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.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
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?
Saturday, December 8, 2007
Player Piano- Symbol or Theme
One of the things that I noticed in the novel was the usage of human beings as objects with which to further themselves or others. Yes, it did happen quite a bit. It seems that as humans become less important in running a society, their purpose dwindles from doing things to being things. There were quite a few instances where this happened.
Firstly, I'll discuss Paul and Bud Calhoun. Yes, I will go as far to say that Paul was using Bud Calhoun, and so was the entire system. Paul would simply go past him every now and then, and demand a new machine. He just took for granted Bud's abilities. He seemed more interested in success in business than what exactly Bud was doing. The system merely cranked out whatever he was thinking up. Eventually, Bud thought up something that put himself out of a job. There was nothing left to do after that. Though he likely walked into that one himself, neither Paul nor the system cared much or did anything to help prevent it or then fix it. They simply took his ideas and cranked them out, kicking more people out of jobs than before. Paul went to Bud indifferently, and when he left, there wasn't much of a large disturbance in Ilium at his dismissal. Even when he boarded the train later, Paul was already thinking of what Bud could do to improve the system, even though an old conductor was sitting beside him. Bud was merely a miracle invention machine.
Next, I'll discuss the reverse of that, and also Finnerty, Lasher, and Luke. The Ghost Shirts decided to use Paul as a figurehead for their operations. He really wasn't anything more than that, and they probably wouldn't mind killing him and thinking up something else. They just figured that this was the easy way out. The great Paul Proteus had become a name on a piece of paper. He was just going to be sitting there as the alleged but hardly the leader of the secret society. Of course, once his purpose was finished, who knows what they'd do with him. As the people began to grow less of an attachment to the machines, they sought to break away, but still saw Paul as merely an item, a tool to fix the overall machine. No better than the society that they just fled. Perhaps that's the proof that the rebellion was doomed to fail.
Anita and Kroner also used Paul quite a bit, the former more so than the latter. Anita saw Paul, without a doubt, as a trophy that would get her into the papers. She just wanted him to do every last little thing she desired, to get her everything she sought. (She more or less sought the world, but still she'd likely have asked Paul for that and then shoot for the moon to boot.) She threw a temper tantrum every time she didn't get her way, and sought to make Paul feel miserable afterwards. Her continual reminding of Pittsburgh is the most notable of her little obsession. Kroner also wanted to use Paul to find the Ghost Shirt society. For someone who was supposed to be a fatherly figure, he really appreciates a little go-for rather than a happy young man. If he could catch the Ghost Shirts, then he would be the friend of a national hero, and doubtless that would have at least three or four (hundred) perks when Paul climbed the success ladder. Such a loving family, pushing the one prodigal son through the fray so they could get a little bit of personal satisfaction. As the closest part of industrial America to Paul, these are most definitely the antagonists and symbols of corruption. Fitting that they would seek glory for themselves.
Also, for a change of pace, Halyard simply used the citizen Edgar Hagstrohm as an exhibit to show the Shah of Bratpuhr. Of course, when the exhibit wasn't as wonderful as planned he simply dragged the tour to another house and made himself at home. To Halyard, the people of America were separate shows to be aired whenever it was necessary to impress foreign visitors. He made no effort to express concern over the opinions or conditions of the families, he simply put them all on display. And, naturally, the show went wrong and the Shah was not impressed all too much. In response, the tour moved to another location; if one show doesn't work, go somewhere else, it's just a cheap show. Doctor Dodge entered with no intention of being friendly, and made it very clear to Edgar that he was only here to impress the Shah when Edgar asked for a handshake. The citizen of America is now no more than something to impress the neighbors with, and they'd better do a good job at it too. Edgar, of course, made effort to show that he wasn't there to just be used. This was important in reminding authority that they were dealing with a living human being. Despite being described as average, it was interesting how wrong the computer was at choosing this person as the best place to advertise to the Shah.
There's an awful lot of person-using-person here. It seems that, especially in the last case above, an automated society comes at the cost of individuality but also at the cost of basic human value. People are not just there to serve a purpose like a computer program. They are important in their own way, and need to be treated as more than just another object to be used as seen fit. Of course, a world run by computers and managers rarely concerns themselves with the importance of human value. All that's important is a bigger number and more progression down a path of educated guesses. The human being becomes nothing more than an obstacle to be manipulated at will.
Firstly, I'll discuss Paul and Bud Calhoun. Yes, I will go as far to say that Paul was using Bud Calhoun, and so was the entire system. Paul would simply go past him every now and then, and demand a new machine. He just took for granted Bud's abilities. He seemed more interested in success in business than what exactly Bud was doing. The system merely cranked out whatever he was thinking up. Eventually, Bud thought up something that put himself out of a job. There was nothing left to do after that. Though he likely walked into that one himself, neither Paul nor the system cared much or did anything to help prevent it or then fix it. They simply took his ideas and cranked them out, kicking more people out of jobs than before. Paul went to Bud indifferently, and when he left, there wasn't much of a large disturbance in Ilium at his dismissal. Even when he boarded the train later, Paul was already thinking of what Bud could do to improve the system, even though an old conductor was sitting beside him. Bud was merely a miracle invention machine.
Next, I'll discuss the reverse of that, and also Finnerty, Lasher, and Luke. The Ghost Shirts decided to use Paul as a figurehead for their operations. He really wasn't anything more than that, and they probably wouldn't mind killing him and thinking up something else. They just figured that this was the easy way out. The great Paul Proteus had become a name on a piece of paper. He was just going to be sitting there as the alleged but hardly the leader of the secret society. Of course, once his purpose was finished, who knows what they'd do with him. As the people began to grow less of an attachment to the machines, they sought to break away, but still saw Paul as merely an item, a tool to fix the overall machine. No better than the society that they just fled. Perhaps that's the proof that the rebellion was doomed to fail.
Anita and Kroner also used Paul quite a bit, the former more so than the latter. Anita saw Paul, without a doubt, as a trophy that would get her into the papers. She just wanted him to do every last little thing she desired, to get her everything she sought. (She more or less sought the world, but still she'd likely have asked Paul for that and then shoot for the moon to boot.) She threw a temper tantrum every time she didn't get her way, and sought to make Paul feel miserable afterwards. Her continual reminding of Pittsburgh is the most notable of her little obsession. Kroner also wanted to use Paul to find the Ghost Shirt society. For someone who was supposed to be a fatherly figure, he really appreciates a little go-for rather than a happy young man. If he could catch the Ghost Shirts, then he would be the friend of a national hero, and doubtless that would have at least three or four (hundred) perks when Paul climbed the success ladder. Such a loving family, pushing the one prodigal son through the fray so they could get a little bit of personal satisfaction. As the closest part of industrial America to Paul, these are most definitely the antagonists and symbols of corruption. Fitting that they would seek glory for themselves.
Also, for a change of pace, Halyard simply used the citizen Edgar Hagstrohm as an exhibit to show the Shah of Bratpuhr. Of course, when the exhibit wasn't as wonderful as planned he simply dragged the tour to another house and made himself at home. To Halyard, the people of America were separate shows to be aired whenever it was necessary to impress foreign visitors. He made no effort to express concern over the opinions or conditions of the families, he simply put them all on display. And, naturally, the show went wrong and the Shah was not impressed all too much. In response, the tour moved to another location; if one show doesn't work, go somewhere else, it's just a cheap show. Doctor Dodge entered with no intention of being friendly, and made it very clear to Edgar that he was only here to impress the Shah when Edgar asked for a handshake. The citizen of America is now no more than something to impress the neighbors with, and they'd better do a good job at it too. Edgar, of course, made effort to show that he wasn't there to just be used. This was important in reminding authority that they were dealing with a living human being. Despite being described as average, it was interesting how wrong the computer was at choosing this person as the best place to advertise to the Shah.
There's an awful lot of person-using-person here. It seems that, especially in the last case above, an automated society comes at the cost of individuality but also at the cost of basic human value. People are not just there to serve a purpose like a computer program. They are important in their own way, and need to be treated as more than just another object to be used as seen fit. Of course, a world run by computers and managers rarely concerns themselves with the importance of human value. All that's important is a bigger number and more progression down a path of educated guesses. The human being becomes nothing more than an obstacle to be manipulated at will.
Player Piano- Passage Analysis
I'll go with the play. Just because it's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. Just a little peculiar. The whole thing is obvious propaganda, and to me it was so blatantly pointless and false at first I had to read it again before I could even comprehend how the others could accept it and believe that the managers were saviors. Quite frankly, I'm not so sure I'd use it or something like it to a crowd unless it was significantly tweaked.
My complaints have to do with the fact that the focus of the prosecution was less focused on how the civilians felt rather than the physical numbers. Now, if there was no need to really buy anything then a drop in pay would seem a little less outrageous. However, if the prosecution focused more on the fact that there was a large drop in public image, that most of Americans were dissatisfied, that most people were not happy in the least, then it might have been a little more apparent that there was a bit of a problem at hand. There isn't any point in progress if the progress doesn't make the people happy. Unlike computers, humans have feelings. This is probably why the Star Manager forbid any emotional evidence, because everything looked better in numbers. God forbid the managers have to suffer from emotional dissent (or rather, a soul). Of course, the prosecution only whines that managers are paid more than workers. Weak.
On the other hand, the defense states a whole lot of numbers. Numbers, that's all. More fridges, TV's, cars, and automatic toilets, I'm sure, than the rest of the world. The only flaw with referencing Caesar in the defense's speech is that even the poorest feller in today's world is infinitely better than he would be hundreds of years ago. Public advancements are beneficial to everyone, and I sure would hope that we've improved technology since Caesar's time. The only real qualifier with an ancient ruler comparison is luxury, really. The ability to have these extra items, though, is nothing if the people don't really enjoy them. If progression was strictly numerical, in terms of what should make someone happy, then the Benefactor and Beatty ought to be celebrated as wonderful heroes. Moreover, Caesar had plenty of fun bossing his people around, throwing them to the lions and such, being a real leader. Quite frankly, he was probably happier than most of the people in that automated world of technological America. (Of course, the assassins put a minor damper on his leadership, but aside from that, he's probably laughing at Ilium.) This seems to stress that the only factor important in progress is if the numbers are bigger at the end of the process than at the beginning.
I also laugh at the statement that the boss of the managers is really John Averageman. That one was the biggest laugh in the entire comedy routine. I highly doubt that the consumer really concerns himself with dictating to the managers what should be made. The managers call for construction and then it is sold to us by hitting us over the head with a hammer until we buy buy buy buy buy. McDonald's sells us burgers; we did not ask for meat, cheese and veggies between bread to the response of a fast food chain scampering up, begging to grant them the privilege of feeding us. They sell burgers to us. End of fairy tale. When they think of something new, they tell us it's better and just buy the thing. Most of them try to show up other restaurants by adding their own spin on a classic, which sometimes is the spin that makes it trash. Furthermore, if the managers can brag that they're getting a bigger paycheck solely to produce more for the Averageman, I'll assume that these engineers pay for company projects out of pocket. If they are, that's reason #592 to get rid of the system because workers shouldn't be paying to work for someone. If they don't, then I'd love to find out where those rich engineers spend their thousands of dollars. Balls and dances? Country clubs? Grand cuisine and a wonderful cruise or two? Yeah, that really helps out John Averageman, enduring a cruise around the ocean. It would be so terrible if the engineers weren't happy enough to do their job.
Really, the whole play makes a weak argument from the prosecution and a load of rubbish from the defense. Materialistic improvements come at the expense of personal pride and entertainment, and that's really no improvement. Quite frankly, the whole thing is just a single reason for why there was even an automation revolution in the first place, and a poor excuse at that. Plus, the reasoning behind the bigger paycheck for engineers seems to stress the fact that something's not right. The fact that this was cheered so darn much makes you almost want to pity the poor fellas who have no clue how to run a country. Vonnegut really put a lot of emphasis on making this terribly ridiculous and obviously fake.
My complaints have to do with the fact that the focus of the prosecution was less focused on how the civilians felt rather than the physical numbers. Now, if there was no need to really buy anything then a drop in pay would seem a little less outrageous. However, if the prosecution focused more on the fact that there was a large drop in public image, that most of Americans were dissatisfied, that most people were not happy in the least, then it might have been a little more apparent that there was a bit of a problem at hand. There isn't any point in progress if the progress doesn't make the people happy. Unlike computers, humans have feelings. This is probably why the Star Manager forbid any emotional evidence, because everything looked better in numbers. God forbid the managers have to suffer from emotional dissent (or rather, a soul). Of course, the prosecution only whines that managers are paid more than workers. Weak.
On the other hand, the defense states a whole lot of numbers. Numbers, that's all. More fridges, TV's, cars, and automatic toilets, I'm sure, than the rest of the world. The only flaw with referencing Caesar in the defense's speech is that even the poorest feller in today's world is infinitely better than he would be hundreds of years ago. Public advancements are beneficial to everyone, and I sure would hope that we've improved technology since Caesar's time. The only real qualifier with an ancient ruler comparison is luxury, really. The ability to have these extra items, though, is nothing if the people don't really enjoy them. If progression was strictly numerical, in terms of what should make someone happy, then the Benefactor and Beatty ought to be celebrated as wonderful heroes. Moreover, Caesar had plenty of fun bossing his people around, throwing them to the lions and such, being a real leader. Quite frankly, he was probably happier than most of the people in that automated world of technological America. (Of course, the assassins put a minor damper on his leadership, but aside from that, he's probably laughing at Ilium.) This seems to stress that the only factor important in progress is if the numbers are bigger at the end of the process than at the beginning.
I also laugh at the statement that the boss of the managers is really John Averageman. That one was the biggest laugh in the entire comedy routine. I highly doubt that the consumer really concerns himself with dictating to the managers what should be made. The managers call for construction and then it is sold to us by hitting us over the head with a hammer until we buy buy buy buy buy. McDonald's sells us burgers; we did not ask for meat, cheese and veggies between bread to the response of a fast food chain scampering up, begging to grant them the privilege of feeding us. They sell burgers to us. End of fairy tale. When they think of something new, they tell us it's better and just buy the thing. Most of them try to show up other restaurants by adding their own spin on a classic, which sometimes is the spin that makes it trash. Furthermore, if the managers can brag that they're getting a bigger paycheck solely to produce more for the Averageman, I'll assume that these engineers pay for company projects out of pocket. If they are, that's reason #592 to get rid of the system because workers shouldn't be paying to work for someone. If they don't, then I'd love to find out where those rich engineers spend their thousands of dollars. Balls and dances? Country clubs? Grand cuisine and a wonderful cruise or two? Yeah, that really helps out John Averageman, enduring a cruise around the ocean. It would be so terrible if the engineers weren't happy enough to do their job.
Really, the whole play makes a weak argument from the prosecution and a load of rubbish from the defense. Materialistic improvements come at the expense of personal pride and entertainment, and that's really no improvement. Quite frankly, the whole thing is just a single reason for why there was even an automation revolution in the first place, and a poor excuse at that. Plus, the reasoning behind the bigger paycheck for engineers seems to stress the fact that something's not right. The fact that this was cheered so darn much makes you almost want to pity the poor fellas who have no clue how to run a country. Vonnegut really put a lot of emphasis on making this terribly ridiculous and obviously fake.
Player Piano- Reaction to the Novel
Trying to keep this short, I'll say that I preferred this book over a few of the others read in class, primarily because of the wit and humor in the novel. I find the jokes, though dry, dark, and dreary, add a great deal of entertainment to the novel. The ironic twists and turns were well placed, and kept me interested to a greater extent than the other novels. And I will also say that this ending was one of the better ones in the sense that it did not just suddenly drop off with no hint of the future. It would certainly be better if the ending was a tad more hopeful, yet that not only isn't Vonnegut's style and would be terribly out of place, the novel still concludes slowly enough to wrap up all loose ends without simply dropping off as it did in Handmaid' Tale or ending abruptly as in We. It was pretty good, I feel.
It's also frighteningly accurate. There are so many different things that technology is capable of doing today that human effort is becoming unnecessary and the way of the past. Just about everything can be done without human beings, and eventually they won't be needed. ATM's, checkout lines, packaging and shipping, assembly lines...pretty soon the only thing people will be needed for is to fix a small kink in the system. Soon people may only be unnecessary beings wandering the earth with nothing to do. Even if you had all the time in your life to yourself, it'd get pretty darn boring. There'd be nothing to do. The only thing that makes vacations (say, for example, Christmas break in 2 weeks) so fun and wonderful is that you've been toiling away incessantly for an eternity. Now you want to enjoy yourself, and you can. This world would bore you eventually, and most likely sooner than you'd ever dream, and with nothing to do you'll spend most of your life in absolute boredom. It'll be Fahrenheit 451, only with books. Miserable.
However, there is one glimmer of hope: this sure won't happen in our lifetimes. Technology, I've found, is wonderfully unreliable. It'll take at least 20 years, more likely 25, to perfect computers. They always crash or catch cold or do something weird. It'll take longer than that for mankind to perfect systems for everything else. And by that time, there'll be some arrogant punk who's figured out some way to break the new toys with the push of a button, and the whole process of creating a system will begin again. There's a far better chance of us figuring out how to live on Mars rather than to make a completely automatized world. A TV show once detailed how in 50 years they'll have perfected hovercars and will have a networking system built into our body so someone can personally monitor our health every second of the day. Alternative fuel hasn't been completely figured out yet, much less put into action to a large degree, and I doubt the anti-gravity measures will be easily calculated. And considering how bad computers are, I highly doubt that super network in our body will ever run even half the time at 50% efficiency. We all think that such a world is possible, but I know from experience that things take a lot longer to do than originally intended. They're also a tad tougher. If we ever reach that stage where our lives are completely automated, I will be thoroughly shocked and impressed. I really don't think that it's possible to achieve such a level of automation so quickly. We're still only beginning to improve technology, and there's so much that we haven't even dreamed of doing yet. A number of these dreams are right in this book.
It's also frighteningly accurate. There are so many different things that technology is capable of doing today that human effort is becoming unnecessary and the way of the past. Just about everything can be done without human beings, and eventually they won't be needed. ATM's, checkout lines, packaging and shipping, assembly lines...pretty soon the only thing people will be needed for is to fix a small kink in the system. Soon people may only be unnecessary beings wandering the earth with nothing to do. Even if you had all the time in your life to yourself, it'd get pretty darn boring. There'd be nothing to do. The only thing that makes vacations (say, for example, Christmas break in 2 weeks) so fun and wonderful is that you've been toiling away incessantly for an eternity. Now you want to enjoy yourself, and you can. This world would bore you eventually, and most likely sooner than you'd ever dream, and with nothing to do you'll spend most of your life in absolute boredom. It'll be Fahrenheit 451, only with books. Miserable.
However, there is one glimmer of hope: this sure won't happen in our lifetimes. Technology, I've found, is wonderfully unreliable. It'll take at least 20 years, more likely 25, to perfect computers. They always crash or catch cold or do something weird. It'll take longer than that for mankind to perfect systems for everything else. And by that time, there'll be some arrogant punk who's figured out some way to break the new toys with the push of a button, and the whole process of creating a system will begin again. There's a far better chance of us figuring out how to live on Mars rather than to make a completely automatized world. A TV show once detailed how in 50 years they'll have perfected hovercars and will have a networking system built into our body so someone can personally monitor our health every second of the day. Alternative fuel hasn't been completely figured out yet, much less put into action to a large degree, and I doubt the anti-gravity measures will be easily calculated. And considering how bad computers are, I highly doubt that super network in our body will ever run even half the time at 50% efficiency. We all think that such a world is possible, but I know from experience that things take a lot longer to do than originally intended. They're also a tad tougher. If we ever reach that stage where our lives are completely automated, I will be thoroughly shocked and impressed. I really don't think that it's possible to achieve such a level of automation so quickly. We're still only beginning to improve technology, and there's so much that we haven't even dreamed of doing yet. A number of these dreams are right in this book.
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