is not moving forward of his own accord. He is trying to hold back. Perfectly logical if it weren't for the fact that he can't go back. He plods forth for the key and believes the boots can come off then and only then. By finding out that the key does nothing for him, he realizes that he's had the answer to his problems all along. That, and getting Hawking's letter: "today is the day I've been waiting for." The key word is "waiting."
In response to "ssnickel":
Hadn't thought about him needing to keep the boots on until he learns his lesson. (not in the negative connotation, but literally until he understands what he has to do) Again, I feel that he is not trying to remove the boots directly because he thinks the key to his problems are, well, in that key. Though he is trying to "lighten his boots," he is still trying to lighten them only, not remove them. Now that I think of it, perhaps he feels that he has to have boots, that he cannot take them off. Perhaps taking off the boots signifies leaving behind this part of him. Maybe the journey was less of removing the boots than it was learning to accept the fact that they will always be heavy, and that he must learn to share his load with the others around him. Let the birds on the birdseed shirt help life him above his troubles, if you will, learn to trust in the birds.
In response to "zeus":
As I stated in the first response, he certainly needs the help of others. If he can't learn to accept help from others, he will never learn how to help himself. However, by the same token, he will not be small forever. Which is why, in my opinion, his removal of the boots could be viewed as a rite of passage. He should definitely accept the support of others, but should also try to take that support and use it to learn for himself how to solve his problems. One can say that he relied on his father to remove his heavy boots, and that is why he had such difficulty when his mother and Ron tried to help. It is why he was unable to help his mother.
In response to "tennis":
Yes, I also agree that mourning helps to remember the small details of his father. As I suggested above, perhaps removing the boots means leaving behind certain things and moving on. However, there are many ways to remember someone. I refer to the storage room and Oskar's attempts to save a disposable razor. While it certainly holds value to Oskar, he has to find other ways to keep his father with him. Perhaps the visit to the graveyard is representative of a shift from clinging to material objects towards a more, how do I word this, not spiritual, but yeah, some sort of acceptance of his father's death and knowing he'll always be with him in other ways. Oskar needs to mature past the material objects, past the heavy boots, and find other ways of both remembering his father and enjoying the rest of his life.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Switchover: On to AP Language!
From this point forward, my AP Lit blog becomes my AP Lang blog. Therefore, do not go any farther into the past than this point if you're looking for AP Language posts. Just a notice...
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Passage Analysis -Comedy
I'd say Shrew's Introduction deserves a look at. In summary, the drunk Sly ends up falling asleep (drunk) outside a bar, where a lord comes and pulls a prank on him, telling him when he wakes he's a rich nutty noble. Now firstly, I'd like to point out that the same technique was used in Midsummer Night: a play within a play. Now, the shorter bit last time was the play in a play, Bottom's screwy tale. This time the shorter bit is the "reality," and the play in a play is the story. However, the point remains that there is still a story in a story. Bottom's interlude played its part, as it were, as does Sly's little tale. Considering the constant motif of secrecy and disguise, I'd say it's got its own hidden meaning. Sly is being presented a play in which a shrew is made a proper wife, and a proper wife is revealed to be a shrew. Well, I'd say the shrew made to a proper wife describes Sly, and the proper wife to a shrew is the lord. Why? Well, if I were a proper lord, I wouldn't consider it very lordly to screw with the minds of drunks. Sounds like a high school prank more than a bit of good mannered fun. Sly is now being slowly changed into a right nobleman. Or is he? Really, the lord is no different than he was before, nor is Sly. Is Kate going to remain exceedingly weak and mild-mannered? Heck, no, I'm half-thinking if Petruchio let her she'd drift right back to being outspoken, though more obedient in the end. Plus, I doubt that Bianca is that much worse than Kate. She might be independent, but she's a little more considerate and isn't as likely to fly off the hook. Point? The lord isn't that lordly and never was, he's a bit of a prankster at heart, and Sly is a drunk through and through, nothing to change that ever, not robes nor manners. He'll act the part soon, but revert back to a moron as soon as the jig's up.
Now back to the point of this...There's plenty of reasons why this is being included. One is the above. Secondly, the lord is only dressing Sly properly. He is not changing his personality or mannerisms. Outward appearance is nothing, echoed by Tranio and Petruchio's actions. Also, Bianca's "hidden" personality. At first glance, you'd be well fooled, but spend any amount of time around Sly or the others and you'd have them figured out fast. Also, the thought of things not as they seem to be could be applied to Shakespeare's work itself. He could have left this out, and the above message could still be obtained. Why stress again all is not as it seems? This is a play within a play. Sly is being given a play to mock him. Perhaps the play can be taken as mocking those that would marry solely for personality, or outward appearance? Perhaps he really doesn't want, nor think it possible, for women to echo Kate's final speech? By the way, that question's rhetorical, I really do think Shakespeare's playing games with us, as the lord did to Sly. Shakespeare is not glorying women like Kate. He mocks men like Lucentio and the fact that Petruchio went to such lengths to brag about his wife. The lord is going through very little effort to mock the simple Sly. And he mocks him for his idiotic pursuits and desires which are far out of his reach. The purpose of this intro is to stress that we cannot merely assume the outward appearance is true, and also to never think that our personal desires should be reality. We must think of what reality is and mend our dreams to a reasonable objective, and know that not everything will go our way.
Now back to the point of this...There's plenty of reasons why this is being included. One is the above. Secondly, the lord is only dressing Sly properly. He is not changing his personality or mannerisms. Outward appearance is nothing, echoed by Tranio and Petruchio's actions. Also, Bianca's "hidden" personality. At first glance, you'd be well fooled, but spend any amount of time around Sly or the others and you'd have them figured out fast. Also, the thought of things not as they seem to be could be applied to Shakespeare's work itself. He could have left this out, and the above message could still be obtained. Why stress again all is not as it seems? This is a play within a play. Sly is being given a play to mock him. Perhaps the play can be taken as mocking those that would marry solely for personality, or outward appearance? Perhaps he really doesn't want, nor think it possible, for women to echo Kate's final speech? By the way, that question's rhetorical, I really do think Shakespeare's playing games with us, as the lord did to Sly. Shakespeare is not glorying women like Kate. He mocks men like Lucentio and the fact that Petruchio went to such lengths to brag about his wife. The lord is going through very little effort to mock the simple Sly. And he mocks him for his idiotic pursuits and desires which are far out of his reach. The purpose of this intro is to stress that we cannot merely assume the outward appearance is true, and also to never think that our personal desires should be reality. We must think of what reality is and mend our dreams to a reasonable objective, and know that not everything will go our way.
Passage Analysis -History
For Richard III, I'll analyze the first speech by Richard at the start of the play. One of the interesting things done in this passage is Richard's descriptive and in-depth discussion of the setting. He tells us specifically that it was absolutely god-awful terrible before, but now it's absolutely fantastic, happiest it's ever been. However, Richard's an ugly duck, and couldn't get a date to save his life. (not without some crafty double-talk) He can't enjoy the peace and prosperity without being constantly reminded, "DARN, I'm ugly!" Therefore, he's going to be a real SOB and make everyone miserable.
Overall, this helps to show us early on just how corrupt and terrible Richard is. A fantastic peace has just rolled in, and everyone's having a terrific party. But he's not happy so he's going to screw it all up. So he feels better knowing everyone's as miserable as he is. He is directly opposed to the peace, the merriment, the good things in life. He just about makes himself the nemesis of all goodness right then and there. You are supposed to hate this guy from the start. And he tells you why, so you don't have any questions as to whether or not there's a shave of goodness somewhere in that black pit of his heart. Shakespeare obviously is trying to make a point here. Few characters would need to be defined as pure evil. Perhaps for the purpose of the play, we shouldn't have any doubts, stressing the deviation from history that makes the play fiction based on truth. Shakespeare wouldn't need to do this otherwise, as the audience would know what to expect if the real Rich III was that bad.
And right from the beginning, Rich is attempting to work his magic on us. He doesn't have a choice in the matter, he couldn't be a good guy even if he wanted to. This is all he's got left...boohoo... Yeah, right. Considering how he sweet-talked his way around later, I doubt his plight in the beginning made any sense. He's playing the audience from the start. Shakespeare is stressing the fact that this guy is a tricky, sneaky, double talking jerk, and doing it for a reason. From the start he's lying to us. From the start he's trying to get us on his side. Perhaps Shakespeare is trying to tell us that one must always be on our guard, because evil is against us from the very beginning to the very end. Also, would we have trusted him as well, had he not told us his plans? Maybe Shakespeare is giving us insight into the mind of an evil politician because we can rarely distinguish between good and evil ourselves. We can view things objectively, and we know who the real problem is. Had the opening stopped before he stated he would "prove the villain," we might have felt sorry for him, and been shocked when he executed Clarence. Perhaps the point is: can we always know what people are thinking?
Overall, this helps to show us early on just how corrupt and terrible Richard is. A fantastic peace has just rolled in, and everyone's having a terrific party. But he's not happy so he's going to screw it all up. So he feels better knowing everyone's as miserable as he is. He is directly opposed to the peace, the merriment, the good things in life. He just about makes himself the nemesis of all goodness right then and there. You are supposed to hate this guy from the start. And he tells you why, so you don't have any questions as to whether or not there's a shave of goodness somewhere in that black pit of his heart. Shakespeare obviously is trying to make a point here. Few characters would need to be defined as pure evil. Perhaps for the purpose of the play, we shouldn't have any doubts, stressing the deviation from history that makes the play fiction based on truth. Shakespeare wouldn't need to do this otherwise, as the audience would know what to expect if the real Rich III was that bad.
And right from the beginning, Rich is attempting to work his magic on us. He doesn't have a choice in the matter, he couldn't be a good guy even if he wanted to. This is all he's got left...boohoo... Yeah, right. Considering how he sweet-talked his way around later, I doubt his plight in the beginning made any sense. He's playing the audience from the start. Shakespeare is stressing the fact that this guy is a tricky, sneaky, double talking jerk, and doing it for a reason. From the start he's lying to us. From the start he's trying to get us on his side. Perhaps Shakespeare is trying to tell us that one must always be on our guard, because evil is against us from the very beginning to the very end. Also, would we have trusted him as well, had he not told us his plans? Maybe Shakespeare is giving us insight into the mind of an evil politician because we can rarely distinguish between good and evil ourselves. We can view things objectively, and we know who the real problem is. Had the opening stopped before he stated he would "prove the villain," we might have felt sorry for him, and been shocked when he executed Clarence. Perhaps the point is: can we always know what people are thinking?
Passage Analysis -Tragedy
Being short, I'll analyze Act 5, Scene 1. The whole thing. Firstly, the doctor and nurse are concerning themselves with Lady Macbeth's involvement in the crimes. However, they seem to be surprised more at the fact that she herself is involved, not the fact that Macbeth, also mentioned, has knowledge of it. After all, the nurse heard this before getting the doctor and neither of the two turned from trying to treat her due to this knowledge. It seems that they're expecting Macbeth to be involved, not Lady Macbeth. Thus, Lady Macbeth has been getting away with murder until now. No one suspects her, yet Macbeth is apparently very suspicious. Of course, the irony is that she orchestrated the beginning of this whole story. She is possibly the most responsible for the novel's events.
However, she was kept oblivious of Banquo's murder plans. From her quote on lines 44-45, she may also have been oblivious to the murder of Macduff's family. She's only really responsible for the one murder of Duncan, and she only carried up the daggers! Now Shakespeare's got to be stressing that all of these murders are her fault and the respective blood is on her hands. If it weren't for her pushing Macbeth, none of this would have happened. She is the real slaughterer here. And, interestingly enough, she was the one that was aggressive in the beginning. Now she's even more nervous than Macbeth was then. A sort of role reversal here. Now she's wishing she didn't push Macbeth to get involved in any of this. Sure, the king for the crown, but not everybody else around...
Guilt by association is the main point here. Guilt in two ways, in fact: legal and personal. She's responsible for these murders. She knows they're her fault. And she later kills herself for it. It's a little tragic in the sense that she ended up involved in a good deal of blood after Duncan, and having only made that one bad decision, but she is as guilty as Macbeth. She pays the price as well. Perhaps Shakespeare is also attempting to stress that, despite the appearance of being a good idea, it can be quite the opposite and much more than bargained for. A little evil goes a long way, so to speak. Better not to commit any one crime so as not to be guilty of any further, as it were. Another amusing point is that the nurse and doctor seem sympathetic to her. Again, it's an unfortunate mistake, but she is still responsible for it.
However, she was kept oblivious of Banquo's murder plans. From her quote on lines 44-45, she may also have been oblivious to the murder of Macduff's family. She's only really responsible for the one murder of Duncan, and she only carried up the daggers! Now Shakespeare's got to be stressing that all of these murders are her fault and the respective blood is on her hands. If it weren't for her pushing Macbeth, none of this would have happened. She is the real slaughterer here. And, interestingly enough, she was the one that was aggressive in the beginning. Now she's even more nervous than Macbeth was then. A sort of role reversal here. Now she's wishing she didn't push Macbeth to get involved in any of this. Sure, the king for the crown, but not everybody else around...
Guilt by association is the main point here. Guilt in two ways, in fact: legal and personal. She's responsible for these murders. She knows they're her fault. And she later kills herself for it. It's a little tragic in the sense that she ended up involved in a good deal of blood after Duncan, and having only made that one bad decision, but she is as guilty as Macbeth. She pays the price as well. Perhaps Shakespeare is also attempting to stress that, despite the appearance of being a good idea, it can be quite the opposite and much more than bargained for. A little evil goes a long way, so to speak. Better not to commit any one crime so as not to be guilty of any further, as it were. Another amusing point is that the nurse and doctor seem sympathetic to her. Again, it's an unfortunate mistake, but she is still responsible for it.
Genre Commentary -Tragedy
Well, like the Comedies, the Tragedies seem to have a couple messages and morals of their own. Of course, these are the more corrupting and terrible faults of mankind rather than simple human screw ups. Macbeth, for example, had a brilliant life ahead of him and likely could have gotten far as thane of Cawdor and Glamis. Of course, he ended up tempted by the prospect of being king and blew it all. Even the greatest of heroes can fall given the right leverage. And of course, he ended up arrogant later after the second volley of prophecies from the witches. Again, a major and classic moral of arrogance being one's downfall. The tragedy genre, being like the comedy genre, in that respect, I think might be used to drive a point home rather than pass it along with a laugh. The comedies give a fun day out and a lesson for the day, but tragedies could be meant to make something absolutely clear. A touching story meant to grab you, stop you, and make you understand something particularly important. (Didn't Joyce ramble something on tragedy to that effect in Portrait?) The tragedy genre is more of a lesson play than an enjoyment play. And, like I said earlier, the story is not static like a history. First Macbeth is the good guy, then he's the nervous bad guy, then he's the complete bad guy. First Lady Macbeth took center stage for evil, then she fell apart by the end of the play quite pathetically, with Macbeth leading the way where she stands unsure of her deeds. It keeps one's interest better than a history, because something's always happening. Thus, unlike Histories that allow you to think, "Well that sounds familiar," Tragedies make a point clear and don't let your thoughts wander. Purposeful and entertaining.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Genre Commentary -History
Histories were not quite history as much as story. (I suppose one can say they got rid of the friendly "hi") The purpose may have seemed to have been a cruel representation of Richard III, but I think it is a political play. Yes, to imagine Shakespeare a politician! Really, though, Shakespeare lived in a time where what Richard did in the play was commonplace in real life. Henry VIII executed two people only a few days after he took the throne (at a young age, mind you!) just because Daddy didn't like them. (Yes, even though Daddy was dead he still lopped off their heads.) Shakespeare also had several plays banned at different times because they had characters or events that were similar to events that had recently happened. Sound similar to stuff over here? Shakespeare was a politician as much as he was a literary genius. He was making a statement about the events of his time through fiction where anyone else of less prominence could lose their heads for so much as uttering it. Also, the play's events were based on rumor, and Richard was just as bad as the devil if not worse. I doubt the real Richard the Third was actually that bad. Sure, he may have made a few mistakes and done some unpopular things, I haven't checked exactly what, but I doubt he was the very incarnation of evil. Current example? Richard Nixon. Personally a snake like that shouldn't be allowed to roam the White House halls as freely, but he did do some decent things during his presidency. Of course, he did several less popular things, which is what the public always remembers. Perhaps there is a correlation between the two Richards. (though I'm sure they weren't nicknamed "Dick" for nothing, another amusing coincidence)
Either way, Shakespeare did use the Histories as a form of political discussion. He also keeps the audience objective by making the villains villains and the heroes heroes. The story is fairly static. There isn't a great change in character for anyone. Nothing to mourn except the events of the story, nothing to laugh at except the foolish nature of the characters. It's just telling a story, not trying to entertain us. It's telling us what's going on, not leaving us to wonder the next twist of the plot. The purpose is not to entertain, but to inform. And it is not informing us what history is comprised of, but more that history can repeat itself. What one sees can very easily have happened, and what could have happened may still happen later.
Either way, Shakespeare did use the Histories as a form of political discussion. He also keeps the audience objective by making the villains villains and the heroes heroes. The story is fairly static. There isn't a great change in character for anyone. Nothing to mourn except the events of the story, nothing to laugh at except the foolish nature of the characters. It's just telling a story, not trying to entertain us. It's telling us what's going on, not leaving us to wonder the next twist of the plot. The purpose is not to entertain, but to inform. And it is not informing us what history is comprised of, but more that history can repeat itself. What one sees can very easily have happened, and what could have happened may still happen later.
Genre Commentary -Comedy
Why oh why did I choose to do each bit separately? Ah well.
The Comedy Genre for Shakespeare wasn't a simple slapstick pass-the-day-away laughfest. He kept things witty and clean (to a degree). Rather than simply have someone get smacked around, although there was plenty of that in some, he had comical situations, unfortunate events, and simple irony and sarcasm. Rather than simply have people laugh, he had them laugh and think. It was more on a mental level than a reflex level. Of course, he also made an attempt to keep his works important by hinting or directly quoting certain morals and messages, which I will refer to as M&M's because they are small, sweet, and too numerous to be individually worth savoring. Shrew had a meaning beneath the outward appearance of obedience, which is emphasized by the introduction and ensuing action. If it weren't for that constant appearance as a motif, there would be little purpose to Petruchio's actions save a less acceptable one. Midsummer Night's morals were less moral and more, "Well don't be dingbats." Bottom is self-explanatory, and Oberon's whim ended up causing the four Athenians much trouble. However, no real harm was meant, and that was the purpose. All was good-natured, even the insults at the end to the actors. Perhaps even a warning not to be too carefree, because all actions have consequence. However, as restated by Robin near the end, don't take everything seriously and to heart. A simple prank can turn out badly in the end, but it is not meant to laugh at one but instead with one.
The Comedy Genre for Shakespeare wasn't a simple slapstick pass-the-day-away laughfest. He kept things witty and clean (to a degree). Rather than simply have someone get smacked around, although there was plenty of that in some, he had comical situations, unfortunate events, and simple irony and sarcasm. Rather than simply have people laugh, he had them laugh and think. It was more on a mental level than a reflex level. Of course, he also made an attempt to keep his works important by hinting or directly quoting certain morals and messages, which I will refer to as M&M's because they are small, sweet, and too numerous to be individually worth savoring. Shrew had a meaning beneath the outward appearance of obedience, which is emphasized by the introduction and ensuing action. If it weren't for that constant appearance as a motif, there would be little purpose to Petruchio's actions save a less acceptable one. Midsummer Night's morals were less moral and more, "Well don't be dingbats." Bottom is self-explanatory, and Oberon's whim ended up causing the four Athenians much trouble. However, no real harm was meant, and that was the purpose. All was good-natured, even the insults at the end to the actors. Perhaps even a warning not to be too carefree, because all actions have consequence. However, as restated by Robin near the end, don't take everything seriously and to heart. A simple prank can turn out badly in the end, but it is not meant to laugh at one but instead with one.
Reaction to Shakespeare -Tragedy
A less historically accurate, but more enjoyable, history.
Kidding. However, this is a drift back to the morals and messages of the Comedies. The only difference is one is happy and the other's sad. Also, these morals are more at warnings than the, "Now remember kids..." of the Comedies. Macbeth was going to have everything, and the idiot blew it all. Personally, this is often so many people in the world today. The greediest of all fall in the same fashion. Be it for power or possession, they all get wind of the chance to get some freebies, and they go ahead and choke on the stuff. Still, unlike the Histories, you've got a good guy that comes to the rescue, goes bad, and then some other little unknown guy comes to the rescue and beats the former good guy. It's sort of like all of the Star Wars movies packed into one less spectacular production. There was a lot more depth, so I found it more amusing than the histories, but it does reflect on how easily people can be corrupted. It also reflects on how people are essentially good and can easily do evil and regret it later. There's plenty who have been tortured as Lady Macbeth was, and it can be safely assumed that just about everyone will hesitate like Macbeth did unless he's egged on by an outside force. Though it's a better story than the Histories, I prefer the Comedies. Fantastic plot and all, but I like to keep a pleasant outlook whenever possible. I tend to lose that outlook quickly enough without already knowing what will tick me off.
Kidding. However, this is a drift back to the morals and messages of the Comedies. The only difference is one is happy and the other's sad. Also, these morals are more at warnings than the, "Now remember kids..." of the Comedies. Macbeth was going to have everything, and the idiot blew it all. Personally, this is often so many people in the world today. The greediest of all fall in the same fashion. Be it for power or possession, they all get wind of the chance to get some freebies, and they go ahead and choke on the stuff. Still, unlike the Histories, you've got a good guy that comes to the rescue, goes bad, and then some other little unknown guy comes to the rescue and beats the former good guy. It's sort of like all of the Star Wars movies packed into one less spectacular production. There was a lot more depth, so I found it more amusing than the histories, but it does reflect on how easily people can be corrupted. It also reflects on how people are essentially good and can easily do evil and regret it later. There's plenty who have been tortured as Lady Macbeth was, and it can be safely assumed that just about everyone will hesitate like Macbeth did unless he's egged on by an outside force. Though it's a better story than the Histories, I prefer the Comedies. Fantastic plot and all, but I like to keep a pleasant outlook whenever possible. I tend to lose that outlook quickly enough without already knowing what will tick me off.
Reaction to Shakespeare -History
So history can be amusing...Interesting...
Well, for a play about a corrupt and murderous (not to mention incestuous) SOB, at least, it came out all right. Though really, I still found it a tad boring. The story is based loosely on history and rumor, but I doubt it was for that purpose. Frankly, a History in my opinion, is just a Tragedy sans emotion. At least this one is. But it certainly does bring to light the details of the time, and reflects a few things about all people. How many people in that time period killed or were killed in similar fashions or for similar reasons as were presented in the play? (In case you don't know, A LOT.) For Shakespeare, this was the equivalent of taking a step back and looking at the corrupted nature and track record of the government, if one could call it that, and giving an honest analysis of it. (And making a living at the same time.) There were terrible things going on, and the play was likely just a view of how things would have happened if the rumors were all true. I think there are PLENTY examples of this in our day and age. As much of a crude jerk Nixon was, he ended up doing a great deal of things for the American people. If Richard Nixon was a decent soul in the end, I doubt the real Richard the Third was any different. However, this novel was too much evil and trickery on one person. Frankly, to desire someone dead that long is going to wear you out in the end. It's just irritating. I am willing to bet that somebody in that audience stood up at the end and said "Finally!" or "Took ya long enough!" back in Shakespeare's time. Like today's documentaries; if you aren't seriously interested in what they're talking about, you are floating happily in your own little world. Good stuff, but a tad too consistent.
Well, for a play about a corrupt and murderous (not to mention incestuous) SOB, at least, it came out all right. Though really, I still found it a tad boring. The story is based loosely on history and rumor, but I doubt it was for that purpose. Frankly, a History in my opinion, is just a Tragedy sans emotion. At least this one is. But it certainly does bring to light the details of the time, and reflects a few things about all people. How many people in that time period killed or were killed in similar fashions or for similar reasons as were presented in the play? (In case you don't know, A LOT.) For Shakespeare, this was the equivalent of taking a step back and looking at the corrupted nature and track record of the government, if one could call it that, and giving an honest analysis of it. (And making a living at the same time.) There were terrible things going on, and the play was likely just a view of how things would have happened if the rumors were all true. I think there are PLENTY examples of this in our day and age. As much of a crude jerk Nixon was, he ended up doing a great deal of things for the American people. If Richard Nixon was a decent soul in the end, I doubt the real Richard the Third was any different. However, this novel was too much evil and trickery on one person. Frankly, to desire someone dead that long is going to wear you out in the end. It's just irritating. I am willing to bet that somebody in that audience stood up at the end and said "Finally!" or "Took ya long enough!" back in Shakespeare's time. Like today's documentaries; if you aren't seriously interested in what they're talking about, you are floating happily in your own little world. Good stuff, but a tad too consistent.
Reaction to Shakespeare -Comedy
Well, this was quite an enjoyable genre. Particularly compared to the doom gloom and misery of the past few novels. Joking aside, though, I wasn't expecting this out of Shakespeare's comedies. They were funny, obviously, but I wasn't referring to that, rather the depth involved, particularly in Shrew. Unlike other comedies that can be just simple purposeless comedies, the novels were sort of individual and witty, with important morals and messages even. Midsummer Night wasn't just chuckles, and actually had a bit of seriousness to it. It begins out with serious circumstances and only becomes comedic later in the play. Oberon's attempt at revenge ends up backfiring terribly, partly due to Robin's screw ups, but there's still the fact that his one other idea ended up causing even greater trouble. Perhaps it could be taken to mean that if something means that much to you, you could take some care to see that it is taken care of. Oberon simply passed the task off, and ended up causing massive problems in the end. And as much as Shrew could be taken to be a simple comedy with a bad message of inferior women, I personally feel that Shakespeare was after something else. Lucentio bet on his own wife's obedience under the assumption that she would obey orders, being beautiful and kind in contrast to her sister. The fact that Shakespeare has the turn-around in the end could be a repeat of the classic "don't judge a book by its cover." Also, perhaps, a nod toward people falling in love for looks rather than character. For lighthearted comedies, they certainly have quite a depth to them. More depth than, say, Mel Brooks. Nothing against his movies, but I can't quite think of many messages in there.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Sound and Sense -Poem 234
The narrator here is a dead guy who's a bit miffed at the military for shooting off cannons in the middle of eternity. To put it simply. There is a rhyme scheme here, ABAB iambic, and it most definitely has an impact on the poem. Firstly, having the dead guy speak results in a much better read than having a living person talk of the dead. Hearing it first person adds to the credibility, and also the understanding, because otherwise it's all interpretation of who the speaker is, what their fictional profession is, the story of the story, etc. Here it's reduced to a simple answer: first-hand opinion from the dead guy. Secondly, having it in a rhyme scheme helps add to the sarcastic wit of the poem. It gives it a sort of weary beat, like someone woken in the middle of the night to blaring loud music. The rhyme also makes it more personable, as if it were a children's rhyme. The overall effect is that it makes the dead less detached from the living, and makes us more able to relate to them. You almost want to agree that those ****in' kids better turn down that racket, because you've been down that path before, I'm sure, someone waking you in the night, and likely for a stupid reason as well.
One interesting technique used is the allusion. It brings to mind some of the more famous English sites, where bloody battles were likely fought and, of course, the English would really like to stay. The date is 1948, so WWII will have passed, but not long ago. Obviously, the guns could be blazing away for that, the attacks on England by Germany. Hence the "readiness to avenge" (34). Regardless, though it may seem like little to us Americans, being as we don't know the history behind these sites, we can all agree that some places we really like to keep under our thumb. We wouldn't, for example, want Nazis having a picnic on Mount Rushmore, or perhaps building a missile site under the Statue of Liberty. Some places are special to us, and likewise the English really want to fight for their places. But then again, it's only a small tourist attraction. The fact that mere tracts of land and all on it hold such a grip on us that we must blow each others' heads off for it is a little disappointing. Think of Jerusalem. Holy place, I understand, but why are you unholily killing thousands of people there? Secondly, the tone of the poem is quite amusing. It helps convey the friendly nature of the poem, the comic situation of old bones cranky at the young making such a heck of a noise. For one, a deceased priest says it would have been a better idea to drink for 40 years rather than preach, given the idiotic battling going on. For him, nothing's changed, so why did he bother? And, of course, God comes down to joke with the dead how the soldiers should be lucky that it's not time for the Final Judgment, "For if it were they'd have to scour Hell's floor for so much threatening..." (19-20). He also jests that he might not pass the Final Judgment soon after all because "you are men and rest eternal sorely need" (23-24). That's like saying, "Well, old guys, if you really need that much sleep, you might as well just sleep forever, you're so darn tired." This is most certainly a comic approach to a fairly serious topic; mindless slaughter, countered by a good-humored God and the undead.
Personally, I liked this poem. As far as a correlation to the world today, I can agree that people can fight over the craziest of things. But when it comes to war, people can really be dense. Tons of people die. It's not a very pleasant thing to experience should you live through it either, I'm sure. But, of course, we fight on...and on...and on...............Kinda makes you seem hopeless about the future. There will always be fighting, but I found this humorous approach to the subject quite amusing. Though, if I were one of those skeletons, I'd be more likely to get out of my grave and tell the noisemakers to SHUT UP. Whether or not I scare them into the grave next to mine is of no concern to me.
One interesting technique used is the allusion. It brings to mind some of the more famous English sites, where bloody battles were likely fought and, of course, the English would really like to stay. The date is 1948, so WWII will have passed, but not long ago. Obviously, the guns could be blazing away for that, the attacks on England by Germany. Hence the "readiness to avenge" (34). Regardless, though it may seem like little to us Americans, being as we don't know the history behind these sites, we can all agree that some places we really like to keep under our thumb. We wouldn't, for example, want Nazis having a picnic on Mount Rushmore, or perhaps building a missile site under the Statue of Liberty. Some places are special to us, and likewise the English really want to fight for their places. But then again, it's only a small tourist attraction. The fact that mere tracts of land and all on it hold such a grip on us that we must blow each others' heads off for it is a little disappointing. Think of Jerusalem. Holy place, I understand, but why are you unholily killing thousands of people there? Secondly, the tone of the poem is quite amusing. It helps convey the friendly nature of the poem, the comic situation of old bones cranky at the young making such a heck of a noise. For one, a deceased priest says it would have been a better idea to drink for 40 years rather than preach, given the idiotic battling going on. For him, nothing's changed, so why did he bother? And, of course, God comes down to joke with the dead how the soldiers should be lucky that it's not time for the Final Judgment, "For if it were they'd have to scour Hell's floor for so much threatening..." (19-20). He also jests that he might not pass the Final Judgment soon after all because "you are men and rest eternal sorely need" (23-24). That's like saying, "Well, old guys, if you really need that much sleep, you might as well just sleep forever, you're so darn tired." This is most certainly a comic approach to a fairly serious topic; mindless slaughter, countered by a good-humored God and the undead.
Personally, I liked this poem. As far as a correlation to the world today, I can agree that people can fight over the craziest of things. But when it comes to war, people can really be dense. Tons of people die. It's not a very pleasant thing to experience should you live through it either, I'm sure. But, of course, we fight on...and on...and on...............Kinda makes you seem hopeless about the future. There will always be fighting, but I found this humorous approach to the subject quite amusing. Though, if I were one of those skeletons, I'd be more likely to get out of my grave and tell the noisemakers to SHUT UP. Whether or not I scare them into the grave next to mine is of no concern to me.
Sound and Sense -Poem 212
The narrator is more or less anybody speaking a warning about money, in free verse and no rhyme scheme. This accomplishes several things. First, it allows for the nature of the poem to be felt. The poem has a simple and friendly nature at first, giving an image that money is in fact quite friendly. The way the poem is written, it is casual like a regular conversation with a friend, adding to the quiet and gentle way the story seems to progress. The other thing is that the lack of structure allows for the end of the poem to have a greater effect. Since the poem is not structured, the ending seems to come out of nowhere, again following the style of the story of a sudden ill end. The poem itself is able to reflect the tone of the narrator. If the poem was structured, then it would almost assuredly lose something in the steady beat of a rhythm, making the poem seem to glorify money rather than convey the outer image of it, or sing of its good nature rather than let it come to the reader.
Firstly, the similes and metaphors are very effective. One compares money to an amoeba, which "makes love in secret only to itself" (13-15), conveying the idea that money really has no affections for anything else but itself very well. Amoeba, in fact, simply divide themselves, making the simile even more effective that it really loves nothing, but is merely a simple being if anything at all. Comparing it to a dog also helps convey the sense that money can be beneficial to one to the point where one might cherish it as a friend. The other important technique for making money humane is personification. The narrator describes the money as wanting to "nest in your pocket or curl up in a corner" (3-5), and also how it will "turn its head as if for a kiss and bite you gently on the hand" (23-26). These lines also help to make the inanimate and far from living money more alive, more personable. The narrator is trying to make you consider for a moment a living, breathing, and especially conniving, money.
Personally, I agree with this. Completely. Money will most certainly "delight your friends, shake hands with men" (8-9), or at least will allow you to do this. Everybody likes a rich friend, or having one at least, and you'll definitely be meeting a lot of people who take interest in the well-to-do. And I doubt it's necessary to explain what it means to "lick the legs of women" (10-11). But, of course, money never likes being alone, and you'll be more than happy to find more, to keep all of together, nice and happy. In short: eventually you'll go corrupt and be a greedy little miser. It'll happen suddenly, and from that moment on, you're not going to ever be the same again.
Firstly, the similes and metaphors are very effective. One compares money to an amoeba, which "makes love in secret only to itself" (13-15), conveying the idea that money really has no affections for anything else but itself very well. Amoeba, in fact, simply divide themselves, making the simile even more effective that it really loves nothing, but is merely a simple being if anything at all. Comparing it to a dog also helps convey the sense that money can be beneficial to one to the point where one might cherish it as a friend. The other important technique for making money humane is personification. The narrator describes the money as wanting to "nest in your pocket or curl up in a corner" (3-5), and also how it will "turn its head as if for a kiss and bite you gently on the hand" (23-26). These lines also help to make the inanimate and far from living money more alive, more personable. The narrator is trying to make you consider for a moment a living, breathing, and especially conniving, money.
Personally, I agree with this. Completely. Money will most certainly "delight your friends, shake hands with men" (8-9), or at least will allow you to do this. Everybody likes a rich friend, or having one at least, and you'll definitely be meeting a lot of people who take interest in the well-to-do. And I doubt it's necessary to explain what it means to "lick the legs of women" (10-11). But, of course, money never likes being alone, and you'll be more than happy to find more, to keep all of together, nice and happy. In short: eventually you'll go corrupt and be a greedy little miser. It'll happen suddenly, and from that moment on, you're not going to ever be the same again.
Sound and Sense -Poem 206
The narrator here seems to be an omnipotent being, describing a particular house on a bad night. The rhyme scheme happens to be an ABAB iambic poem. Now although the narrator does not have much of an impact on the poem itself, in its being omnipotent it prevents any other form of narrator from affecting the tone of the poem. If another person were to be telling it, it would have a much different effect on the reader. A caretaker or traveler could easily make this a horror poem, which it of course is not meant to be. The meter, though, helps develop a rhythm that makes the poem not as much of a horror story as a depiction of the haunted house and its former "tenants." This is not trying to tell any specific story as much as it is trying to describe the house and the fears sometimes brought up by a storm. Obviously, the dead are not roaming the halls, but the storm is frightening other people inside. The rhythm and rhyme help to make the poem lyrical, and relieves some of the pure fright from the scene. Rather than an eyewitness's account in random, free verse terror, the omnipotent speaker allows for a neutral description of the setting.
The particular imagery in the poem helps give us a better idea of the house and its inhabitants. The poem details how the storm is powerful enough to make the house shake as if it were "smitten as with a flail" (line 3). The phantoms are described as "Old terrors...Creep[ing] from their caves to life again" (7-8), and "the packed Pollution of remorse and time, Slipped from oblivion" (13-15). The imagery helps to give an idea of both how bad the storm is and how terrified the residents become. Another useful technique is the use of alliteration, assonance, and consonance. Phrases like "guardian grasp on blood and brain" (6), "assert their squalid lease of sin" (11) help to establish further the flowing quality of the poem. It is orderly, lyrical, and not necessarily meant to evoke mass fear. The use of these techniques help to stress the focus is not on phantoms and the undead but on the fears of the residents.
To me, the poem seems to convey a common pain-in-the-neck. Sounds in the dark often frighten people, primarily because you don't know what made the sound. If you've inherited a creaky old house, chances are it has a long and likely not-too-favorable history. All the ghost stories you've ever heard, and all the rumors about the house, all come to life in your mind. Being half asleep, one can easily think they've seen a ghost or heard some piercing scream. I know personally that when you're just drifting off you might think you see or hear something, I've had that happen before, but at that point, at least I wake up and know that it's nothing. In the middle of a storm, though, there's always going to be creaking and whistling, and then it's bound to get creepy to some degree or another. And as the poem states, we can't believe there's nothing there until there is calmness or light. Of course, you're exhausted by then, but what else can you do about your own mind?
The particular imagery in the poem helps give us a better idea of the house and its inhabitants. The poem details how the storm is powerful enough to make the house shake as if it were "smitten as with a flail" (line 3). The phantoms are described as "Old terrors...Creep[ing] from their caves to life again" (7-8), and "the packed Pollution of remorse and time, Slipped from oblivion" (13-15). The imagery helps to give an idea of both how bad the storm is and how terrified the residents become. Another useful technique is the use of alliteration, assonance, and consonance. Phrases like "guardian grasp on blood and brain" (6), "assert their squalid lease of sin" (11) help to establish further the flowing quality of the poem. It is orderly, lyrical, and not necessarily meant to evoke mass fear. The use of these techniques help to stress the focus is not on phantoms and the undead but on the fears of the residents.
To me, the poem seems to convey a common pain-in-the-neck. Sounds in the dark often frighten people, primarily because you don't know what made the sound. If you've inherited a creaky old house, chances are it has a long and likely not-too-favorable history. All the ghost stories you've ever heard, and all the rumors about the house, all come to life in your mind. Being half asleep, one can easily think they've seen a ghost or heard some piercing scream. I know personally that when you're just drifting off you might think you see or hear something, I've had that happen before, but at that point, at least I wake up and know that it's nothing. In the middle of a storm, though, there's always going to be creaking and whistling, and then it's bound to get creepy to some degree or another. And as the poem states, we can't believe there's nothing there until there is calmness or light. Of course, you're exhausted by then, but what else can you do about your own mind?
Sound and Sense -Poem 203
I'm going to assume that the speaker is in fact a teacher teaching his/her students, as the narrator mentions going home while the students go to another class. There is no set rhythm to the poem, no meter or rhyme scheme. This makes the poem more powerful because of what it is about. The narrator mentions that he/she "tried to drown them with my words" (13-14), so having a poem in free verse style like this helps convey a feeling that speech and poetry is almost natural to human beings, and that most can in fact understand it well and enjoy it and will, using the extended metaphor, take to it like a fish to water. Were the poem actually set to a rhyme scheme and meter, it might not have the same impact, and might actually be less entertaining to the point that others might take the idea to be that only versed poetry can be understood or appreciated.
One of the obvious literary devices is the extended metaphor. The entire classroom ends up becoming a fish tank, and all the students fish. Figuratively, of course. This helps to give an idea of how, though the teacher was expecting the students not to understand or take interest in what he said, that they would all figuratively drown, they instead understood everything fairly well and were soon "[swimming] around the room]." The metaphor gives a known experience to colorfully describe the situation, and help to give a sense of remorse even as the class leaves. Out of their natural element of language and back in the real world, they return to their normal lives unable to have the same level of freedom as in the class. Another technique used is the alteration of tone. In the beginning, the narrator seems to be almost surprised at the students' appreciation and comprehension of literature, and then becomes a little remorseful when the class finally lets out. The narrator seems to be slightly upset throughout the piece, though, conveying the idea that he believes literature is not...how do I say this...either really understood or well liked, and that whoever does is often busy in the rest of the boring world, or is only appreciative when it is required as class work.
To me, the poem seems to be from a teacher, surprised but happily surprised at his/her class's understanding of literature. The narrator is a little upset at returning to the real world at the end of class, but there's not much to be done about that. Perhaps naming the cat Queen Elizabeth was to signify history classes, possibly stating that the other things taught in school take the life out of the students and the rest of the day. The narrator would prefer to have that eager class throughout the day because of the freedom that the literature brings, and wearily goes about the remainder of the day as lifeless as his/her class originally was.
One of the obvious literary devices is the extended metaphor. The entire classroom ends up becoming a fish tank, and all the students fish. Figuratively, of course. This helps to give an idea of how, though the teacher was expecting the students not to understand or take interest in what he said, that they would all figuratively drown, they instead understood everything fairly well and were soon "[swimming] around the room]." The metaphor gives a known experience to colorfully describe the situation, and help to give a sense of remorse even as the class leaves. Out of their natural element of language and back in the real world, they return to their normal lives unable to have the same level of freedom as in the class. Another technique used is the alteration of tone. In the beginning, the narrator seems to be almost surprised at the students' appreciation and comprehension of literature, and then becomes a little remorseful when the class finally lets out. The narrator seems to be slightly upset throughout the piece, though, conveying the idea that he believes literature is not...how do I say this...either really understood or well liked, and that whoever does is often busy in the rest of the boring world, or is only appreciative when it is required as class work.
To me, the poem seems to be from a teacher, surprised but happily surprised at his/her class's understanding of literature. The narrator is a little upset at returning to the real world at the end of class, but there's not much to be done about that. Perhaps naming the cat Queen Elizabeth was to signify history classes, possibly stating that the other things taught in school take the life out of the students and the rest of the day. The narrator would prefer to have that eager class throughout the day because of the freedom that the literature brings, and wearily goes about the remainder of the day as lifeless as his/her class originally was.
Monday, March 24, 2008
James Joyce -Symbol Analysis
One of the more prevalent symbols in the book is one of individual freedom. The ability to be the person you want to be, the person you really are, and to do what you enjoy doing and say what you think without detriment. The ability to exist, one could say. This is expressed in several ways. Firstly, his name's Dedalus, for crying out loud! You can't be more obvious than that! Dedalus (the Greek one) made himself a set of wings to escape the maze he had built for another king. To escape the confines that his intellect and talent had made for him. Dedalus (back to the future) is faced with endless problems to being himself. His family's politically divided, and after a while is poor. His school is religious to the nth degree. He's unsure of himself for most of his youth. He possesses radical ideas and opinions frowned upon by most of the rest of Ireland. He doesn't fit in. To make a long story short, his life is a cage. No matter what he might be, he is locked into this cage of Ireland. His religion, his family, his nation's beliefs trap him. And his opinions only seem to make everyone else push him further away.
He has to escape. At the end of chapter (is it a chapter, or a segment, or what?) 4, Dedalus suddenly has this great realization of who he is and what life means. He's at first trapped by his childhood, not knowing what kind of person to be, going along with the only advice his family can give. His mother says to follow the school's and church's teachings. His father talks about himself. He doesn't know what he is. Then he turns to sin and prostitutes for a while before realizing that this isn't him either. He goes back to everything he was taught before. If it isn't one hand, it must be the other. But he doesn't fit in there, either. And it's not as if he isn't a good Jesuit. His teacher asked him to think about taking a position as a priest, and he gets several positions of merit, let's call them, while in the schools. He's a pretty good religious kid, but that's not who he is. Dedalus, myth, was not just some genius who existed for building mazes. He wanted to live on his own. Sure, he was great, and I'm sure being the king's mazemaker gets you some perks, like a home and food, but it wasn't him. Neither is Dedalus, Stephen, religious. He doesn't belong there. He isn't who his parents and teachers keep telling him to be, he's something unique. He realizes that there's more to life than the extremes he's been experiencing. But he still doesn't really know who he is.
He keeps talking with Cranly about what to do. Now that he's free, he doesn't know where to go from there. All he does know is that his mother and society keeps telling him to change his radical and wrong ways. As he puts it, "You talk to me of nationality, language, religion. I shall try to fly by those nets" (Joyce 220). He can't quite figure out where to go from here, what to become. All he does know is that he can't stay there. All he knows is that to become an individual he must throw off entirely all expectations of others and live entirely on his own. But he can't even decide whether or not he should receive Easter Communion because his mother asked him to. He's not completely free yet. He has begun to flown, one could say, but isn't accustomed to flying and wants to rest for a bit on land. The only question is, what land? Being free is not only to fly away, but to know where to fly. Dedalus, myth, was still restrained in that he could not fly high into the air. Dedalus, Stephen, does not now where to go from here, or how high to fly. Should he not go because he does not fully believe in the church, or should he be kind to his mother despite his lack of belief? Should he fly high and far away, or stay close to the ground and run along it for a while? Freedom is useless if one doesn't know what they're going to do with it. What is the point of being free if you don't know how you will use that freedom?
He has to escape. At the end of chapter (is it a chapter, or a segment, or what?) 4, Dedalus suddenly has this great realization of who he is and what life means. He's at first trapped by his childhood, not knowing what kind of person to be, going along with the only advice his family can give. His mother says to follow the school's and church's teachings. His father talks about himself. He doesn't know what he is. Then he turns to sin and prostitutes for a while before realizing that this isn't him either. He goes back to everything he was taught before. If it isn't one hand, it must be the other. But he doesn't fit in there, either. And it's not as if he isn't a good Jesuit. His teacher asked him to think about taking a position as a priest, and he gets several positions of merit, let's call them, while in the schools. He's a pretty good religious kid, but that's not who he is. Dedalus, myth, was not just some genius who existed for building mazes. He wanted to live on his own. Sure, he was great, and I'm sure being the king's mazemaker gets you some perks, like a home and food, but it wasn't him. Neither is Dedalus, Stephen, religious. He doesn't belong there. He isn't who his parents and teachers keep telling him to be, he's something unique. He realizes that there's more to life than the extremes he's been experiencing. But he still doesn't really know who he is.
He keeps talking with Cranly about what to do. Now that he's free, he doesn't know where to go from there. All he does know is that his mother and society keeps telling him to change his radical and wrong ways. As he puts it, "You talk to me of nationality, language, religion. I shall try to fly by those nets" (Joyce 220). He can't quite figure out where to go from here, what to become. All he does know is that he can't stay there. All he knows is that to become an individual he must throw off entirely all expectations of others and live entirely on his own. But he can't even decide whether or not he should receive Easter Communion because his mother asked him to. He's not completely free yet. He has begun to flown, one could say, but isn't accustomed to flying and wants to rest for a bit on land. The only question is, what land? Being free is not only to fly away, but to know where to fly. Dedalus, myth, was still restrained in that he could not fly high into the air. Dedalus, Stephen, does not now where to go from here, or how high to fly. Should he not go because he does not fully believe in the church, or should he be kind to his mother despite his lack of belief? Should he fly high and far away, or stay close to the ground and run along it for a while? Freedom is useless if one doesn't know what they're going to do with it. What is the point of being free if you don't know how you will use that freedom?
James Joyce -Passage Analysis
I think I'll go from the last full paragraph on 150 to the last full one on 151. This is the long detailed hysteria of Dedalus after he hears the long hell sermon and has the freaky nightmare, as he runs through the streets to find a priest to confess to. Solely for the sake that Dedalus is completely nuts right now. He continues on and on about how he absolutely must confess, how he's no more than an animal, how it's so terrible what he's done, etc. etc. etc. This particular stream of thought seems to occur in a relatively short span of time (while the following run through the streets occurs over a longer span of time), and is there only to convey how upset and repentant he is. He was never particularly interested in prostitutes. Even on that night where he first went to one, he was more interested in just standing there in her arms, rather than having sex. But he more or less got hooked on it and even then wasn't too particularly proud of it. He's really sorry for what he did, but now he's just in a state of panic.
The previous hell sermon was one of the longest and most detailed descriptions of hell I've ever heard, and am likely ever to hear. Of course, this sermon scares Dedalus stiff. It affects him so much he goes straight into this panic and goes tearing through the streets, thinking "Confess! Confess!" (Joyce 150). Relax, Dedalus. You're not going to suddenly up and die. He's that panicked that he's afraid of dying and then going straight to hell, or even, judging from the top of page 151, sinning again and making it worse. He's a complete nervous wreck. This passage was particularly effective for two reasons. One, the short sentences and many exclamatory sentences help to convey the sense that there is some grand emergency. Knowing that there isn't really that much of an emergency, we know that Dedalus is pretty miserable right now, and feeling very guilty. The second reason is because, unlike the hell sermon, which was long, detailed, and despite being quite detailed, a bit boring. It was just descriptions and scripture, and seemed to drag on and on. This segment, though, is written in short shouts and bursts, and gives a better sense of the emotion involved. Where the preacher seemed to be just up there giving a speech, Dedalus seems to be almost being chased by oblivion. Quite effective if not a little over-dramatic.
This also seems to reflect how overly pious Dedalus still is. Despite his sinful habits, he still is actually quite religious still. In fact, he's able to reflect back on religion frequently. This stresses, though, that religion still forms the basis of all of his opinions at the moment. Religion still rules his mind.
The previous hell sermon was one of the longest and most detailed descriptions of hell I've ever heard, and am likely ever to hear. Of course, this sermon scares Dedalus stiff. It affects him so much he goes straight into this panic and goes tearing through the streets, thinking "Confess! Confess!" (Joyce 150). Relax, Dedalus. You're not going to suddenly up and die. He's that panicked that he's afraid of dying and then going straight to hell, or even, judging from the top of page 151, sinning again and making it worse. He's a complete nervous wreck. This passage was particularly effective for two reasons. One, the short sentences and many exclamatory sentences help to convey the sense that there is some grand emergency. Knowing that there isn't really that much of an emergency, we know that Dedalus is pretty miserable right now, and feeling very guilty. The second reason is because, unlike the hell sermon, which was long, detailed, and despite being quite detailed, a bit boring. It was just descriptions and scripture, and seemed to drag on and on. This segment, though, is written in short shouts and bursts, and gives a better sense of the emotion involved. Where the preacher seemed to be just up there giving a speech, Dedalus seems to be almost being chased by oblivion. Quite effective if not a little over-dramatic.
This also seems to reflect how overly pious Dedalus still is. Despite his sinful habits, he still is actually quite religious still. In fact, he's able to reflect back on religion frequently. This stresses, though, that religion still forms the basis of all of his opinions at the moment. Religion still rules his mind.
James Joyce -Reaction to the Novel
Long title. Well, longer than most. Hence I title the blog with his name and not the title as I usually do.
I found the novel moderately interesting. Often it became a little uninteresting due to the experience being described, and his blending of imagination and reality, but being a stream of consciousness writing you can't expect much else. Especially since he was frequently trying to describe emotions. Most times emotions are difficult to describe shortly due to their complexity and intensity, which often led to a paragraph or even page be listed to a few moments or even seconds of his thoughts. Then the shift back to reality, which proceeds comparably faster... I suppose the most irritating thing was the progression of time, for me. I like when everything moves at a constant pace. The long segments left to vivid descriptions, followed by a skip to a few hours later, or the next day or next year... It was sort of just a sit-back-and-go-with-it type book. Though I must say, that's the most descriptive explanation of hell in the entire world. Remind me to burn those college descriptions from Jesuit schools.
Seriously, as kooky as the book was, as complicated and emotional as it was, it was fairly interesting. I don't think anybody ever understands everything about themselves or the world around them, ever. Definitely not as kids, but not even fully as adults. And everybody changes a good deal based on their experiences, and will undoubtedly not find out who they truly are until they are ready to make their way into the world. I still don't really know what profession I want to be part of, and in a year and a quarter I'm out of high school. And I've been thinking about it since I was about six. Every time I thought I knew what I was going to be, or where I was going to go, within a year my mind was set on something else. Dedalus switched between an obedient religious child to a sin-heavy reclusive ferret to a pious freak to an I-don't-really-give-a-blast kind of thinking guy. Though I haven't gone through any of those radical extremes, my long-winded point is that I still don't know who I am as a person, but I'm fairly sure I'll figure it out in time.
And as far as a connection to the world in general... Stay away from Jesuits, or something, I don't know.
I found the novel moderately interesting. Often it became a little uninteresting due to the experience being described, and his blending of imagination and reality, but being a stream of consciousness writing you can't expect much else. Especially since he was frequently trying to describe emotions. Most times emotions are difficult to describe shortly due to their complexity and intensity, which often led to a paragraph or even page be listed to a few moments or even seconds of his thoughts. Then the shift back to reality, which proceeds comparably faster... I suppose the most irritating thing was the progression of time, for me. I like when everything moves at a constant pace. The long segments left to vivid descriptions, followed by a skip to a few hours later, or the next day or next year... It was sort of just a sit-back-and-go-with-it type book. Though I must say, that's the most descriptive explanation of hell in the entire world. Remind me to burn those college descriptions from Jesuit schools.
Seriously, as kooky as the book was, as complicated and emotional as it was, it was fairly interesting. I don't think anybody ever understands everything about themselves or the world around them, ever. Definitely not as kids, but not even fully as adults. And everybody changes a good deal based on their experiences, and will undoubtedly not find out who they truly are until they are ready to make their way into the world. I still don't really know what profession I want to be part of, and in a year and a quarter I'm out of high school. And I've been thinking about it since I was about six. Every time I thought I knew what I was going to be, or where I was going to go, within a year my mind was set on something else. Dedalus switched between an obedient religious child to a sin-heavy reclusive ferret to a pious freak to an I-don't-really-give-a-blast kind of thinking guy. Though I haven't gone through any of those radical extremes, my long-winded point is that I still don't know who I am as a person, but I'm fairly sure I'll figure it out in time.
And as far as a connection to the world in general... Stay away from Jesuits, or something, I don't know.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Heart of Darkness- Symbol or Theme
For a symbol, I think I'll analyze the Russian. He's the guy that adored Kurtz, with all the rags sewed on his clothes. He's not just another loony bin there for space filling, at least I don't think he is. Firstly, his clothes are patched up with numerous multicolored pieces of rags that were lying around. Rags that Kurtz had lying around. I'm going to guess that this stands for the fact that he absorbed everything that Kurtz said, did, was. He didn't bother to express himself, he simply let Kurtz fill him in with everything and anything he pleased. He refused to think for himself, to see things as they were. He didn't think that there were problems with what they were doing, that they should stop and find a better way, he simply ignored their problems and covered it up with whatever Kurtz would ramble about. He covered up Kurtz's faults with his lectures. And he wouldn't suffer any bad remarks about Kurtz. He was more or less Kurtz's rag doll, a puppet to ensure that all people give him at least some degree of respect that he believes he deserves. He is completely under Kurtz's power.
Marlow describes him as someone "ruled by the the spirit of adventure," and that Marlow actually envied him a little for it. The Russian more or less is able to live only because he's fascinated with moving along, to do more and to assist Kurtz. He mindlessly accepted everything that Kurtz was, and he went with it and moved on. It's almost as if his indifference to good and evil, though primarily evil, was the only thing that kept him alive. His purpose and objective has been dictated to him by Kurtz, and he survives the moral jungle as easily as he survives the actual one. All he is concerned about is his superior, regardless of character. Innocence is often depicted as being a sort of incorruptible invincibility, and Marlow attributes that to his existence. If he wasn't as strong-willed and wasn't along only for the ride, as it were, he would have ended up just as crazy as Kurtz. Of course, this isn't to say he's not troubled by it.
The Russian is a strange person in that he shifts between being exceedingly happy and then overwhelmingly depressed. His "innocence and adventure" seem to contribute to this behavior. What he suffers from is the desire to go on conflicting with his conscience. Though he accepts that Kurtz is corrupted, that doesn't mean he approves of it. He not only respects Kurtz but fears him as well. He seems to be understanding more and more that Kurtz is lost, but is too afraid to stop him from destroying himself. His conscience is telling him something is terribly wrong, but he also wants to see what Kurtz is capable of doing. He desperately wants to succeed with Kurtz, and as a result cannot himself step away from the jungle. He stays behind as well, now hooked on what Kurtz was hooked on, but for a different reason. He now wants to finish what Kurtz started. As a result, he is also doomed to the darkness. He is both afraid of it but at the same time is intrigued by it and wants to see it through to the end. He is eager to succeed but nervous of what lies ahead. His innocence seems to have created two personalities within him, expressive of his likely conflict of Kurtz's deeds and the surrounding darkness versus the great things yet to be done and the rewards that are sure to follow.
Marlow describes him as someone "ruled by the the spirit of adventure," and that Marlow actually envied him a little for it. The Russian more or less is able to live only because he's fascinated with moving along, to do more and to assist Kurtz. He mindlessly accepted everything that Kurtz was, and he went with it and moved on. It's almost as if his indifference to good and evil, though primarily evil, was the only thing that kept him alive. His purpose and objective has been dictated to him by Kurtz, and he survives the moral jungle as easily as he survives the actual one. All he is concerned about is his superior, regardless of character. Innocence is often depicted as being a sort of incorruptible invincibility, and Marlow attributes that to his existence. If he wasn't as strong-willed and wasn't along only for the ride, as it were, he would have ended up just as crazy as Kurtz. Of course, this isn't to say he's not troubled by it.
The Russian is a strange person in that he shifts between being exceedingly happy and then overwhelmingly depressed. His "innocence and adventure" seem to contribute to this behavior. What he suffers from is the desire to go on conflicting with his conscience. Though he accepts that Kurtz is corrupted, that doesn't mean he approves of it. He not only respects Kurtz but fears him as well. He seems to be understanding more and more that Kurtz is lost, but is too afraid to stop him from destroying himself. His conscience is telling him something is terribly wrong, but he also wants to see what Kurtz is capable of doing. He desperately wants to succeed with Kurtz, and as a result cannot himself step away from the jungle. He stays behind as well, now hooked on what Kurtz was hooked on, but for a different reason. He now wants to finish what Kurtz started. As a result, he is also doomed to the darkness. He is both afraid of it but at the same time is intrigued by it and wants to see it through to the end. He is eager to succeed but nervous of what lies ahead. His innocence seems to have created two personalities within him, expressive of his likely conflict of Kurtz's deeds and the surrounding darkness versus the great things yet to be done and the rewards that are sure to follow.
Heart of Darkness- Passage Analysis
On page 143 of Heart of Darkness (the book, of course, where HoD comes second) Kurtz rants a bit about the fact that he's being taken away from the jungle due to his illness:
"Save me! -save the ivory, you mean. Don't tell me. Save me! Why, I've had to save you. You are interrupting my plans now. Sick! Sick! Not so sick as you would like to believe. Never mind. I'll carry my ideas out yet -I will return. I'll show you what can be done. You with your peddling notices -you are interfering with me. I will return. I..."
Sheesh, he just can't shut up and save his strength, can he? Not in the jungle, at least. Well, it's obvious that he's that obsessed with his objective, that immersed in darkness, that he can't even see he's dying. He doesn't even think he'll be a bit weak during the voyage out. In fact, by his statement that he's "not as sick as they'd like to believe" he seems to convey the message that they'd prefer him to be on death's door. Though he actually is, he's more concerned about the ivory. He's convinced that Marlow and the rest of the people are here only to steal his ivory. Now, this actually has some basis, but Kurtz really doesn't know if it has any basis or not. He's simply paranoid and convinced the world's out to get him. He believes the others would want him to be deathly ill so they can get the vast fortune in ivory that he had amassed. Kurtz would rather remain in the jungle, ill, than to leave and risk the loss of his grand scheme. He realizes this later when he cries out how he's waiting to die. He realizes that he was that concerned with riches that he would have stayed in the jungle and died, that he fought those trying to rescue him. All he was worried about were his plans.
Kurtz also mentions how he was the one that was saving Marlow, not the other way around. He was that confident he was in control of the situation. He believed that he was the sole reason why the rescuers hadn't already been killed by the natives. He thinks he's the greatest hero of all for existing. This is emphasized when he crawls out and tries to go back into the jungle, and then threatens Marlow, only continuing to state how he had great plans. He was also carried out by the natives on a bed, as if he's the kind of person who would normally get such treatment. Kurtz has been treated like a god, more or less, by the natives, and that power has gone right to his head. He's convinced that he's invincible and that he commands the entire jungle, and he's going to do whatever's necessary to stay and continue his dominion over the overgrown depths. He certainly rules over more than one type of depths, that's for sure.
One other thing that he stresses is that he will return. He hasn't even begun to leave, yet he's already screaming how he won't be gone for long. He's dying, and all he can say is that he'll be back. Either he's quite the confident and optimistic fellow or his body's running off without his mind. I really don't think he even left that jungle, quite frankly. He was grabbing on to that darkness with everything he had. He wasn't going to leave, no matter what. This was his home. This is where he felt he belonged. Furthermore, he stressed that he'd show what CAN be done. Not what should be done, but what can be done. He isn't thinking of ethics or reasonable actions, only what he believed was physically possible. He was convinced that he'd rise higher and higher than where he already was. Again, it's either wishful thinking or an insatiable greed. And I doubt he's the kind of fellow who could look on the bright side without going blind. In fact, he's already blind. He's convinced that he can become richer, more powerful, more important...he's just eager for more. He doesn't know when to stop.
In short, this paragraph shows how crazy Kurtz is. Even as he lay dying, with others trying to rescue him, he's convinced that he's perfectly fine and that he's in command of the whole situation. He believes automatically that everyone's after his fortune in ivory, and that they all wish him dead. He's against the world, and that he will show them all up in time, when he returns home to the station in the center of the jungle. He has far more waiting for him on his return. Kurtz no longer wants the rest of the world. He just wants his ivory and his adoring natives. He wants that absolute power, and there isn't anything in the world that can get him away from that darkness. He's completely beyond any help.
"Save me! -save the ivory, you mean. Don't tell me. Save me! Why, I've had to save you. You are interrupting my plans now. Sick! Sick! Not so sick as you would like to believe. Never mind. I'll carry my ideas out yet -I will return. I'll show you what can be done. You with your peddling notices -you are interfering with me. I will return. I..."
Sheesh, he just can't shut up and save his strength, can he? Not in the jungle, at least. Well, it's obvious that he's that obsessed with his objective, that immersed in darkness, that he can't even see he's dying. He doesn't even think he'll be a bit weak during the voyage out. In fact, by his statement that he's "not as sick as they'd like to believe" he seems to convey the message that they'd prefer him to be on death's door. Though he actually is, he's more concerned about the ivory. He's convinced that Marlow and the rest of the people are here only to steal his ivory. Now, this actually has some basis, but Kurtz really doesn't know if it has any basis or not. He's simply paranoid and convinced the world's out to get him. He believes the others would want him to be deathly ill so they can get the vast fortune in ivory that he had amassed. Kurtz would rather remain in the jungle, ill, than to leave and risk the loss of his grand scheme. He realizes this later when he cries out how he's waiting to die. He realizes that he was that concerned with riches that he would have stayed in the jungle and died, that he fought those trying to rescue him. All he was worried about were his plans.
Kurtz also mentions how he was the one that was saving Marlow, not the other way around. He was that confident he was in control of the situation. He believed that he was the sole reason why the rescuers hadn't already been killed by the natives. He thinks he's the greatest hero of all for existing. This is emphasized when he crawls out and tries to go back into the jungle, and then threatens Marlow, only continuing to state how he had great plans. He was also carried out by the natives on a bed, as if he's the kind of person who would normally get such treatment. Kurtz has been treated like a god, more or less, by the natives, and that power has gone right to his head. He's convinced that he's invincible and that he commands the entire jungle, and he's going to do whatever's necessary to stay and continue his dominion over the overgrown depths. He certainly rules over more than one type of depths, that's for sure.
One other thing that he stresses is that he will return. He hasn't even begun to leave, yet he's already screaming how he won't be gone for long. He's dying, and all he can say is that he'll be back. Either he's quite the confident and optimistic fellow or his body's running off without his mind. I really don't think he even left that jungle, quite frankly. He was grabbing on to that darkness with everything he had. He wasn't going to leave, no matter what. This was his home. This is where he felt he belonged. Furthermore, he stressed that he'd show what CAN be done. Not what should be done, but what can be done. He isn't thinking of ethics or reasonable actions, only what he believed was physically possible. He was convinced that he'd rise higher and higher than where he already was. Again, it's either wishful thinking or an insatiable greed. And I doubt he's the kind of fellow who could look on the bright side without going blind. In fact, he's already blind. He's convinced that he can become richer, more powerful, more important...he's just eager for more. He doesn't know when to stop.
In short, this paragraph shows how crazy Kurtz is. Even as he lay dying, with others trying to rescue him, he's convinced that he's perfectly fine and that he's in command of the whole situation. He believes automatically that everyone's after his fortune in ivory, and that they all wish him dead. He's against the world, and that he will show them all up in time, when he returns home to the station in the center of the jungle. He has far more waiting for him on his return. Kurtz no longer wants the rest of the world. He just wants his ivory and his adoring natives. He wants that absolute power, and there isn't anything in the world that can get him away from that darkness. He's completely beyond any help.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Heart of Darkness- Reaction to the novel
This book is, I'd say, approximately 2.39 times as dense as the jungle it describes. I am sorry, but as good as the message is, the book is a little boring. I think we can all admit that. Not one of the most likable books I've read this year, though it definitely allows for in depth complicated analysis. As a result of this depth I am glad the book was not longer otherwise it would take way too long to completely decode. Even now I'm not quite sure I've got every little detail down. Okay, I likely don't get most of the little details and about a fifth of the big details. Still, it carries a good general overall message.
While I don't believe that everyone in the world can end up as maniacal and demented as Kurtz after a few months/years/seconds in some terrible place, I do believe that everyone has some degree of darkness within them that can manifest itself under the proper conditions. By this I mean that everyone has at least some part of them that when it comes out makes them at the very least a little cranky. Nobody's perfect, and everyone's got something in them that allows for grudge-holding, general irritation, and that urge to be a mischievous little bugger and do things that drive everyone else nuts. Others can be a little more severe and head genocides, harsh dictatorships, and even try to bring about the end of the world, but usually things aren't as bad as that. Look around the world. No, correction, look up the rest of the world via Internet, don't endanger yourselves by traveling the world, please don't. If you check, you will see that there are many places where crimes against humanity are committed, governments are corrupt, and crime soars. There might even be some examples here at home. Extreme examples, at least, the small ones are common everywhere. Darkness can be symbolic of any amount of hate towards other people, any will to do wrong to them. All people have it, whether they'd like to admit it or not.
Now, the one thing not mentioned in the book is the fact that all people have light in them as well. All people, even the most corrupt ones. Everyone has some degree of light, not necessarily proportional to the darkness. There is no secret formula to calculate it, all you need to know is that it's there somehow in some amount. All around the world, you hear those random acts of kindness? That's the light in people. Ebenezer Scrooge is a prime example of that light, and goes from being a complete @#$%@ to a kind and generous person under the proper circumstances. (i.e., being threatened by three spiritual beings) All people can become corrupted, but can also return to goodness. If they make a good effort. Heart of Darkness stresses that darkness is a cliff of no return, but in reality there is hope. Of course, it's a slim hope if you've really gone over the edge and are unwilling to change at heart. Scrooge changed because he was chicken and because he really didn't want to die, yet Kurtz perished due to the fact that he really would have just gone back to his old ways and he knew it. He chose to remain and die in darkness. One has to choose for himself. Or herself, my bad. And the choice must be made quickly, and definitely, because change can be exceedingly difficult. All people have that choice, and must choose wisely.
P.S. I can see this coming from a while away, NO comments on how Scrooge's name is spelled if it's wrong above.
While I don't believe that everyone in the world can end up as maniacal and demented as Kurtz after a few months/years/seconds in some terrible place, I do believe that everyone has some degree of darkness within them that can manifest itself under the proper conditions. By this I mean that everyone has at least some part of them that when it comes out makes them at the very least a little cranky. Nobody's perfect, and everyone's got something in them that allows for grudge-holding, general irritation, and that urge to be a mischievous little bugger and do things that drive everyone else nuts. Others can be a little more severe and head genocides, harsh dictatorships, and even try to bring about the end of the world, but usually things aren't as bad as that. Look around the world. No, correction, look up the rest of the world via Internet, don't endanger yourselves by traveling the world, please don't. If you check, you will see that there are many places where crimes against humanity are committed, governments are corrupt, and crime soars. There might even be some examples here at home. Extreme examples, at least, the small ones are common everywhere. Darkness can be symbolic of any amount of hate towards other people, any will to do wrong to them. All people have it, whether they'd like to admit it or not.
Now, the one thing not mentioned in the book is the fact that all people have light in them as well. All people, even the most corrupt ones. Everyone has some degree of light, not necessarily proportional to the darkness. There is no secret formula to calculate it, all you need to know is that it's there somehow in some amount. All around the world, you hear those random acts of kindness? That's the light in people. Ebenezer Scrooge is a prime example of that light, and goes from being a complete @#$%@ to a kind and generous person under the proper circumstances. (i.e., being threatened by three spiritual beings) All people can become corrupted, but can also return to goodness. If they make a good effort. Heart of Darkness stresses that darkness is a cliff of no return, but in reality there is hope. Of course, it's a slim hope if you've really gone over the edge and are unwilling to change at heart. Scrooge changed because he was chicken and because he really didn't want to die, yet Kurtz perished due to the fact that he really would have just gone back to his old ways and he knew it. He chose to remain and die in darkness. One has to choose for himself. Or herself, my bad. And the choice must be made quickly, and definitely, because change can be exceedingly difficult. All people have that choice, and must choose wisely.
P.S. I can see this coming from a while away, NO comments on how Scrooge's name is spelled if it's wrong above.
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Invisible Man- Symbol Analysis
One of the major symbols of Invisible Man is the briefcase the narrator carries around with him in the novel. The briefcase's purpose changes several times, and this also changes the meaning of the symbol slightly. In the beginning, the narrator obtains the briefcase at the battle royal. This grueling fight of black men versus black men, blinded and then electrocuted seems to stand as the distraction that keeps his mind away from the reality that he lives in. During the fight, he realized that the men in the arena shouldn't be fighting each other. They should instead be working together. However, at the end of the fight, he makes his speech and receives the briefcase. At this, he forgets everything he realized during the fight. He now is filled with false hopes and dreams, which he is willing to follow blindly even though he realized not even five minutes earlier that there was a more important issue at hand. Even after realizing the gold prizes on the electrified rug were fake, he still believes in the gold mine in his hands. The briefcase is a representation of the dream he wishes to live that will never come.
Later in the novel, as he prepares to leave Mary's house, he shatters a bank that is fashioned in the design of a black man that ate the coins put in his hands. The narrator destroys the racial insult and then, to cover up what he'd done, hides it in his briefcase. He hides it in with his former hopes and dreams. Perhaps this stands for the fact that he considers his former dreams just as offensive as the bank, that he perhaps finds his past and the people he used to know just as much of an insult as the bank. It could also stand for the idea that whatever his dreams will be, they will most likely contain prejudiced people with lots of money. This, of course, turned out to be true, as he later encountered the Brotherhood that soon betrayed him, and they can hardly be considered average folk considering the parties they held.
When the narrator later acquires Clifton's Dancing Sambo doll, he ends up eventually storing it in there as well. Again, he stores a racially insulting caricature in with what were his former hopes and dreams. By now the briefcase also contains the papers from the Brotherhood, such as his new name, his instructions, his work, and other things. This could be symbolic that his new hope is one of despair and prejudice, that he's actually chasing something that he should really be trying to avoid. Perhaps it might stand for the fact that the Brotherhood's inaction was what destroyed Clifton in the end, and sought then to erase him from history despite his sacrifice. Maybe it symbolizes the fact that Clifton's possible hopes and dreams were consigned to the same place, position, and importance, as the organization that had sorely disappointed and angered him.
Lastly, the briefcase was used as a weapon to escape Ras. This could be almost like saying that the events of his past, all of his former hopes and dreams gone sour and all the insults made against him, in the end strengthen him and allow him to escape the hatred of others. All the events of his past have empowered him, and he has learned from them well enough to move on and start again. Perhaps the fact that he used it against Ras's henchmen can be symbolic of who he really sees Ras helping.
One other thing of importance is the fact that the superintendent that awarded it to the narrator after the battle royal stating that it would at some point "be filled with important papers that will help shape the destiny of your people" (Ellison 32). The generous donor of such a destiny-bearing carrier? Shad Whitmore. No guesses as to what is implied by one with a name made up of the words "white" and "more." Obviously this is a nod to who controls the destiny of the narrator for the majority of the novel.
Later in the novel, as he prepares to leave Mary's house, he shatters a bank that is fashioned in the design of a black man that ate the coins put in his hands. The narrator destroys the racial insult and then, to cover up what he'd done, hides it in his briefcase. He hides it in with his former hopes and dreams. Perhaps this stands for the fact that he considers his former dreams just as offensive as the bank, that he perhaps finds his past and the people he used to know just as much of an insult as the bank. It could also stand for the idea that whatever his dreams will be, they will most likely contain prejudiced people with lots of money. This, of course, turned out to be true, as he later encountered the Brotherhood that soon betrayed him, and they can hardly be considered average folk considering the parties they held.
When the narrator later acquires Clifton's Dancing Sambo doll, he ends up eventually storing it in there as well. Again, he stores a racially insulting caricature in with what were his former hopes and dreams. By now the briefcase also contains the papers from the Brotherhood, such as his new name, his instructions, his work, and other things. This could be symbolic that his new hope is one of despair and prejudice, that he's actually chasing something that he should really be trying to avoid. Perhaps it might stand for the fact that the Brotherhood's inaction was what destroyed Clifton in the end, and sought then to erase him from history despite his sacrifice. Maybe it symbolizes the fact that Clifton's possible hopes and dreams were consigned to the same place, position, and importance, as the organization that had sorely disappointed and angered him.
Lastly, the briefcase was used as a weapon to escape Ras. This could be almost like saying that the events of his past, all of his former hopes and dreams gone sour and all the insults made against him, in the end strengthen him and allow him to escape the hatred of others. All the events of his past have empowered him, and he has learned from them well enough to move on and start again. Perhaps the fact that he used it against Ras's henchmen can be symbolic of who he really sees Ras helping.
One other thing of importance is the fact that the superintendent that awarded it to the narrator after the battle royal stating that it would at some point "be filled with important papers that will help shape the destiny of your people" (Ellison 32). The generous donor of such a destiny-bearing carrier? Shad Whitmore. No guesses as to what is implied by one with a name made up of the words "white" and "more." Obviously this is a nod to who controls the destiny of the narrator for the majority of the novel.
Invisible Man- Passage Analysis
One particularly interesting passage was the story the narrator overheard about Ras near the end of the book. Besides it being one of the funnier ones in the novel, it also gives as little insight into the crazy Ras the Destroyer. The passage details how Ras was charging around demanding that everyone rally up and destroy, I would assume, every last piece of white influence in the city. This demand is contrasted by the way the two people are talking about him. Ras is giving orders as to what everyone should be doing, as if he was in charge. He apparently seems to believe he's the destined leader of his people. The person telling the story stresses that it was a direct command. However, the two people seems to have little respect for him. Both refer to him as if he was a complete lunatic, which conveys an impression that the event really has nothing to do with Ras. This is backed up by the fact that someone else leaned out a window and joked at him. In response, Ras takes out a gun and begins blasting away up at the window. He really wants to be in control, but he really isn't. The people of the community could care less about him.
His appearance also seems to stress a backward leap for blacks. He dressed up as a tribal leader, with a lion skin on his back and a spear and shield in his hands. His additional riding of a black horse makes for an image of actual Africa, and even the storyteller remarks that his spear is "one of the kind you see them African guys carrying in the moving pictures" (Ellison 563). Ras seems obsesses with his alleged African roots, and combined with his behavior throughout the novel it becomes apparent that Ras really believes that the black race belongs more in Africa than in America. His actions seem to say that everything relative to the white man is offensive and dangerous to the black man, and that the white must be purged so the black can continue to live in the way he was meant. He even charges at armed police officers with the spear, rather than his gun. He seems eager to make a point.
Speaking of points, he sure seems to have gotten his across, or rather in, the police. During the attack on the police officers, he rears up his horse and then charges straight at them, and proceeds to spear them almost immediately on arrival. He manages to hit one down for sure, and then tears off to charge them again, only to be met by gunfire and then throws the spear before running off. The fact that his charge was that successful seems to state something. While in the middle of the cops, he attempted to use the spear while the cops attempted to pistol-whip him. The pistol punches were deflected by the shield, and the spear couldn't work up close, but they still continued to fight. They abandoned all reason and began to slap each other with brute strength. Rather than make an attempt to stop him on the first charge (because I highly doubt the police would not be able to see a large man with a spear and shield on a big black horse in the middle of the street) they perhaps even underestimated him? They weren't even able to kill him on the second charge, and whether or not the spear connected with anyone is unmentioned. Ras actually could claim this as a victory. This may be a statement about the underestimation of blacks by whites, it could be attempting to show that the police were less capable than a psychopath like Ras and really worthless, it might even be to say that the police were just as brutal as Ras considering they waited until he was up close to them before trying to pistol-whip him. And also, let's not forget the reference to the famous cowboy hero. Now that could very well mean that Ras, or someone as violent and fanatic as he, will soon return to vanquish his foes. A reminder that the violence will almost assuredly continue.
His appearance also seems to stress a backward leap for blacks. He dressed up as a tribal leader, with a lion skin on his back and a spear and shield in his hands. His additional riding of a black horse makes for an image of actual Africa, and even the storyteller remarks that his spear is "one of the kind you see them African guys carrying in the moving pictures" (Ellison 563). Ras seems obsesses with his alleged African roots, and combined with his behavior throughout the novel it becomes apparent that Ras really believes that the black race belongs more in Africa than in America. His actions seem to say that everything relative to the white man is offensive and dangerous to the black man, and that the white must be purged so the black can continue to live in the way he was meant. He even charges at armed police officers with the spear, rather than his gun. He seems eager to make a point.
Speaking of points, he sure seems to have gotten his across, or rather in, the police. During the attack on the police officers, he rears up his horse and then charges straight at them, and proceeds to spear them almost immediately on arrival. He manages to hit one down for sure, and then tears off to charge them again, only to be met by gunfire and then throws the spear before running off. The fact that his charge was that successful seems to state something. While in the middle of the cops, he attempted to use the spear while the cops attempted to pistol-whip him. The pistol punches were deflected by the shield, and the spear couldn't work up close, but they still continued to fight. They abandoned all reason and began to slap each other with brute strength. Rather than make an attempt to stop him on the first charge (because I highly doubt the police would not be able to see a large man with a spear and shield on a big black horse in the middle of the street) they perhaps even underestimated him? They weren't even able to kill him on the second charge, and whether or not the spear connected with anyone is unmentioned. Ras actually could claim this as a victory. This may be a statement about the underestimation of blacks by whites, it could be attempting to show that the police were less capable than a psychopath like Ras and really worthless, it might even be to say that the police were just as brutal as Ras considering they waited until he was up close to them before trying to pistol-whip him. And also, let's not forget the reference to the famous cowboy hero. Now that could very well mean that Ras, or someone as violent and fanatic as he, will soon return to vanquish his foes. A reminder that the violence will almost assuredly continue.
Invisible Man- Reaction to the Novel
This book receives a moderate reaction from me, compared to the other novels we have read. It lacks much in the way of entertainment, unlike Player Piano, but on the other hand is not filled with much material that would make a reader uneasy (at least not me) and is nowhere near as dense as, say, Heart of Darkness. The novel seems to be pretty well-written, serious enough to convey messages and inspire thought yet not so serious as to put one off literature. Of course, it does convey some disturbing attitudes based on race that may seem like ages ago, but really exist today in some degree or another.
Throughout the novel, there is a constant struggle of either identity or of race. Though really one could sometimes put the identity in with race. There have always been incidences where certain people view others in a different light due to skin color, or even don't view them at all. The anonymous narrator suffers from this as the Brotherhood frowns upon the individual work (and success) done by the narrator's actions and speeches. They attempt to forge him back squarely within their control, solely because he is black, because they wish for him to be their personal public image. They also, however, leave everything to him. He seems to be needed to be invisible only when prestige must be awarded, yet the popular face of the people when work needs to be done. Sounds much like slavery of the past. One could seem to liken it to today, when workers are pushed to the hardest degree to serve their companies, then left out of the final picture to deliver the most praise to the corporate heads. (I don't want to use the magic-elf metaphor, but basically that's what it is.) This happens not only due to race but any different social classes, when one group considers itself superior to another. Another prime example is the Japanese-American Nisei unit of World War II. Though it is credited with having been the most highly decorated unit in the army, it isn't widely known that the unit also participated in several important battles and is actually the group that liberated Dachau. They had to wait, though, for a white unit to "officially" liberate the camp. Needless to say, they receive no credit.
Throughout the novel, there is a constant struggle of either identity or of race. Though really one could sometimes put the identity in with race. There have always been incidences where certain people view others in a different light due to skin color, or even don't view them at all. The anonymous narrator suffers from this as the Brotherhood frowns upon the individual work (and success) done by the narrator's actions and speeches. They attempt to forge him back squarely within their control, solely because he is black, because they wish for him to be their personal public image. They also, however, leave everything to him. He seems to be needed to be invisible only when prestige must be awarded, yet the popular face of the people when work needs to be done. Sounds much like slavery of the past. One could seem to liken it to today, when workers are pushed to the hardest degree to serve their companies, then left out of the final picture to deliver the most praise to the corporate heads. (I don't want to use the magic-elf metaphor, but basically that's what it is.) This happens not only due to race but any different social classes, when one group considers itself superior to another. Another prime example is the Japanese-American Nisei unit of World War II. Though it is credited with having been the most highly decorated unit in the army, it isn't widely known that the unit also participated in several important battles and is actually the group that liberated Dachau. They had to wait, though, for a white unit to "officially" liberate the camp. Needless to say, they receive no credit.
However, there are a couple indications in the novel of a more prominent racism of today's age. NOTE!!!!!! I ask that you listen to the following statement! I am all for protection of and
rights to minorities, and do acknowledge that racism exists in the world! However...
During the eviction and the later chat with Brother Jack, and also with the Ras conversations, the belief that all white men are against the blacks is somewhat expressed. The woman's husband tries to tell her that the bank agent is responsible for the evictions, and not the men sent out to empty them from the house. She instead states that all the white men are against the blacks. Brother Jack takes offense when the narrator brings up race, and the great Destroyer also attempts to express the belief that true freedom comes without any sign of white around. (he emphasized this by hefting around a tribal spear and shield) There is a little bit of thought around today that the black people are fighting a tremendous battle against the white race. Again, I acknowledge that there is racism, but I highly doubt that it resides deep in the hearts of every human being. Lines are drawn a bit too thickly between black and white, and every other event regarding a black person injured or slighted seems to expose some racial plot against the black people. I think that perhaps the battle against a group of racists has evolved to a crusade against an entire race of people, and that not every case needs to be a racial struggle. If it's going to be the classic excuse that a man does not get a job or is arrested and convicted solely because he is black, then I believe that we may be entering a period where the prejudice is reversed. In this day and age, anyone who is white needs to carefully watch their mouths, because one wrong word will get them faced with an angry crowd, poor reputation, social cold shoulder, loss of position, and even legal action. (I am stressing this because I know this is a potentially sensitive area, I know that some situations are justified, but not every single one!) Seems to me like the same evil that was once done in the past is being done again today. Here's the question: is it just history repeating itself, or is it some form of self-justified vengeance?
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