A STATELY OAK: SPENSERIAN STANZA CREATION AND ANALYSIS
As when a stately oak, once thick and proud,
Succumbs in time to termite’s slow disease,
Where rots hangs o’er the air like deathly shroud
And seeks to choke the roots by small degrees,
Foul holes within the trunk run through the tree’s
Insides, and seeks its vigor to undo,
So when the midnight storm with rain-blown breeze
Would shake the timber with each gust he blew,
He’d marvel at the ease with which he had o’erthrew.
From the first encounter of Book 1 when Red Cross Knight encountered Error, each adversary our protagonist knight faces off with has received at least one stanza of extended analogy. The images are often of fierce and terrible animals (Griffin and Dragon, two prideful rams, lion and unicorn), but the source can also be mythological (Jove, Cerberus) or natural (the River Nilus, the raging ocean, a falling mountain). The images are evocative and cinematic but more than that, they offer deeper insight to the nature of the characters and give motives for why they’re fighting.
In that vein, one of the most pivotal encounters of Book 1 didn’t receive the signature Spenserian analogy stanza, that being when RCK is almost succumbs to hopelessness and despair at the hands of Despair (I.ix.48). This could be because it wasn’t a traditional “fight” with steel on steel, but it was a striking ideological battle and the absolute lowest and weakest we will see RCK. Frail and emaciated, he had been recently rescued from the brink of death from imprisonment in the dungeon of Orgoglio, but hadn’t yet physically or mentally recovered from the experience. Adding an analogy stanza in his encounter with Despair both recalls that this is a battle (ideological) and highlights the importance of this critical turning point in the redemption arc of RCK. This is the last time we see RCK seriously grapple with his faith and reconciliation with his past mistakes and sins.
In the stanza, I depicted RCK as a large and majestic oak tree, but one that had become infested with termites gnawing away at him inside to represent the guilt, shame, and sins the knight has accumulated up until this point. So much of the interior wood has been consumed that it has begun outwardly manifesting, as the tree can no longer get sufficient nutrients to its leaves. The termites also leave structural damage to the trunk, and the once un-movable great oak tree now sways and crackles dangerously in the midst of a storm with winds and rain. RCK, in his current weakened mental and spiritual state, cannot withstand the outside trials and tribulations, and is in danger of completely splintering at the base and crashing onto the forest floor. It is only with Una’s intervention that RCK leaves Despair’s cave alive and seeks help. The last lines of the stanza were meant to tie in with the stanza directly following, where Despair is amazed that RCK’s thoughts are driving him to the knife’s edge – the storm (personified with “he”) is marveling at the ease in which he can crack and possibly topple the once great oak. It’s a moment of perceived power on one side, systematic weakness on the other, and the bated anticipation of who will prevail.
NATURE, ART, AND ARTIFICE OF THE BOWER OF BLISS IN THE FAERIE QUEENE
Luyou Sun (lws489), E349S, Essay #1
The world in The Faerie Queene is a distorted reflection of England, where reality is always juxtaposed with what seems to be, and our perceptions are constantly tested and misled. In the perversion of the real, there is a drive to reinvent or perfect nature. In Book Two of The Faerie Queene by Edmund Spenser, the balance of nature within the Bower of Bliss is upset through art’s uncanny mimicry, but though the effect created is extremely convincing, the essence of the garden’s creation will never allow for it to be perfectly identical to nature. We will examine the stanza in sections, starting with the beckoning first impression, assurance of the harmony between elements of the Bower, description of the garden’s contents, a single stanza that deepens existing unease and alarm, and finally the eerie pulling back of the veil in the concluding alexandrine.
The entryway leading up the the central garden within the Bower is laden with temptations like gilded grapes, rich wine, and beautiful landscaping. In these areas, though some grapes are “of burnished gold/ So made by art, to beautify the rest” (II.xii.55.1-2), the gilded grapes exist mainly to magnify the temptation of the regular grapes. This seeming symbiotic relationship between nature and art withers when we reach the main garden. The entrance begins with the same feeling of the grapevine-covered gate; each element of the garden seems to harmonize perfectly with one another, where “all pleasures plenteously abownd/ And none does others happinesse enuye” (II.xii.58.3-4). The description is of an absolutely idyllic escape tucked inside the gates of the Bower of Bliss with tall trees, greenery, and a running stream — a true locus amoenus. Or, it would seem that way, until the descriptive language of the stanza is more closely examined.
The first hint that something is strange in this garden comes with the opening line. Described as “the most daintie Paradise on ground” (II.xii.58.1), the Bower of Bliss is positively compared to the Garden of Eden, but the adjective “dainty,” usually meaning excellence, here also hints towards delicacy. Being frequently invoked in overindulgent feasts of “dainty meats” by gluttonous or wicked characters, “dainty” can also be defined as “tempting or luxurious” (“dainty”, def. 3), where the Bower’s beauty is deliberate and made solely for the wanton consumption of gazing eyes. The next line makes this explicit, where the garden enticingly “it self doth offer”(II.xii.58.2) up its bounty. The garden is described with an active verb of offering, displaying its beauty in a way that directly tempts people passing by to wonder and partake of its beauty, and possibly to completely succumb.
The unease continues in lines five through seven describing the contents of the landscape, where the painted flowers are clearly unnatural, being hybrid flowers made by man. The descriptor “painted” connects the flowers explicitly to art, with alternate definitions tying the flowers to something “designed or decorated” (“painted”, def. 1). On the surface level, the “trees vpshooting hye/ The dales for shade, the hilles for breathing space/ The trembling groues, the christall running by” (II.xii.58.5-7) are all untouched by artifice, described as vibrant and with an exuberant sense of movement. However, the initial sense of freedom dissipates in the realization that the Bower is an inherently enclosed space, and the dynamic language now becomes stifled and strained. The plants are moving, but all of them are growing further from the ground or exhibiting subtle imagery of fear like trembling, running, or hiding (from the sun) in alternative, secondary definitions. The clarity of the stream, oftentimes used to describe purity, is distorted with the loose sensual pleasures of the naked maidens and fountain covered in motifs of lascivious boys sharing space with it. Carefully created, cultivated and arranged for sublime beauty, the plants within the Bower of Bliss can never grow wild and free as nature intended, but strain in futility to do so.
In the last two lines of the stanza, we learn “that, which all faire workes doth most aggrace/ The art, which all that [garden] wrought, appeared in no place” (II.xii.58.8-9; emphasis added). “Aggrace” implies to light upon an existing work, and it is defined in the Oxford English Dictionary as “to add grace, to grace” (v) (“aggrace,” def. 1). “Wrought”, on the other hand, is characterized by “creating, making, or forming something” (adj) (“wrought,” def. 3), and it is now clear that the inner garden in the Bower of Bliss is completely feigned. As we travel towards the heart of the Bower, cunning artifice has quietly deposed nature and taken its place. The final result is imperceptible to the eye without the explicit declaration by the narrator, but there is still an unplaceable feeling of unease throughout. Alternatively, “wrought” can also be read as “to perpetrate (evil, an evil or harmful deed); to commit (a sin or crime)” (“wrought, def 1b). In this interpretation, God’s natural creations are wickedly imitated, a grave affront to Christianity worthy of condemnation and later, righteous destruction. This reading would suggest the artificiality of the Bower of Bliss is a dangerous perversion of the natural world that God created, with mortals attempting to improve on divine creation. In either interpretation, the jarring, sinister realization that the entire garden is unnatural provides us with uncomfortable elements that further add to the general unease of this otherwise seeming earthly paradise.
The entrance to the main garden begins unassumingly, only to reveal through degrees that no longer does art serve to merely enhance natural beauty — it has completely manufactured everything past the inner gate of the Bower of Bliss. Information is constantly presented to us and then revealed to be misleading. The inorganic materials were created by design to usurp the job of nature, and not only to closely resemble its predecessor, but to be the more perfect version of it. In that way, the Bower of Bliss provides the perfect backdrop to the wanton wickedness of Acrasia where she and the Bower itself both seek to entrap and beguile with beauty disguising dangerous predatory undertones. Mattison touches on this in “The Indescribable Landscape: Water, Shade, and Land in the Bower of Bliss,” comparing landscapes with a prism, distorting, reflecting, and magnifying the commentary on the themes of the poem at large. In this place, no authenticity to be found, and in the aspiration to be the earthly equivalent of Paradise, the garden necessarily falls short due to being created from artifice instead of natural means. In the end, the Bower of Bliss can never fully succeed in creating a perfect imitation of “Paradise on ground” (II.xii.58.1) because the nature of its creation will always taint it with a sense of uncanny, unable to be shaken off no matter how perfect an counterfeit it can put forth.
Bibliography
“aggrace, n.1.” OED Online, Oxford University Press, March 2019, www.oed.com/viewdictionaryentry/Entry/11125. Accessed 8 March 2019.
“painted, adj. 1.” OED Online, Oxford University Press, March 2019, www.oed.com/viewdictionaryentry/Entry/11125. Accessed 8 March 2019.
“wrought, v.1.” OED Online, Oxford University Press, March 2019, www.oed.com/viewdictionaryentry/Entry/11125. Accessed 8 March 2019.
Mattison, Andrew. “The Indescribable Landscape: Water, Shade, and Land in the Bower of Bliss.” ProQuest, University of Chicago Press, 2010, search.proquest.com/docview/1689337719/fulltext/3D4F948FEC714CFBPQ/1?accountid=7118.
Spenser, Edmund, and Humphrey Tonkin. The Faerie Queene. Routledge, 2014.
PASTORAL ABUNDANCE, LOVE, AND DESIRE IN FRIAR BACON AND FRIAR BUNGAY
Luyou Sun, E 361, Essay #1, Topic #5
There is a strong association between pastoral abundance and love in Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay. The prosperity of England is intrinsically tied with the rich plenty of the countryside’s fertile land and forests. Likewise, Margaret’s representation as an ideal, wholesome English yeoman woman is also connected with the association of the prosperity of the idyllic landscape around her, and she never appears in the play without some reference to her connection with milk, butter, and cheese. We will explore the connection in Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay between both romantic rivalries and how they relate to the agricultural bounty as symbols of concord and discord, invitation and reconciliation.
At the opening of the play, Edward is enjoying recreational hunting, eating “fat venison” (1.8) and enjoying the “tossing of ale and milk in country cans” (1.14). The joyous and generous bounty of the countryside provides a contrast to the lovesick dejection of the prince. “Discussing this melancholy, [Lord Lacy] suggested a qualm crossed his stomach… [but] the ‘dish’ that caused this qualm is not one that he has eaten, but one that he wishes to partake of – Margaret” (Cary, 154). Edward’s fetishization of Margaret is inherently tied to food, when “amongst the cream bowls she did shine/ as Pallas… she turned her smock over her lily arms/ and dived them into milk to run her cheese/ but, whiter than the milk, her crystal skin” (1. 75-79). White is classically tied to chastity and purity, and frequently women are more white than things of the same color, as in the depiction of the Faerie Queene’s Una, the personification of truth and innocence, sitting upon “a lowly asse more white than snow/ yet she much whiter…” (Spenser, 1.1.4.2-3). The image of Margaret’s pure and unsullied beauty, compared to a virginal goddess, is twisted in this scene to show Edward’s lust.
To secure Margaret, Edward’s band resolves to solicit Friar Bacon “to wean these headstrong puppies from the teat” (1.129), forcing Margaret to give up her chaste ideals and give herself to Edward, ripping the pup from their mother’s milk. Using Rafe as a sieve through with Edward’s true motives are revealed, the prince’s feelings are shown clearly after Edwards grand speech professing love for Margaret when Rafe asks if Ned would “fain have her” (1.87) and Edward affirms. In this case, the prince winning and having the milkmaid are synonymous — the goal is sex, not marriage. The nature of the relationship between Edward and Margaret is always framed as one of conquest rather than equality, and Edward ominously remarks to that end, “Peggy, I will have thy loves; Edward or none shall conquer Margaret” (8.51).
In stark contrast to Edward, Lacy treats Margaret as more than something to be won, and his thoughts and intentions lack the predatory undertones Edward’s speeches had. When Margaret asks “what love is there where wedding ends not love” (6.119), Lacy tells her explicitly and clearly that “I mean… to make thee Lacy’s wife” (6.120). Lacy is aware that Edward’s “wooing is not for to wed the girl/ But to entrap her and beguile the lass/ Lacy, thou lov’st, then brook not such abuse/ But wed her, and abide thy prince’s frown/ For better die than see her live disgrac’d” (6. 61-62). The strength and sincerity of Lacy’s convictions are shown when the couple is apprehended by Edward and threatened with death, and each plea to spare the other, and in doing so, damn themselves. Lacy is true in his feelings for Margaret because he is willing to disregard his prince’s command to entrap her, has intentions of marriage, and doesn’t fetishize her pastoral purity and virginity like Edward does.
The end of the confrontation between Edward and Lacy is sealed with the offer and acceptance of a meal, where “we shall have butter, cheese, and venison/ And… a lusty bottle of near claret wine/ This can we feast and entertain Your Grace” (8. 157-159). Here, food symbolizes reconciliation, as it does after Lacy and Margaret reunite, where Margaret offers “butter and cheese, and humbles of a deer/ Such as poor keepers have within their lodge” (14.108-109) with the possibility that “we shall have more/ For [Margaret] speaks least, to hold her promise sure” (14.114). In both reconciliation scenes in the play, after the high emotions of the situation are pacified, characters share a meal together to cement their reunited, stronger relationship. In a similar vein, food can also be a way to bring people together. Margaret realizes she fancies Lacy, but is careful not to “disclose not that thou art in love/ And show as yet no sign of love to him” (3.70-71). Keeping her cards close to her chest, Margaret extends an offering for the “Beccles Man” to “step into the Keeper’s lodge/ And such poor fare as woodmen can afford/ Butter and cheese, cream and fat venison/ You shall have store, and welcome therewithal” (3.78-82). Here, simple pastoral food is again explicitly tied to the coming together of two people, where the simplicity of the fare mirrors the wholesome love Margaret harbors for Lacy. Though she and her father have little to offer, they generously and willingly share what they have with those they care for.
The yeoman in the play represent what should be the lot in life for someone of her station, with her friend Joan contentedly remarking to Margaret, “a farmer’s daughter for a farmer’s son!/ I warrant you, the meanest of us both/ Shall have a mate to lead us from the church” (27-29). This statement, grounded in reasonable assumptions about class, is almost comical when compared with Margaret’s situation, where she is known throughout the land as an exceptional beauty, and “great lords have come and pleaded for my love/ Who but the Keeper’s lass of Fressingfield” (3.66-67). With the knowledge of past solicitations in mind, the competition for the milkmaid between two nobles and two lords is less unusual. Fellow yeoman courting her is normal and not even worthy of mention, it is expected that if men of great power desire her, she is universally desired.
Her beauty and character are also why suitors seek her in pairs. The integral association between desire and competition manifests in the nobles as well as the rivalry of Lambert and Serlsby, both middle-class landowners with substantial countryside to their names. Serlsby attempts to entice Margaret with “meads environ’d with the silver streams/ Whose battling pastures fatteneth all my flocks/ Yielding forth fleeces stapled with such wool” (10.58-60) while Lambert offers “lands that wave with Ceres’ golden sheaves/ Filling my barns with plenty of the fields” (10.66-67). For the first time in the play, pastoral abundance are used as ammunition for conflict. That the suitors come in pairs of two highlights the desirous nature of Margaret as the best that the countryside has to offer, as she is chaste, remarkably learned, and the most beautiful woman in all of England.
Margaret’s combination of honest yeomanlike qualities and unattainable levels of virtue indicate that she is not a typical everyman placeholder for the audience to insert themselves into the play. Instead, she is a representative figure of the idealization of virtuous British yeoman values: the embodiment of the hearty and virtuous English woman as well as a symbol of the great abundance of an idealized England’s countryside, worthy of nobility.
Bibliography
Bevington, David M., et al. Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay. English Renaissance Drama: a Norton Anthology. W.W. Norton, 2003.
Cary, Cicile Williamson. “The Iconography of Food and the Motif of World Order in ‘Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay.’” ProQuest, 1979, ezproxy.lib.utexas.edu/login?url=https://search.proquest.com/docview/2152344035?accountid=7118. Accessed 25 Feb. 2019.
Spenser, Edmund, and Humphrey Tonkin. The Faerie Queene. Routledge, 2014.
CENSORSHIP IN “DON’T ASK ME FOR THAT LOVE AGAIN”
Luyou Sun
6/26/2015
E 314L Banned Books and Novel Ideas
The Role Censorship plays in “Don’t Ask Me for that Love Again” by Faiz Ahmad Faiz
In the poem “Don’t Ask Me for that Love Again” by Faiz Ahmad Faiz, the author uses the metaphor of a lover to symbolize the state of censorship. By discussing Faiz’s own explanation for his symbolism in poetry and then doing a close reading of the text, larger implications about the message to the reader can be drawn. Faiz means for the poem to encourage readers to avoid self-censoring to ignore societal issues.
When Faiz was confined to solitary imprisonment without tools to write with, he composed “qit‘as”, a four-line rhymed form that he could memorize and recite. (Omaid 2014) Even when he was able to have the poems transcribed into writing, Faiz’s works were subject to rigorous censorship when transported outside of the prison. Faiz was forced to “develop a covert system of images and metaphors, often drawn from the traditional forms of Persian and Urdu poetry that would seem harmless to the unthinking eyes of the censors” (Omaid 2014). Omaid further states that on March 12, 1984, less than six months before he died, Faiz revealed something of this private cosmology when he addressed the Asian Study Group at the British Council in Lahore. The left-leaning newspaper the Dawn reported that although he was “ostensibly lecturing on the cultural and social background of the classical ghazal and the evolution of contemporary Urdu literary movements,” Faiz instead seemed to be laying out “a discourse on the subtle art of evading censorship.”
In the lecture, Faiz contended that an entire range of symbols evoked in the Urdu ghazal have transcended successive historical periods, each time acquiring new meanings to reflect changing political, economic and social realities. Faiz then demonstrated why traditional symbols like chaman (garden), sanam (idol), sayyaad (captor) and qafas (prison) are valid today and how they can be used as a means of escaping censorship. He said that when a poet speaks of ehd-i- junoon (period of obsession) or chaman ki udasi (sorrow of the garden) he or she is actually referring to oppression and injustice. Thus, the poet has left a partial key to unlocking the complicated imagery of his most lyric poems.
Understanding the background to Faiz’s poetry, we examine the poem “Don’t Ask Me for that Love Again” with the intention of reading for symbolism and how censorship is reflected in it. The poem begins with a request in the first two lines of the poem: “that which then was ours, my love/ don’t ask me for that love again” (1-2). The poem’s intended audience seems to be a romantic interest, and the poem begins with a rejection, or at least, resignation. The man recalls back to how he viewed the world in the past when he was first enamored with her, where everything was “gold, burnished with light/ and only because of you” (3-4). Even when he caught disturbing snippets of “protests/ these rumors of injustice” (7), he was enraptured in her. Faiz ends the paragraph by comparing her face and eyes to the earth, where his love had become something that literally sustained him.
A glimpse of your face was evidence of springtime
the sky, wherever I looked, was nothing but your eyes.
If you’d fall into my arms, Fate would be helpless. (8-10)
The speaker believed that with her, he could hold captive not only elements of nature, but also his own future. At this point in time, he did not see the problems and sorrows of the world around him (6); the speaker was unable to even comprehend, much less weep for any other sorrows than hers. The power of love held him captive, unaware of the suffering around him. It was a seemingly willing union, but also a stifling one, where he only cared about gazing upon her and did not notice the world around him.
The second stanza of the poem begins a transition into truth. The poet tells us that all of what he told before, he really did believe (11), but that “there were other sorrows, comforts other than love” (12). The speaker, having summarized his new way of thinking, proceeds to explain why this is. The threads begin to unravel before him, and he looks upon the problems of his contemporary society: where
The rich had cast their spell on history
dark centuries had been embroidered on brocades and silks
bitter threads began to unravel before me
as I went into alleys and in open markets. (13-16)
By using the phrasing that the rich had “cast a spell” on history, it is almost as if the rich had gained their power through witchcraft. The centuries are described as dark, and that time itself had been sewn onto brocades and silks for some sort of frivolous, futile decoration. As the speaker journeys through the alleys and markets of his home, he begins to understand that he had been ignoring the problems right under his nose, and the realization is grim and bitter. He walks on.
[I] saw bodies plastered with ash, bathed in blood
I saw them sold and bought, again and again
this too deserves attention.”
Faiz addresses several issues like unhealthy working conditions in factories, prostitution, and general destitution of the poor working class in Pakistan in this poem. The images of the strewn and charred bodies and filth of the streets press into the speaker, and he now realizes that he made a mistake. Faiz uses words that are commonly associated with progress and cleanliness to symbolize the amount of squalor that these people lived in. The bodies were completely caked with ash to the point that they were being plastered on like mortar to a new house. Likewise, bathing is usually associated with hygiene and privilege, but it is twisted around to symbolize violence, horror, death. Faiz is likely speaking here about the horrible working conditions that the poor endured, and the selling and purchasing of bodies could be referencing people prostituting themselves out of desperation. The entire scene is one of misery and sorrow, and the speaker, seeing these things now, “can’t help but look back/ when I return from those alleys – what should one do?/ and you are still so ravishing – what should I do?” (19-21) The speaker seems to be pleading with his lover, but the question is mostly rhetorical. The speaker realizes that he cannot help but look back when he returns, and the illusion of the world being inhabited only by him and his lover is irreparably damaged. The speaker must now make a choice between the two.
Faiz now makes the speaker confront the fact that the love that he shared with this woman made him blind to the problems of the world around him. Now having seen the state of the world he lives in but only now saw for what it truly was, the speaker must choose between the two. The beginning of the poem painted their world to be a golden cage, where even if the bars are gold, they still keep him in. The speaker remained blissfully ignorant to society due to his world being “burnished with light” (3). The speaker finally recognizes that he cannot go back to the way it once was, and he summarizes by addressing his love, with finality:
there are other sorrows in this world
comforts other than love
don’t ask me, my love, for that love again” (22-24).
The poem ends with an understanding that things can never be the same; that even love cannot blot out the troubles of the world, and that instead of censoring himself from them, now knowing they exist, he must go out to meet them. It is important to note here that the speaker does not make it a hard choice between society and love, but rather, specifies he cannot give “that love”, the one with all-consuming powers that blocked out everything else. Besides the literal meaning that the speaker will no longer be consumed by a completely engrossing love, the poem also addresses people who are similarly consumed by something. To be so taken with something that you do not see the poverty and pain around you is unhealthy and Faiz suggests that they should, like the lover, be put back into perspective, behind the problems of the society you live in.
In “Don’t Ask Me for that Love Again,” at first glance, Faiz seems to write about a simple lover and his love, and journeying down a street. When we look at it from the perspective as the choice between willingly censoring the world from himself and making the hard choice to recognize and to try to remedy the problems of the society, it becomes less a poem about romantic love and more about symbolizing the difference between willful ignorance and facing the truth. If the poet had chosen to return to his lover and blot out the cries of those around him, it would have been willingly and with self-censorship. With sorrow, he recognizes that now he sees this, it would not be the way it was before. After seeing the state of the “outside world” away from the golden cage, even if he had chosen to go back to his lover, it would be knowing that there is something more outside. The illusion is broken, and instead of staying in happy ignorance with her, he would be fully conscious of what he’s ignoring. Perhaps it’s not possible to be truly happy even if you were to censor the world from yourself, and that embracing the other “sorrows and comforts” of the world is the right choice.
We think of the Western World as a place largely without censorship, but if Faiz’s work rings true, we may also be in the arms of whatever love we have, be it a person, a passion, or an ideal, sitting in a golden cage of ignorance. If we are and we awaken to see the state of the society around us and see that it has problems, can we be truly happy going back into the arms of our real or symbolic lovers? Or will we always have a piece of nagging doubt in our hearts, saying that there is something more that we turned our back onto, that we ought to go out and see it for what it is? Faiz Ahmed Faiz’s “Don’t Ask Me For That Love Again” seems to imply the latter.
Bibliography
Faiz, Faiz Ahmad. The Rebel’s Silhouette: Selected Poems. Rev. ed. Amherst: U of Massachusetts, 1995. Print.
Omaid, Malik. “Faiz Ahmad Faid: Unlocking the Complicated Imagery of His Poems.” Pak Tea House. 20 Nov 2014. Web. 22 June 2015.
Blood Ties: Desperation and Forgiveness in Marrow of Tradition by Charles Chesnutt
Writing Slavery, E376M, PAR 310
““He was my son, and I have seen him die. I have been your sister for twenty-five years, and you have only now, for the first time, called me so!” -The Marrow of Tradition, page 245
From the first time we are introduced to Dr. Miller’s wife, she is portrayed as one half of the modern black couple that stands for progress in the novel. We learn that she is compassionate, intelligent, and fully grasps the intricacies of racial tension that have shaped her town and her past. The legitimate child of Olivia’s father to another woman, Janet is Olivia’s sister and is legally entitled to half of the estate. However, Olivia internally wrestles with this realization internally and doesn’t recognize it until the novel reaches its nexus. We will briefly explore both Janet and Olivia’s characters and then discuss the closing chapter of the book and how Janet resolves the plot and ushers in a more hopeful future.
Janet “had a tender heart, and could have loved this white sister, her sold living relative of whom she knew. All her life long she had yearned for a kind word, a nod, a smile, the least thing that imagination might have twisted into a recognition of the tie between then. But it had not come. And yet, Janet was not angry. She was of a forgiving temper; she could never bear malice. She was educated, had ready many books, and appreciated to the full the social forces arrayed against any such recognition as she dreamed of (page 85)”. Janet does not hold resentment for her sister Olivia even though she was never acknowledged by her. Instead, she married Dr. Miller and created her own life and happiness, separate from the non-forthcoming inheritance money. Indeed, when witnessing Dodie almost slipping off the balcony in the early chapters of the book, “[Janet had a] stronger impulse than mere humanity to draw her toward the stricken mother [Olivia] (page 85)”. Janet is portrayed as a good woman and mother, and she and Dr. Miller live comfortably thanks to their combined efforts at building a life together.
Mrs. Carteret, on the other hand, has a hard time reconciling with the fact that Janet is both her sister and legally entitled to a portion of the estate. “Mrs. Carteret’s problem had sunk from the realm of sentiment to that of material things, which, curiously enough, she found much more difficult. For, while the negro, by the traditions of her people, was barred from the world of sentiment, his rights of property were recognized… it would be too lengthy a task to follow the mind and conscience of this much-tried lady in their intricate workings upon this difficult problem; for she had a mind as logical as any woman’s, and a conscience which she wished to keep void of offence (page 211)”. By marginalizing Janet’s inherent claim to humanity, Olivia manages to put herself more at ease. She devises a way that she can return the money (through donating 10K to the hospital that Dr. Miller runs) without having to acknowledge her mistakes and wound her pride. She doesn’t have a chance to act on this, however, before the riot breaks out.
With Janet’s son shot dead and brought home to mourn, both Major Carteret and Olivia recognize they do not have a place to make requests or supplications in the grieving household. However, with her child on the brink of death, Olivia discards any and all semblances of pride and racial superiority and begs Dr. Miller for help anyway. He refers her to his wife, and here we reach the final pinnacle of the novel. Janet had herself said in the beginning of the novel that “blood is thicker than water, but, if it flows too far from conventional channels, may turn to gall and wormwood (page 85)”. The apology, the offering of half the estate, the recognition she so desperately sought were all too little, too late. “Janet had obtained her heart’s desire, and how that it was at her lips, found it but apples of Sodom, filled with dust and ashes! (page 245)”. Embittered and grieving, she was the face of a mother’s desperate, heart-wrenching sorrow. Yet “death, the great leveler, striking upon the one hand and threatening upon the other, had wrought a marvelous transformation in the bearing of the two women. The sad-eyed Janet towered erect, with menacing aspect, like an avenging goddess. The other, whose pride had been her life, stood in the attitude of a trembling suppliant (page 244)”. Janet could have made the choice to let Dodie die, and it would have been justified both to her and to the Carterets. She chose though, in the end, to “throw you back your father’s name, your father’s wealth, your sisterly recognition. I want none of them—they are bought too dear! … But that you may know that a woman may be foully wronged, and yet may have a heart to fell, even for one who has injured her, you may have your child’s life, if my husband can save it (page 246)”.
By not “trading” her son’s life for the estate or name or seeking anything in return, Janet showed that these things no longer mattered to her, but that out of goodwill and empathy, she would grant Dr. Miller’s service with no strings attached. This ending scene and the rebuilding of the town afterwards is what Chesnutt was looking for during Reconstruction, and though it’s not how it happened historically, it serves as the vision he had of people of color to climb to equal footing and mutual respect with their white neighbors.
REPLIES AND REFUTATIONS FROM CICERO TO ALCIBIADES IN ON DUTIES AND ALCIBIADES 1
Luyou Sun, lws489
Instructor: Dr. Daniel Burns
Course: GOV 351L & CTI 325 Morality and Politics
Fall of 2014
This text will focus on Cicero’s responses to Alcibiades, and we will see his retorts to Alcibiades claims throughout the text as well as relevant advice that Cicero might have chosen to give instead. Before delving into specific subjects, we will provide definitions from On Duties that will serve as the framework for his assertions.
We begin Alcibiades I with a pompous and overconfident Alcibiades and a wary Socrates. Alcibiades claims that since he is born into a wealthy family and has powerful influences—namely Pericles, his legal guardian and father figure (Plato, Alcibiades 104a-c)—that he feels he can break into politics and become influential very quickly. Socrates rebuffs this quickly, showing Alcibiades through questioning that he does not know what he will advise the Athenian people on, and secondly that he does not have a clear definition of virtue. At this early point in the dialogue, Cicero already takes issue with Alcibiades’s clear lack of what he wishes to pursue. Cicero claims that “when anyone does undertake public business, he should remember to reflect not only how honorable that is, but also on whether he has the capacity to succeed. Here, he must take thought so that indolence does not make him despair prematurely, nor greed spur him to overconfidence. Before you approach any business, through preparations must be made (On Duties. I. 73)”. Alcibiades rushing into what he doesn’t understand is unwise, because his greed to become powerful, since he claims that he wishes to have power over not only Athens, but the entire region (Plato, Alcibiades 105a), will drive him into making rash decisions. Cicero further reminds us that “the first of these [four parts to honorableness], that consisting of the learning of truth, most closely relates to human nature. For all of us feel the pull that leads us to desire to learn and to know; we think it a fine thing to excel in this, while considering it bad and dishonorable to stumble, to wander, to be ignorant, to be deceived… first, we should not take thing that have not been ascertained for things that have, and rashly assent to them. Anyone who wants to avoid that fault (as everyone indeed should) will take time and care when he ponders any matter. The second fault is that some men bestow excessive devotion and effort upon matters that are both abstruse and difficult, and unnecessary. (On Duties I.18)” If you don’t know what is right and you pursue it blindly, Cicero warns Alcibiades that he should stop and carefully consider what he wants before moving forward again.
Moving forward, we reach the critical part of the text where Socrates gets Alcibiades to admit that he is not necessarily seeking what is just, but instead, what is advantageous, claiming that “even if someone had it in his mind that war ought to be waged against those practicing the just things, he would not admit to it, at least” (Plato, Alcibiades 109c). Since this is the nexus of interest and the largest disagreement between Alcibiades and Cicero, we will approach Cicero’s answer to this this in several ways. Before we can begin, however, we must clarify what Cicero means when he speaks of duty. Cicero defines duty as “twofold. One kind of question relates to the end of good things; the other depends upon advice by which we ought to be fortified for all areas of life (On Duties I. 7)”. He clarifies this in the passage directly following, saying that that there are three questions we must consider, first: whether it is honorable or dishonorable, second: whether the action is beneficial, and finally: when something that appears beneficial comes into conflict with what is honorable, making the choice between the two (On Duties 1. 9). Everything that is honorable “arises from one of four parts: it is involved either with the perception of truth and with integrity; or with preserving fellowship among men, with assigning to each his own, and with faithfulness to agreements one has made; or, with the greatness and strength of a lofty and unconquered spirit; or with order and limit in everything that is said and done (On Duties I. 15)”. Cicero adds that “we must realize, it is that which is done with a great and lofty spirit, one disdaining human affairs, which appears in the most brilliant light (On Duties I. 61)”. It is important to distinguish here that there is a marked difference between honor (the admiration of your citizens, wealth, etc) and what is honorable. Cicero says that “the honorableness that we seek is created from and accomplished by these things. Even if it is not accorded acclaim, it is still honorable, and, as we truly claim, even if no one praises it, it is still by nature worthy of praise (On Duties I. 14)”.
Now that we have defined honorableness, we will hear Cicero’s reply to Alcibiades’s admittance that he would do what is beneficial instead of what is necessarily honorable all the time. Cicero is very clear when he says that “what I’m going next to address is that which is labelled ‘beneficial’. Custom has stumbled over this word and strayed from the path, gradually sinking to the point where she has severed honorableness from benefit, decreeing that something can be honorable which is not beneficial, and beneficial which is not honorable. Nothing more destructive than this custom could have been introduced into human life (On Duties II. 9)”. Cicero says that separating the two is a grave mistake, in fact, he later claims upright that “what is beneficial could never conflict with what is honorable. (On Duties III. 9)” He uses the Ring of Gyges example to illustrate that “benefit took its strength from honorableness, without which it could not even have been beneficial (On Duties III. 40)”. Therefore, not only is doing what is just the same thing as doing what is advantageous, they should be defined together, not as synonyms, but as inherently and irrevocably the same. That is to say, there is no situation in which doing what is advantageous is not just. Cicero says that “no one has won praise who has pursued the glory of courage by treachery and cunning; for nothing can be honorable from which justice is absent (On Duties I. 62)”. To clarify, even if something seems advantageous, if there is no justice, it is an illusion only.
Finally, for general advice that Cicero might give upon reading Alcibiades 1 since this is included in the prompt as well, Cicero would agree with much of what Socrates himself did say and convince Alcibiades of throughout the dialogue. To add to what Socrates says though, Cicero asserts that when considering how to rule, “One should harm no one, and secondly that one should serve the common advantage (On Duties I. 31)”. He spends a great deal of time explaining what he means by this, and it is likely that his advice to Alcibiades would be along the same vein. There are several facets that clarify the following statement, which seems bold when considered alone. First, Cicero tells us that “in general those who are about to take charge of public affairs should hold fast to Plato’s two pieces of advice: first to fix their gaze so firmly on what is beneficial to the citizens that whatever they do, they do with that in mind, forgetting of their own advantage. Secondly, let them care for the whole body of the republic rather than protect one part and neglect the rest (On Duties I. 85)”. Ruling the Athenian people well would force a leader to consider what is good for the city as a whole, rather than doing what is best for only or primarily Alcibiades’s supporters. I think that like Socrates, Cicero would recognize the potential in the young and eager Alcibiades, and would give him the warning in the latter half of Book 1, primarily that of men with greatness of spirit should be wary of becoming too hungry for influence. “For if there is any area in which it is impossible for many to be outstanding, there will generally be such competition there that it is extremely difficult to maintain a ‘sacred fellowship’. The rash behavior of Gaius Caesar has recently made that clear: he overturned all the laws of gods and men for the sake of the preeminence that he had imagine for himself in his mistaken fancy. There is something troubling in this case, in that the desire for honor, command, power and glory usually exist in men of the greatest spirit and most brilliant intellectual talent. Therefore one must be all the more careful not to do wrong in this way (On Duties I. 26)”.
This is further supported when Cicero speaks of wealth, but can be applied more generally that “One can see that most men are not so much liberal by nature as drawn by a kind of glory; and in order to be seen to be beneficent they do many things that appear to stem not from goodwill, but from ostentation. Such pretense is closer to sham than to either liberality or honorableness (On Duties I. 44)”. Furthermore, “it is a hateful fact that loftiness and greatness of spirit all too easily give birth to willfulness and an excessive desire for preeminence… the more outstanding an individual is in greatness of spirit, the more he desires complete pre-eminence, or rather to be the sole leader (On Duties I. 64)”. As for those who “look down with a great and lofty spirit upon prosperity and adversity alike, especially when some grand and honorable matter is before them, which converts them wholly to itself and possesses them, who then will fail to admire the splendor and beauty of virtue? A spirit contemptuous in this way arouses great admiration; and justice seems most of all something admirable to the crowd; on account of that virtue alone are men called ‘good’(On Duties II. 37-38)”.
Finally, as not to end with Cicero and Alcibiades butting heads the entire time, Cicero would agree with Alcibiades’s claim that “cowardice seems to you, therefore, the ultimate among bad things (Plato, Alcibiades 115d)”. It is from this argument that Socrates eventually shows Alcibiades that he does subconsciously seek what is just over what is advantageous, since if you’re dead, you cannot win further glory or riches. Cicero would add here that “you should… do deeds which are great, certainly, but above all beneficial, and you should vigorously undertake difficult and laborious tasks which endanger both life itself and much that concerns life (On Duties I. 66)”. As a final token of advice, Cicero tells us that, quite simply, “the nearest path to glory, a short cut so to speak, is to behave in such a way that one is what wishes to be thought. For men who think that they can secure for themselves unshakable glory by pretense and empty show, by dissembling in speech and countenance, are wildly mistaken. True glory takes root and spreads its branches too; but everything false drops swiftly down like blossom; and pretense can never endure (On Duties II. 43)”. This is the main point in all of Book 2, that it is both just and advantageous to be a good person, and that Alcibiades should rule with that in mind.
Through advising first that Alcibiades should carefully think over what he wants before he goes headlong into political life and secondly that the just is the same as the advantageous, we highlight the most important points that Cicero would have addressed if reading Alcibiades 1. Using Cicero’s On Duties as the primary framework to define and break down Alcibiades’s conversation with Socrates, we can see the richness and depth that Cicero adds and refines to Socrates’s wisdom.
Bibliography:
Cicero. Cicero: On Duties. Ed. M.T. Griffin and E.M. Atkins. 20th ed. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2013. Print.
Plato. “Alcibiades 1: or, On the Nature of Man”. Rpt. in Morality and Politics: GOV 351L, CTI 325 Fall 2014. Comp. Daniel Burns. TX, University of Texas at Austin, 2014. 1-24. Print.
Word Count: 1974 (text only)
Male and Female Characterization in Robert Frost’s home Burial
Male and Female Characterizations In Robert Frost’s Home Burial
Luyou Sun
10/30/2014
Robert Frost: GDC 6.202
Home Burial is unlike “traditional poems” in both content and structure, so generic veins of analysis are insufficient to analyze it. Instead, we will be looking towards the poem’s commentary on how the characterizations of man and wife interacted with their use of language. Things we will be paying attention to are: way they spoke, what words they employed, how they grouped themselves, and assumptions each made about the other. I believe that reading from the lens primarily of male and female characterization will let us flesh out Amy and her husband more completely.
The literal movement of the poem is, like the conversation of the couple at hand: tense, stifling, and dark. The poem begins with an unknown woman walking down the stairs in the wake of some physical manifestation of her fears. She meets her husband at the neck of the stairs and there is a brief push and pull of movement where the husband advances, confused, and then finally understanding what his wife is distraught about. It is implied that there has been the death of a baby and the wife has previously sought comfort elsewhere to cope with it. The husband, now aware of this, is desperate to make her stay home this time. We finally learn the name of the wife, Amy, during the tense exchange she has with her husband as she prepares to leave the house. Nothing further is revealed about their physical appearance, and the only characterization we have is of the way they present themselves by conversation. Frustrations mount as man and wife alienates the other in their differing ways of coping with grief, and the poem ends with Amy leaving and her husband vowing to bring her back by force.
The literal movement of Home Burial is closely mirrored to the thematic and emotional movement the poem presents. The beginning of the poem presents a grief-filled and wary, but still conciliatory, couple. As the poem goes on, one might assume that the couple is fighting only over the death of the child since the woman is accusing the man of not being sensitive enough. However, a more careful reading shows that the problem is rooted in a much deeper-seated problem that drives an even greater wedge in other aspects of the couple’s relationship. We will be exploring what this larger fault-line is and how it is manifested in the text with care to both chronological order as well as highlighting the function of specific choice of words and their effects on how each party perceives the other.
The beginning of Home Burial is rich with subtle warfare imagery. The husband is introduced to the reader as “advancing” towards his wife, which is an uncommon word when considering the context. Just as troops advance towards an enemy force or capture point, the man approached further, even when his wife, with “terrified face”, “sank upon her skirts”. His prompt to speak is calculated as he spoke “to gain time” while steadily walking towards her, which is also unusually diplomatic and cautious for a married couple. Then, just like how soldiers mount firearms, so too did the husband mount “until she cowered under him,” like the conquered force of an enemy camp. Finally, the husband admits in an almost apologetic fashion that “my words are nearly always an offence,” forcing the wife to become on the defensive with words of comfort that he doesn’t understand why she doesn’t appreciate. These examples show some of the more blatant images of the sheer physical dominance/subservience of the couple’s encounter on the stairs. The atmosphere is tense as she stiffens her neck and they remain in silence, and their relationship is immediately depicted as two people not completely standing as equals.
In terms of the general layout of the dialogue, it is structured similarly to a real conversation. The narration is terse and effective, and altogether disappears in the middle of the poem. For long portions of the argument between man and wife, we have no indications about physical movement in the poem. This serves two functions: first, to simulate a real argument, and secondly, to force us to focus solely on the dialogue. Regarding the first point, the back and forth between Amy and her husband are so rapid at times that there is simply no time to interrupt with other details. On the latter, and crucially important point, by not providing any guidelines for movement in the middle of the poem, there is no third party getting in the way of the direct argument of the couple. Even brief narration during this part of the poem would become both a physical and emotional distancing of the two parties from each other, and in the heat of the argument, both husband and wife offer direct and biting retorts to each other. This would be watered down if the narrator made himself known during this time.
The content of the argument also runs parallel to the structure of the poem. Both man and wife interrupt each other frequently with outbursts (“’Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t’, she cried”/ “‘How can I make you—‘ ‘If—you—do!’”), and this can be seen in both the beginning and end of each person speaking as well as in the middle of their text. Both parties, even when not interrupted by each other, are so wound up that they speak in repeated phrases, short sentences and sometimes even sentence fragments (“You—of, you think the talk is all. I must go—”), with passionate bursts of energy that directly answer and contrast each other. The first few sentences directly answer and contradict something said previously, and each retort is more bitter than the last.
To take the contents of the last paragraph deeper, particular words and phrases are utilized by both man and wife to characterize the other, which we will call masculine and the feminine characterizations. In the heat of the argument, these serve to add tinder to the fire and really divide the couple to where each does not and cannot possibly comprehend the other, and finally shows why the death of the child is a manifestation of this deeper-seated problem, instead of being the sole cause of it. This is arguably the most important shift in the poem that I noted, and changes the way the poem is interpreted in the end. The husband begins the poem by calling his wife a pet name (“you must tell me, dear”), but quickly changes his tone. The husband asks the rhetorical question several times over the course of the poem of whether or not “a man can speak of his own child he’s lost?” He generalizes and shields himself behind the bodies of his brothers by not directly referencing himself, just like how it seems through the rest of the poem that his way of coping is to try not to dwell on the circumstances. It is important to note here that Amy is not objecting at all to their talking about the child, but rather takes issue with the overly casual way that she perceives him handling it. She wants time to grieve, and feels like her husband is not giving it to her. Therefore, his asking whether a man can speak of his lost child is not directly relevant to the problem. Though the husband realizes this, he does not know how to rectify it, saying that “I don’t know how to speak of anything so as to please you. But I might be taught I should suppose”. Then, he makes the claim that “a man must partially give up being a man with women-folk. We could have some arrangement by which I’d bind myself to keep hands off anything special you’re a-mind to name”. This transitions the husband’s words from conciliatory and willing to change to almost patronizing. He claims first that he necessarily becomes emasculated by talking about his feelings in the way that she does, then goes on to make the almost morbid suggestion that he could just stay away from anything she loves and wants to name (a new-born child immediately comes to mind).
Amy, hearing this, attempts to leave, but the husband makes one more effort to appease her. He pleads with her to “tell me about it if it’s something human, Let me into your grief. I’m not so much unlike other folks as your standing there apart would make me out. Give me a chance”. We do not ever hear whether the wife is won over by this, because the next thing he says immediately destroys any hope of calm reunion. The husband says that “I do think, though, that you overdo it (grief over the child) a little.” He suggests that the memories of the child may be comforting, and that she is not alone in her despair. However, he mitigates and trivializes her feelings inadvertently. There is an immediate shift from unsteady truce to all out war. Things devolve very quickly, where she accuses him of sneering and he says that she makes him angry, saying “God, what a woman!” in frustration. She says that when watching him dig the grave for their son, she “thought, who is that man? I didn’t know you.” She agonizes over how casual he was afterwards, going so far as to directly quote him with great bitterness. His response to her is that he “shall laugh the worst laugh I have ever laughed. I’m cursed. God, if I don’t believe I’m cursed”. This signals the beginning of the end, and after a few more brief words, she flees out the door and he, full of exasperation and frustration, calls out at her that he’ll “bring [her] back by force”.
When reading through Home Burial initially, I was planning to structure the poem around literary devices, but then realized that, like most arguments in real life, there was no thought given to thing you may look for in other poems, like similies, metaphors, etc. Instead, I chose to structure the poem on how the characterizations of man and wife interacted with their use of language, way they spoke (with fragmented language), what words they employed, how they grouped themselves, and assumptions each made about the other. This greatly changed how I viewed the poem as I no longer read the end of the poem as something to celebrate or the possibility of reunion, but rather the finale to the devolving relations between man and wife. Furthermore, when the problems of the couple are looked at from outside the normal assumption that they are fighting over the death of the child and nothing else, we can see that the husband does not see the wife as an equal. This was shown through the warfare implications of the beginning of the poem as well as the violent nature of the end of it. Though this is not a traditional reading of Home Burial, I believe that reading from the lens primarily of male and female characterization provides the most completely inclusive reading of the poem.
FROM LOATHLY TO LOVELY: AN ANALYSIS OF “THE WEDDYNGE OF SIR GAWEN AND DAME RAGNELL” AND THE WIFE OF BATH’S TALE
Chaucer, E376
Monday, December 9th, 2013
Instructor: Elizabeth Scala
Office: Calhoun 213
E 376—Chaucer Final Paper Topics Fall 2013
Prompt 2 INSTRUCTIONS: During the semester we have discussed some of the issues surrounding medieval literary practices dealing with the sources of Chaucer’s tales. Medieval notions of “originality” are radically different from modern ones. Medieval tales always come from an “origin.” Interpretation of a medieval tale, then, is often determined by its difference from its “origin,” or source. Compare the Wife of Bath’s Tale to “The Weddynge of Sir Gawen and Dame Ragnell” (found in Sources and Analoguesof Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, ed. W.F. Bryan and Germaine Dempster, pp. 242-64). What changes does Chaucer make and what are their effects? How do Chaucer’s modifications of his source affect the meaning of the tale he writes? Your paper should focus on a particular change or group of changes that Chaucer makes in order to tease out the meaning(s) and effect(s) of such changes rather than listing all the changes Chaucer makes (and not talking about what they mean).
The subtle deviations that the storyteller makes from the original text often show much into the mind or intent of the author. In this case, the most meaningful difference between the classic tale of “The Weddynge of Sir Gawen and Dame Ragnell” and the modified version of that, Wife of Bath’s Tale, is tied to how the stories begin. The knight in the Wife of Bath’s Tale rapes a peasant girl, and he is made to go on a journey spurred by rehabilitative justice to find out what women want. Arthur and Gawen, on the other hand, are characterized as heroic and blameless. This significantly impacts how the audience sees the main characters as well as the end of the tales, addressing, among other things, concerns readers have with the ending to the Wife of Bath’s Tale.
In the original version of the story, the main characters who search for the answer to the question of “what do women most desire” are King Arthur and Sir Gawen, two great knights with brave hearts and solid moral compasses. It is not evident that the angry accusations of the armed knight, Sir Gromer Somer Joure are accurate, and both Arthur and Gawen are portrayed in a sympathetic light in the text. Claiming that his lands were seized from him by Sir Gawen, Sir Gromer Somer Joure tells Arthur with “grymly wordes” that “Thou hast me done wrong many a yere and wofully I shall quytte the here; I hold thy lyfe days nyghe done. Thou hast gevyn my landes in certain with greatt wrong unto Sir Gawen. Whate sayest thou, Kyng alone (55-60)?” Here, we get a first glimpse of how admirable Gawen and Arthur are. First of all, from the start, King Arthur intends to make good his promise to meet Sir Gromer Somer Joure in the same patch of woods in a year and a day, even though he knows it will most likely mean his death. Then, the king returns to Carlisle and reluctantly confronts Sir Gawain with this dilemma, saying “I shold telle hym att the same day whate wemen desyren moste, in good faye; my lyf els shold I lese. This othe I made unto that knyghte (170-172).” Proving his own merit, Gawen selflessly consents in order to save his uncle, exclaiming “’Ys this alle?’ then sayd Gawen; ‘I shalle wed her and wed her agayn, thowghe she were a fend; thowghe she were as foulle as Belsabub, her shalle I wed, by the Rood, or elles were nott I your frende.… to save your lyfe, Lorde, itt were my parte, or were I false and a greatt coward (343-353).” King Arthur tells her that Sir Gawen accepts her terms and she reveals to him that what women desire most is sovereynté, the ability to make their own decisions. King Arthur gives the correct answer and he is freed. King Arthur thinks of Gawen’s feelings many times during the course of the tale, and Gawen in turn agrees without hesitation to selflessly marry the loathly lady to save his lord. This is but one of many instances where the good hearts of both men are shown, and readers during that time period would have no trouble identifying the service of the two knights to uphold not only the Knight’s code of Honor, but a deeper loyalty that the Knights of the Round Table were famed for. Arthur and Gawen did not need to be taught to respect women or give them sovereignty because they already practiced it– they simply needed to be conscious of it.
In the Wife of Bath’s Tale, however, the knight has committed a grave transgression. After being found guilty of raping a girl, he receives his journey as an alternative sentence to death, essentially making his journey of redemption a lesson for him. The entire description of the rape is very short, taking up only a few lines in the opening of the tale. The Knight “cam ridynge fro ryver and happed that alone as he was born, he saugh a mayde anon, maugree his heed, by verray forceirafte hir maydenhed.” (884-890) The maiden never reappears in the story, and the entire happening is shown for context only, not being important in itself. Many modern readers question why Chaucer chose the Wife of Bath in particular to tell this tale since her prologue seems to lend itself to a tale more centered around the accomplishments of a women or a woman demonstrating her cunning or will over men. Adding to that, the fact that he committed this specific transgression is significant- if he murdered someone or stole something, the specific punishment of finding out what women most want wouldn’t have context. Finding the answer to this particular question serves to correct the thinking of the errant knight, and it is grounded in rehabilitative justice (a chance to correct his actions) rather than solely retributive (death). It is interesting to note that the punishment is given by the Queen after receiving consent from the nameless King, which itself is sovereignty in action. This may mean that the King already realizes and practices what the knight seeks to discover.
The difference that the change in the Knight’s actions plays into the endings of the two tales is this: Sir Gawen marries Dame Ragnelle in an act of willing sacrifice since she saved King Arthur, while the nameless knight resists even though it was he himself that she saved. In order to understand this better, let’s compare the endings of the two tales. In the original tale, after brief hesitation, Gawen assents to treat his new bride as he would if she were desirable, and go to bed with her as a dutiful husband is expected to do. When they go to the bedroom, Dame Ragnelle asks “yett for Arthours sake kysse me att the leste (635),” to which Gawen replies: “I wolle do more then for to kysse, and God before (639)!” Immediately, he turned and “sawe her the fayrest creature that evere he sawe, withoute mesure, and brasyd her in his armys and gan her kysse and made greatt joye, sycurly (642-656).” She explains she had been under a spell to look like a hag until a virtuous knight married her; and she would look beautiful for half of each day. She gives him the choice to have her beautiful at night, when they are together, or during the day, when they are with others. Instead, he gives her the sovereynté to make the choice herself, saying in lines 680 to 691 that:
“’Evyn as ye wolle, I putt itt in your hand.
Lose me when ye lyst, for I am bond;
I putt the choyse in you.
Bothe body and goodes, hartt, and every dele,
Ys alle your oun, for to by and selle –
That make I God avowe!’
‘Garamercy, corteys Knyght,’ sayd the Lady;
‘Of alle erthly knyghtes blyssyd mott thou be,
For now am I worshyppyd.
Thou shalle have me fayre bothe day and nyghte
And evere whyle I lyve as fayre and bryghte;
Therfore be nott grevyd.’”
This answer lifts the curse for good, and Ragnelle’s beauty returns permanently. This happens similarly in the Wife of Bath’s Tale, but with one important twist. Dame Ragnelle’s life with Sir Gawen is fleeting; the text says that she only lives for five years following the marriage. The errant knight, however, is rewarded with a loving, faithful, and beautiful wife for the rest of his life. Chaucer seems to suggest that his previous actions of disrespecting and transgressing on the rights of women are wiped off the slate, and he is not only given a second lease on life, but also awarded greatly. The loathly lady does not change personality, but physical appearance only. The knight judges her on this basis, and the audience is expected to as well, as the story has a supposed happy ending.
Many readers of the Wife of Bath’s Tale question why she was the one to tell the story, since the knight was sent on the quest after raping a young woman. It is an interesting change in the text, and it puts blame on the nameless knight that we do not see placed on King Arthur or Sir Gawen. The fact that the Wife of Bath changes the story to make it a nameless knight that commits a wrong (instead of two inherently good men triumphing over a sinister knight) seems to imply that Chaucer wanted the story to be a lesson. The reasons that he chose the Wife of Bath in particular as the storyteller is both curious and complex. Even today, scholars and readers of the Canterbury Tales cannot come to a consensus about why that is the case or the reasons fueling Chaucer’s intent. The Wife of Bath’s Tale is not painted in such a black and white picture of right or wrong, but perhaps it was meant this way.
Bibliography
Chaucer, Geoffrey, Robert Boenig, and Andrew Taylor. The Canterbury Tales: A Selection. 2nd Ed. Ontario: Broadview Editions, 1985. Print.
Hahn, Thomas. Sir Gawain: Eleven Romances and Tales. Kalamazoo: Medieval Institute Publications, 1995. Web.
JUSTICE, NOT “JUST” A WORD: QUESTIONS AND PROBLEMS REGARDING THE DIALOGUE BETWEEN SOCRATES AND HIS INTERLOCUTORS ON JUSTICE IN PLATO’S REPUBLIC
Luyou Sun
Classical Quest for Justice (34210)
Friday, December 6th, 2013
Instructor: Ariel Helfer
Introduction:
In Chapter 1 of The Republic, Socrates gives us the first glimpse into the nature of justice, by refuting Cephalus, Polymarchus, and Tharysmachus. Starting with the simplest definition of justice, we begin the inquiry on whether a law is always just. We then move towards refining justice and finding if it is really just to owe friends good and enemies harm. Finally, we descend past defining justice as a term and question the very grounds on which it stands—namely, is justice inherently good or if it is simply the means to an end. Throughout the dialogue, there are small holes in the tapestry of Socrates’ various refutations. Several incomplete arguments at the end of the chapter end in us questioning the true definition of justice, and if the kind of justice upheld in theory can be made into practice in a city proper.
Cephalus:
We begin the tale with Cephalus, the aging father of Polymarchus. He speaks proudly of having wisdom in old age, comparing himself to his worldly friends and colleagues. He boasts that “Some of us who are about the same age often meet together and keep up the old proverb… when they meet, most of the member of our group lament, longing for the pleasures of youth and reminiscing about sex… they take it hard as though they were deprived of something very important and had then lived well but are now not even alive… but Socrates, in my opinion… old age brings great peace and freedom from such things” (329a-c). However, perhaps we should not take everything he says at face value. His definition of justice is an endeavor to express the basic idea that justice means being honest no matter what and living up to your legal obligations. Socrates quickly raises the counterexample of returning a weapon to a madman (or, in modern society, taking car keys from a drunken friend). Despite owing the madman his weapon if it belongs to him legally, this would be an unjust act, since “everyone would surely say that…if a man takes weapons from a friend when the latter is of sound mind, and the friend demands them back when he is mad, one shouldn’t give back such things, and the man who gave them back would not be just, and moreover, one should not be willing to tell someone in this state the whole truth” (331c). Socrates draws from this that justice is something more than honoring legal obligations and being honest, though Cephalus’ definition might satisfy teaching a small child basic morals. Cephalus upholds that we should follow the law and that the law is always just, but Socrates essentially says that we have the power to question written law under circumstances that we deem it better. After being confronted about his comfortable and long-held definition of justice by Socrates, Cephalus quickly flees to comfort his soul with sacrifices. This may show a real insecurity in his heart. He may be afraid to question something so central to Greek culture, because the thought that he might not have been living the most just life possible is terrifying, especially with the hounds of Hades looming over him. Rather than further discuss and possibly put the deepest of his beliefs under scrutiny, Cephalus gives us a hasty excuse and departs.
Polemarchus:
Polemarchus inherits the argument after Cephalus leaves for sacrifices, notable primarily because he is the son of Cephalus. Polemarchus is more open-minded and flexible than his father, and proceeds to give us a more refined definition of justice. He outlines the obligation to help friends and harm enemies, which sounds different on first glance but shares the underlying imperative of rendering to each what is due and of giving to each what is appropriate. However, Socrates reveals many contradictions in this view. First, he reveals that that many classes of men engaged in various occupations might be said to be better, in given conditions, at doing good for friends and at harming enemies; in other words, there may be said to be infinite ways of achieving a “good” or a “bad,” but all of these instances argued cannot be said to demonstrate the accomplishment of justice. It is not the just man who is in any given instance best able to accomplish a given benefit or harm. Justice, in fact, appears in these instances to be of no value. He further points out that, because our judgment concerning friends and enemies is fallible, doggedly following this ideology without question will lead us to harm the good and help the bad. Socrates shows Polemarchus that we are not always friends with the most virtuous individuals, nor are our enemies necessarily unscrupulous people. Socrates also points out that there is some confusion in the idea of harming people through justice, saying that “if someone asserts that it’s just to give what is owed to each man—and he understands by this that harm is owed to enemies by the just man and help to friends—the man who said it is not wise. For he wasn’t telling the truth. For it has become apparent to us that it is never just to harm anyone” (335e). Polemarchus wind up conceding that we should not harm anyone, friend or foe. Socrates uses the examples of horses and dogs to illustrate that harming these creatures makes them worse. However, while Polemarchus accepts the argument without any further arguments, we might question how one would ever take any meaningful action if we were to think this way, since under this definition we should not harm perceived or actual enemies.
Thrasymachus:
As Socrates and Polemarchus were talking about the definition of justice, Thrasymachus sat aside, fuming and barely containing his impatient words of bitterness. When there is a lull in the conversation, he bursts out that Socrates is a fraud and that justice is nothing more than the advantage of the stronger. He challenges that:
“Each ruling group sets down laws for its own advantage; a democracy sets down democratic laws; a tyranny, tyrannic laws; and the others to the same. And they declare that what they have set down – their own advantage—is just for the ruled, and the man who departs from it they punish as a breaker of the law and the doer of the unjust deeds. This, best of men, is what I mean: in every city the same thing is just, the advantage of the established ruling body. It surely is master; so the man who reasons rightly concludes that everywhere justice is the same thing, the advantage of the stronger” (339a).
This is not really meant as a definition of justice as much as it is a delegitimization of justice, and the burden of the discussion shifts from the challenge to define justice to proving the worth of justice at all. Thrasymachus’ primary claim is that it does not pay to be just, and that just behavior works to the advantage of other people, not to the person who behaves justly. Thrasymachus assumes here that justice is the unnatural check on our human desire to have more. Justice is a convention imposed on us, and it does not benefit us to adhere to it. He suggests that it is neither rational nor in our best interest to be truly just. He compares small scale crime, “temple robbers, kidnappers, housebreakers, defrauders and thieves are want they call these partially unjust men who do such evil deeds… but when someone, in addition to the money of the citizens, kidnaps and enslaves them too, instead of these shameful names, he gets called happy and blessed… for it is not because they fear doing unjust deeds, but because they fear suffering them, that those who blame injustice do so” (344a-c).Socrates has three arguments to employ against Thrasymachus’ claim. First, he makes Thrasymachus admit that the view he is advancing promotes injustice as a virtue. In this view, life is seen as a continual competition to get more worldly goods, and whoever is most successful in the competition has the greatest virtue. Socrates then launches a chain of reasoning which leads him to conclude that injustice cannot be a virtue because it is contrary to wisdom, which is a virtue. Injustice is contrary to wisdom because the wise man, who is skilled in some art, never seeks to outdo others who possess the same art. The mathematician, for instance, is not in competition with other mathematicians. Socrates further argues that understanding justice now loosely as “the principle that enables a group that follows certain rules”, in order to reach any of the goals Thrasymachus earlier praised as desirable, people must be need to be at least moderately just in the sense of adhering to these set of rules. Though unanswered by Thrasymachus, there is a problem here because Socrates speaks of honor among cohorts, yet Thracymachus seems to be speaking about somebody that is capable of functioning alone in injustice. Socrates essentially leaves this point of contention open, and it remains unaddressed through the rest of the debate. Socrates then argues that since it was agreed that justice is a virtue of the soul, and virtue of the soul means health of the soul, justice is desirable because it means health of the soul. We consider the proper functions and the end goal for the soul. If the souls’ end is life, Socrates says, and its excellence, or perfect execution of that end, is the fulfillment of life, then justice is the excellence of the soul because, as he had revealed earlier, the just man enjoys better quality of life. Socrates concludes Chapter 1 with bringing Thrasymachus to admit that “injustice is never more profitable than justice” (354a). Yet, Socrates’ third rebuttal is also rather vague; the analogies he seeks to advance are unclear, and it is difficult to perceive their essential similarities as being readily similar to the essence of the good man and his pursuit of justice.
Concluding Thoughts:
With a few hours of dialogue under their belts, Socrates and his interlocutors are still no closer to a consensus on the definition of justice, and Socrates has only advanced weak arguments in favor of justice’s worth. There is some truth in the claim from Thrasymachus that Socrates has only been refuting their responses and offering none of his own. Even Socrates himself declares that he is unsatisfied with the dialogue so far. Due to the refutations, traditional Greek thinking on justice is in shambles and Socrates must spend the rest of The Republic constructing and breathing life into what the ideal and just society would look like.
给新生的建议
孙陆游，中文612, 林老师
我写这张文章不只是因为老师叫我，而是我自己是大学新生的时候，没有人跟我讲这些东西. 着是给你们看的，希望不要想我一样的没有经验.
因循是一个对学习有很大的影响的习惯. 如果你经常等到最后才做功课，很多时候会有想不到的事情发生，除了让人很担心以外，也不能好好做完功课. 如果你知道你有问题做完功课，把电脑关掉可能有帮助.
自从我十三岁以后，我的父母每年夏天都把我送到夏令营去，所以我上大学的时候已经有一点儿跟别人住的经验. 我今年的同屋是我的高中的时候认识的. 我们分担家事，我洗碗和打扫房间，她烧饭. 我尊重她的爱安静的习惯，所以我不跟男朋友在房间里打电话，我睡觉时候她也会把大灯关掉. 我们这样做让我们两年住在一起也没有问题.
你刚上大学时,又不吹识别人,又不知道去那儿上课. 但是,不要但心,因为别的新生跟你一样. 找到你喜欢的组织不但能帮你对学校更熟悉, 而且也让你很快就找到朋友. 有上棵以外的经验对找事也很有用. 因为你认识的人越多，你的机会也就跟多.
我大一的时候，没有人跟我说这样的事。自己学是很痛苦的，希他们好好听话.
GILDED STREETS AND DIRTY FEET: POSSIBLE CAUSES, INTERACTIONS WITH SOCIETY, AND PARTIAL SOLUTIONS TO HOMELESSNESS
Luyou Sun
11-30-2013
Professor Thoralf Meyer, GRE 304E
“The faces of the homeless are familiar to all of us. They are older men and women with vacant eyes and frightened expressions. They are children with hollow cheeks and hopeless stares. They are the faces of troubled people battling imaginary demons and real life nightmares. They are the faces pressed against the windows of our affluence and thus shame us with their silent plea.”
Introduction:
Homelessness does not just mean lacking a place to sleep or not having enough money to eat. It also means physical and emotional weariness, hopelessness, and a daily struggle just to get by. First, we will address the common profiles of the homeless and causes behind their situation. We then move on to societal perceptions of homelessness, and then finally discuss possible solutions offered and why problems persist with them.
Profile of the Homeless:
According to the National Alliance to End Homelessness (2010), nearly 600,000 families and 1.3 million children experience homelessness in the United States. Furthermore, families make up anywhere between 30 percent and 55 percent of the homeless population, depending on whether it is in rural or urban areas (National Coalition for the Homeless 2009). A report by the National Law Center on Homelessness and Poverty shows that children under the age of 18 represent about 39 percent of the homeless population, many of whom are under the age of 5. Additionally, about 25 percent of the homeless were between the ages of 25 and 34. The elderly, people aged 55 to 64, make up about 6 percent of the homeless population (Foscarinis 2008). Additionally, those suffering from mental illness or substance abuse are much more likely to become homeless than those with neither. Some homeless people were originally with jobs and homes, but were rendered homeless due to debilitating illnesses or other life-changing events like natural disasters.
Once in poverty and the extreme stress it brings, the conditions sometimes cause violence, alcoholism, and substance abuse where there was none before. This, in turn, affects their children. One University of Minnesota study found that the kind of parenting a child receives in the first 3.5 years is a better predictor of high school graduation than I.Q. Among other things, it was able to predict high school dropout rates with 77% accuracy using only quality of care measures up to age 42 months and those children who were less competent in dealing with mixed gender relationships during adolescence were more likely to have mothers who were abused.
Causes of Homelessness:
Unable to get a job without enough money, clean clothing, or permanent place of residence, many people who have been dislocated spending months or even years trying to rebuild their past lives, and many never end up completely recovering. Furthermore, there are many obstacles that plague all facets of society but rear their heads the fiercest to those homeless and impoverished people. Clinical depression, a deep sense of hopelessness, and many diseases and infestations that come from a lack of hygiene and clean water are all more prevalent in these types of populations. Preventable or treatable diseases also see a rise in this niche of people due to the lack of long-term savings. Those who can barely afford the simple costs of daily living are hard pressed to find enough spare money to afford a treatment or drug prescription. Most of the research on homelessness identifies three main causal factors: a shift in the economy; the lack of affordable housing, such as the destruction of single-room occupancy (SRO) units through urban renewal efforts; and the deinstitutionalization of the mentally ill. There remains serious debate over which of these is most significant, but there is substantial evidence to suggest they all play a part in the problem.
Societal Interactions with Homelessness:
A large population of homeless people, many of whom do not or cannot contribute to the active workforce, is a dilemma that the best societies often attempt to address. If we hope to find possible solutions to this problem, we must first identify and understand the significance of the way most people treat homelessness. The treatment of many people towards the homeless is both complex and an extremely important partial contributor of why this problem is able to perpetuate to the degree it is currently at in many large cities. When approached by a homeless person or when in some shared space with one (metro, city bus, or other public places), common reactions of many people include avoidance, disgust, and fear or wariness. When walking on busy streets or intersections and presented with someone asking for change, many people have taken up completely ignoring them, even if directly addressed or spoken to. A Princeton University psychology professor, Susan Fiske, has found that when research subjects hooked up to neuro-imaging machines look at photos of the poor and homeless, “their brains often react as if they are seeing things, not people. Her analysis suggests that Americans sometimes react to poverty not with sympathy but with revulsion”. There are several reasons people react like this, such as feeling like homeless people are inferior, being afraid of an abnormal or violent reaction if acknowledged, or the somber knowledge that eviction and unemployment aren’t entirely out of the question in their own lives if something were to go wrong. However, not all of the responses towards homeless people are negative. Many cities run programs to rehabilitate homeless people, often helping them find employment where they otherwise could not. Others have services such as free-of-charge washing for business clothes when displaced people go in for an interview. There is usually a greater awareness and sense of charity towards this matter around holidays, and canned food drives may circulate locally to provide extra food for families in need.
Possible solutions to the issue of Homelessness:
“The shelter system is a band-aid, not a realistic solution to the problem. To deal effectively with homelessness, we need to move beyond the emergency shelter response and provide the housing and other services that will make a permanent and honorable solution possible.” (2) In a hearing before the United States Senate’s Committee on Labor and Human Resources in 1990, a witness testified that “Green Door is a program for people with a major mental illness. About 80 percent of the people have a diagnosis of schizophrenia and the rest… have a diagnosis of maniac depression. We take people from the shelters. We brought 50 people from the shelters this last year… and we help them learn to live in the community on their own and to get jobs… we prove the untruth in the common myth that [these] people can’t work, because with a little work, they can do [these] things, and we provide that support.” (10) The interview goes on to say that “over the course of 12 years, we have brought 1,400 people out of the hospitals and shelters”. (10) A common misconception among many people in society is that once treated of their ailments or curable/treatable diseases, there are no more obstacles for the unemployed to find a job. However, Johnson furthers that “if you discharge [a dislocated person] from the hospital with no support, there will be no way for them to rebuild their previous lives”. (10) Rehabilitation programs, increased public awareness, and treatment and support programs for those in need of medical attention all need to become more supported publicly if the masses of homeless people are to be taken care of and as many are returned to society as possible.
Concluding Thoughts:
If we turn our heads and hearts away from those homeless people in desperate need, we leave them to die—perhaps not physically, but we take away any chance of them coming back into society as working, productive citizens. When we don’t give them a chance, we are also withholding any long term hope for the future, higher education, assurance of basic human needs, and being able to die a dignified death. If they will pass away, a lonely and cold death on the side of the street, those who turned away will live with guilt and conscience that they could have reached one hand over and pulled the emergency brake, but rather let the car spiral off a dark cliff of hopelessness. We cannot turn back. We cannot turn away. The plight of the millions of homeless people in our cities is our own plight. And unless something is done, it will continue to be.
Bibliography
Collins , A, A Sroufe, and B Egeland. “The Development of the Person: The Minnesota Study of Risk and Adaptation from Birth to Adulthood.” US National Library of Medicine National Institutes of Health (Courtesy of Canadian Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry). 384p. (2007): n. page. Web. 2 Dec. 2013.
Kristof, Nicholas. “Where Is the Love?.” New York Times 27 11 2013, Op-Ed n. pag. Web. 2 Dec. 2013.
Quraishi, Amanda. Volunteers Needed for the 2012 Point-in-Time Homeless Count!. 2011. Photograph. Mobile Loaves and Fishes: Miracles on Wheels, Austin. Web. 2 Dec 2013.
Shalley-Jensen, Michael. “Homelessness.” Encyclopedia of Contemporary American Social Issues. Santa Barbra : 2011.
United States. Senate Committee on Labor and Human Resources. Homelessness: An American Tragedy. Washington: US Government Printing, 1989. Web.
THE IMMORTALITY OF ROMANCE: QUESTIONS AND PROBLEMS REGARDING SOCRATES’S SPEECH ON LOVE IN PLATO’S SYMPOSIUM
Ancient Philosophy and Literature (34049)
Monday, October 14th, 2013
Instructor: Lorraine Pangle & Erik Dempsey
Office: WAG 401 (Dempsey)
Love and the deep passion it kindles in the hearts of men have long given hope to despair, passion to indifference, and meaning to an existence where men often find none. The power love wields is no light matter, and neither are the speeches addressing and praising it in Plato’s Symposium. In order to give the greatest amount of consideration to the questions at hand, we must first consider the main arguments behind the speeches of Aristophanes and Socrates and their similarities. We will then move to the major differences between the two, and why they important. Finally we will address the remaining uncertainties we harbor when reflecting again on achieving love and its results. Through this, we seek to cultivate a deeper understanding of both love and the conflicting part it plays in the lives of men.
Aristophanes gives a rather fantastic account about how humans came to be, describing them as “originally three in number; there was man, woman, and the union of the two, having a name corresponding to this double nature, which had once a real existence, but is now lost” (189e). He claims that the love a man has for a woman is somehow baser than a man’s love for his male partner, telling us that “men who are a section of that double nature which was once called Androgynous are lovers of women,” (190e) however, others “are not naturally inclined to marry or beget children… but they are satisfied if they may be allowed to live with (their male lovers) unwedded… and when one of them meets with his other half… the pair are lost in an amazement of love and friendship and intimacy… these are the people who pass their whole lives together; yet they could not explain what they desire of one another” (192a-d). Aristophanes claims that for this type of lover, they do not desire lover’s intercourse, but rather vaguely wish to be united more completely. He mentions Hephaestus, the god of all craftwork to draw attention to his argument that if presented the opportunity to reunite forever in body and mind with their lover, they would realize that is what they most wanted all that time, saying that all men would realize that “this becoming one instead of two, was the very expression of his ancient need. And the reason is that human nature was originally one and we were a whole, and the desire and pursuit of the whole is called love” (192d-e). Aristophanes makes the final assertion that “if our loves were perfectly accomplished, and each one returning to his primeval nature had his original true love, then our race would be happy… and the best in the next degree… must be the nearest approach to such a union; and that will be the attainment of a congenial love” (193c-d). Ultimately, Aristophanes presents love and union with your lover to be the final destination for all men striving for the most fulfilling happiness. Though the story Aristophanes tells may seem trivial to some, an understanding of the arguments he brings forth is needed in order to adequately compare Socrates’s response.
Despite many marked contrasts in the contents of the two speeches, we start first at the small similarities. First of all, both speeches have a part of it that personifies love: for Aristophanes a powerful god, for Socrates a diamon since he does not possess the good or beautiful but rather seeks it. In the eyes of Socrates, “(Love) interprets between gods and men… he is the mediator who spans the chasm which divides them… God mingles not with man; but through Love all the intercourse and converse of God… is carried on. (202e-203a).” To prove this, Socrates begins his speech with his famous method of inquiry, asking “does (Love) possess, or does he not possess, that which he loves and desires?” (200a). Eventually, we reach the conclusion that Love wants and has not beauty and the good, and is therefore neither good nor beautiful. In the accounts of both Aristophanes and Socrates, humans seek something they do not have: in one speech, their other half; in the other speech, beauty. However, the major difference that between the two is that Aristophanes says that love is the end in itself, while Socrates says that love is merely the means in which we journey to find the greatest beauty. While Aristophanes talks about the great happiness and peace that comes about with the union of two people and that their final life goal would be to merge as a single person, Socrates uses romantic love as the beginning to a lofty ladder that eventually culminates in finding beauty. More than simply a different viewpoint on the matter of Love, Socrates’s speech in many ways directly foils that of Aristophanes by claiming that somewhere along the journey to find true beauty, we should cast aside the original lover we began with. We follow a young boy’s journey from when he first learns to “love one such form only–out of that he should create fair thoughts; and soon he will of himself perceive that the beauty of one form is akin to the beauty of another; and then if beauty of form in general is his pursuit, how foolish would he be not to recognize that the beauty in every form is and the same! And when he perceives this he will abate his violent love of the one, which he will despise and deem a small thing, and will become a lover of all beautiful forms” (210d). By moving on to the notion that beauty of the mind is more honorable than physical beauty, he continues until
“He who has been instructed thus far in the things of love, and who has learned to see beautiful…. (will discover) beauty absolute, separate, simple, and everlasting, which without diminution and without increase, or any change, is imparted to the ever-growing and perishing beauties of all other things. He who from these ascending under the influence of true love, begins to perceive that beauty, is not far from the end. And the true order of going, or being led by another, to the things of love, is to begin from the beauties of earth and mount upwards for the sake of that other beauty, using these as steps only, and from one going on to two, and from two to all fair forms, and from fair forms to fair practices, and from fair practices to fair notions, until from fair notions he arrives at the notion of absolute beauty, and at last knows what the essence of beauty is” (211a-c).
Socrates holds a stark contrast to Aristophanes that the best life “is that life above all others which man should live, in the contemplation of beauty absolute” (211d). He concludes by challenging others by asking “would that be an ignoble life?” (212b). Socrates believes that with this good in mind, the procreation and conception of a child or an idea, men seek to become immortal. He asserts that good men can become pregnant with wisdom and virtue, the best of which eventually becomes temperance and justice. He claims that “all men are bringing to the birth in their bodies and in their souls. There is a certain age at which human nature is desirous of procreation,” (209b) where beauty resides at birth. “To the mortal creature, generation is a sort of eternity and immortality,’ she replied; ‘and if, as has been already admitted, love is of the everlasting possession of the good, all men will necessarily desire immortality together with good: Wherefore love is of immortality” (209c).
We come to several interesting questions and problems during the course of this discussion. First, with Socrates’s assertion that even animals have desire to be immortal through their offspring and therefore human and animal reproduction seeks to be immortal through same means. “Those who are pregnant in the body only, betake themselves to women and beget children–this is the character of their love; their offspring, as they hope, will preserve their memory and giving them the blessedness and immortality which they desire in the future” (209a-b). Having no mention in Greek literature that all animals actually achieve immortality through reproduction, there is an unmentioned but important implication that by purely physical means, perhaps humans do not either. “The mortal nature is seeking as far as is possible to be everlasting and immortal: and this is only to be attained by generation, because generation always leaves behind a new existence in the place of the old… (thus) the mortal body, or mortal anything, partakes of immortality” (210a). From this, we move on to the similar assertion that Socrates addresses when he asks “who, when he thinks of Homer and Hesiod and other great poets, would not rather have their children than ordinary human ones? Who would not emulate them in the creation of children such as theirs, which have preserved their memory and given them everlasting glory?” (209d). Socrates seems to address the actual subject of love less and the notion of immortality more when asking a rhetorical question about whether or not we would rather bear the children of famous poets (though we are not necessarily “in love” with them) in order to leave immortal offspring in the literary sense. Finally, we address the most difficult question that surfaces in Socrates’s speech, namely: Is the love of an idea really love? Socrates spends almost the entirety of his speech building up to the statement that the highest form of love is that of contemplation of the truly beautiful. When we consider, however, that Love and Beauty are ideas and cannot reciprocate anything done or said by an individual, we have lingering doubts about whether Socrates addressed in full the topic of Love at all.
Many things go unresolved at the close of this discussion. We began with what seemed like a clear refutation of Aristophanes’ speech about love as the end in itself. By the end of Socrates’s speech, however, we are left to wonder if the love of beauty is even comparable to that of loving another person, for one cannot love back while the other can. What seemed like a basic foil turns out to be more subtly problematic than we may have first expected. However, this is not discouraging because the very nature of love is to be infinitely complex. It is for this reason that centuries of discussions, literature, and understanding of love have not completely dried the well of new thought over red roses and singing under a balcony. By addressing the uncertainties that remain, can grow to fully appreciate the power of love as it applies not only through ancient Greek culture, but through anywhere on the vast grid of time and place.
Bibliography:
Edwards, Jeffrey, perf. The Symposium by Plato – FULL Audio Book – Ancient Greek Philosophy. Greatest Audio Books, 2012. Web. 14 Oct 2013.
Plato, and Jowett, Benjamin. Symposium. 6th. Salt Lake City: The Project Gutenburg Literary Archive Foundation, 2008. eBook.
A MORE IN-DEPTH STUDY OF AMOUR: AN ANALYSIS AND CONTRAST OF GUILT RESOLUTION FOR PARIS AND HELEN IN THE ILIAD OF HOMER
A More In-Depth Study of Amour: An Analysis and Contrast of Guilt Resolution for Paris and Helen in The Iliad of Homer
Luyou Sun
Lws489
The Classical Quest for Justice
Friday, October 4th, 2013
Instructor: Ariel Helfer
Office: MEZ 3.220
“Paris and Helen”. Rivaling even Romeo and Juliet in terms of popularity, just hearing the names of these tragic Greek figures make people think of star-crossed lovers and ill-fated romance. It is interesting, then, to note both how little in the Iliad the actual dialogue between the two are, as well as how complex their seemingly single-minded love was. For those who have briefly heard or skimmed through the story, it is rather straight-forward. However, upon a closer reading, many puzzling and seemingly paradoxical issues stand out to us. In order to give these issues the attention they deserve, we must first ask ourselves in what ways Paris and Helen handle love and its consequences in the Iliad. Then, we analyze their relationships with Aphrodite, and what their responses show about their states of mind. By addressing the similarities and differences in the ways they handle guilt, we ultimately approach the question if Paris and Helen are truly satisfied in love, and what ambiguities still remain.
For all of the initial boasting and revelry that probably occurred for Helen’s initial homecoming, Paris does feel some measure of guilt for starting the Trojan War. An important distinction in his way of thinking, however, is that despite the culpability and guilt he carries, he remains unrepentant for his actions. When Paris encounters Menelaos on the battlefield and “the heart was shaken within him; to avoid death he shrank into the host of his own companions,” Hektor immediately shames him, saying “evil Paris, beautiful, woman-crazy, cajoling, better you had never been born… it would be far better than to have you with us to our shame, for others to sneer at… only because your looks are handsome, but there is no strength in your heart, no courage” (3.31-45). However, in reply to Hektor’s taunt that “the lyre would not help you then, nor the favors of Aphrodite, nor your locks, when you rolled in the dust, not all your beauty,” (3.54-55), Paris replies “yet do not bring up against me the sweet favors of golden Aphrodite. Never to be cast away are the gifts of the gods” (3.62-64). Paris realizes he’s more of a lover than a fighter, and he is able to reconcile the two ways of living while still holding onto his own. He tells Helen when she is insulting him that “this time Menelaos with Athene’s help has beaten me; another time I shall beat him. We have gods on our side also” (3.439-440). He acknowledges insults that he’s a pretty boy and a coward with the speech pattern “you have scolded me rightly, not beyond measure,” (3.59 & 6.334), expressing a very similar sentiment yet again in Book 13 with the repetition of the “evil Paris” quote from above. He exhibits unusually calm and rational responses to Hektor’s accusations, and Paris seems generally to be at peace with his actions, or at the very least does not deeply regret them.
The same could not be said for Helen of Argos. Deeply regretful and bitter, she longs for her old life, and her waking hours are a constant war with reason and social perception being pitted against passion. When she is first introduced to the reader, she is weaving a great web depicting “the numerous struggles of Trojans… and bronze-armored Achaians, struggles that they endured for her sake at the hands of the war god” (3.126-128). In fact, when Iris comes in shortly after to inform her of Menelaos and Paris’ showdown, Helen had “a sweet longing after her husband of time before,” (3.140-142) even crying a single tear in her sorrow. Helen leaves no woe un-voiced throughout the entirety of the poem, wishing “bitter death” (3.174) upon herself and calling herself a “slut” (3.180) and a “nasty bitch evil-intriguing” (6.344). She laments to Hektor that “I wish I had been the wife of a better man than this is, one who knew modesty and all things of shame that men say… it is on your heart that all the work has fallen for the sake of dishonored me and the blind act of Alexandros, us two, on whom Zeus set a vile destiny, so that hereafter we shall be made into things of song for men of the future” (6.350-459). Her sorrow carries on until the last page of the Iliad, where at Hektor’s grave Helen mourns his death as well as “myself also and my ill luck… there was no other in all the wide Troad who was kind to me… all others shrank when they saw me” (24.772-775). She is constantly thinking of her own sorrows and troubles, and her relationship with Paris seems almost hateful at times. Something interesting to consider but not mentioned in the Iliad is the question of whether Helen actually falls in love with Paris entirely of her own free will. In an unmentioned but extremely important backstory, Paris judges a beauty contest between goddesses where Aphrodite promises his hand in marriage to the most beautiful woman in the world, and despite Paris obviously not thinking of Helen purely as a commodity, Helen’s physical objectification and the ability of Aphrodite to promise with confidence the heart of Helen suggests something not voluntary about it. If this is the case, Helen’s grieving through the Iliad takes on a slightly different tone and may seem more justified in our eyes.
Paris and Helen both have interactions with Aphrodite, the goddess of passion and romance; however, their responses to her help vary greatly and reflect a lot about their respective mentalities and possibly even how they think of each other. On one hand, Paris thinks of Aphrodite as a Goddess-in-the-flesh, and he even gets physically rescued by her in his duel with Menalaos in Book 3 where Paris would have died “had not Aphrodite daughter of Zeus watched sharply…. Aphrodite caught up Paris easily, since she was divine, and wrapped him in a thick mist” (3.373-385). Paris seems very appreciative of her efforts and aid to him, and in a very meaningful passage in Book 4, Zeus tells the other gods that “laughing Aphrodite forever stands by her man and drives the spirits of death away from him. Even now she has rescued him when he thought he would perish” (4.10-12). The wording suggests that Aphrodite and Paris have a connection that runs deeper than most of the interactions of hazy endorsement that the gods have with mortals, and the words “her man” seems almost to suggest that Paris is her champion of choice, or even that there might be an inkling of romantic sentiment in their relationship. Helen alludes to this more directly when Aphrodite approaches her. Despite a physical disguise, Helen immediately recognizes Aphrodite, and reproaches her strongly with a very important passage:
“Strange divinity! Why are you so stubborn to beguile me? …Is it because Menelaos has beaten great Alexandros… that you stand in your treachery now beside me? Go yourself and sit beside him, abandon the gods’ way, turn your feet never again to the path of Olympos but stay with him forever, and suffer for him, and look after him until he makes you his wedded wife, or makes you his slave girl. Not I. I am not going to him. It would be too shameful. I will not serve his bed, since the Trojan women hereafter would laugh at me, all, and my heart even now is confused with sorrow” (3.395-412).
There are two very fascinating suggestions we might draw from this passage. The first is Helen’s angry recommendation to Aphrodite to care and love Paris as mortal women do. The second is that to Helen, based on this verbal exchange, Aphrodite might seem more like love as an idea rather than an all-powerful goddess to her. In fact, the revulsion Helen feels at attending to the wounded Paris’s bedside likely represents her own internal struggle and shame in her relationship with him. Aphrodite describes the physical beauty of Paris to entice Helen when they first begin speaking, and if we read the passage through the lens that Aphrodite is the personified and physical manifestation of Helen’s romantic train of thought, we gain new perspective about their exchange. In fact, after Helen initially rejects Paris, Aphrodite backlashes angrily, and says with words of venom, “wretched girl, do not tease me lest in anger I forsake you and grow to hate you as much as now I terribly love you” (3.414-415). Helen then follows Aphrodite, her passion, back to Paris’s chamber, “silent, unseen by the Trojan women, and led by the goddess” (3.420). Helen’s passion once again wins over the social embarrassment that she mentions often in the Iliad, and it shows that for her, even if she is not completely satisfied in love and holds many disappointments and bitter feelings, she is still swayed by the powers of Aphrodite.
Careful readers of the Iliad now see more clearly the subtle complexities faced by Paris and Helen, and the differences in the way the two lovers handle guilt shows that though Paris is guilty but mostly unrepentant, Helen fosters deep and profound uncertainties and sorrows about her choice to go with Paris. Their relationship with Aphrodite further illustrates that Paris glorifies Aphrodite and the power of love as something divine, while for Helen it is more of a battle of her subconscious and the amorous emotions it brings. Through the comparatively short passages of text the Iliad provides about their relationship, many of the universal problems of love and passion come into the light, and we are able to glean some amount of knowledge and guidance from it. The struggles of Paris and Helen mirror the struggles many of us face today, and The Iliad of Homer magnifies it so we must seek out our answers or, like Helen, forever lie in conflict with our emotions.
Bibliography:
Lattimore, Richmond. The Iliad of Homer. 5th ed. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2011. Print.
JUST(ICE:) A MATTER OF PERSPECTIVE
Shea E 321, Due: 5/7/2013
Image from Cover Page courtesy of koenta on DA
Many times driven by a perceived misdeed, justice is often the catalyst for action in many of Shakespeare’s plays. The fuel that many characters sustain themselves on, the burning need for some sense of fairness makes itself familiar to protagonists and antagonists alike. Analyzing the consequences of the pursuit of justice in The Tragedy of Hamlet as well as The Merchant of Venice, we may discover not only the pinnacles of its beauty, but perhaps its distinct imperfections as well. We will focus primarily on Hamlet and Shylock, two figures obsessed with the execution of justice, and evaluate how their interactions with other characters impact the ways we interpret justice. We will then examine how “justifiable” certain types of justice may be in the two plays, as well as what potential problems may spring from the tiny tears it bears. Finally, I hope to convince you that we the audience ought to not settle on one single interpretation of what is just or unjust, but discover Justice as something subjective to each character individually.
We begin in the sturdy castles and sprawling forests that is Denmark, where Hamlet’s grief over his late father’s passing is interrupted by the knowledge that his death might have been caused by Claudius, who now possesses both the crown and Queen Gertrude, Hamlet’s mother. Sickened and angered, Hamlet spends most of the rising action during the play contemplating Claudius’s death, sacrificing friendship and perhaps even sanity for the chance to bring justice to his father’s ghost. Arguably one of the most directly revenge-related plays that Shakespeare wrote, the driving force of both Hamlet and the play as a whole is the sense of retributive justice. Claudius’s guilt is not questioned in the play, and he even admits to doing the deed during Act 3, Scene 2, lamenting that “my offence is rank! It smells to heaven. It hath the primal eldest curse upon’t, a brother’s murder (37).” However, he cannot bring himself to truly feel repentant for his deed, continuing that “pray can I not. Though inclination be as sharp as will, my stronger guilt defeats my strong intent… what form of prayer can serve my turn? ‘Forgive me my foul murder?’ That cannot be since I am still possessed of those effects for which I did the murder, my crown, mine own ambition, and my queen (55).” Claudius tries to repent but cannot, as though his “words fly up, [his] thoughts remain below. Words without thoughts never to heaven go (98).” By Claudius admitting his guilt through his reaction to the play, Hamlet’s vengeful justice is condoned to an extent, because it has reason. However, there is more than one facet of justice in The Tragedy of Hamlet, others of which are not so clearly justifiable.
Hamlet seeks to show his mother her perceived lechery and to guilt her conscience into ceasing sexual relations with Claudius. The ghost tells Hamlet of the “wicked wit and gifts, that have to power so to seduce!—won to his shameful lust the will of my most seeming-virtuous queen (45).” He further cautions Hamlet that “howsoever thou pursuest this act, taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive against thy mother aught. Leave her to heaven, and to those thorns that in her boson lodge to prick and sting her (85).” In this aspect, Hamlet’s need for justice is a bit more muddled. His anger stems onto not only Gertrude, but Ophelia and all women as well, and Hamlet spits bitterly to Ophelia that “God hath given you one face, and you make yourselves another”, implying that all women are two-faced and untrustworthy (145). It is never disclosed whether or not Gertrude conspired in the murder of the Elder Hamlet, or if she even loved Claudius at all. Queen Gertrude’s actions—affected by her innocence or guilt—subtly alter the meanings in many scenes of the play, but none so keenly as Act 5, Scene 2, where her drinking from the poisoned cup is meant to be read as either a warning to Hamlet (if she was innocent) or simply an unlucky accident (if she was guilty). The significance of these readings is that on one front, Hamlet’s actions towards his mother are justified in principle, while on the other front, they are misplaced and unwarranted. If Gertrude was indeed innocent and Hamlet’s anger towards her was mistaken, the sense of righteous revenge and justice he holds so dear throughout the play takes a serious blow. When Hamlet eventually confronts his mother, he rebuts her pleas for reason with “a bloody deed—almost as bad, god-mother, as kill a king and marry with his brother,” to which Gertrude responds “as kill a king? (28)” This is read as either Gertrude’s shame materializing as she realizes her son now knows of her guilt, or her genuine confusion because she is innocent. There are many complexities within Hamlet’s relationship with Gertrude, and the fact that they have never been resolved means that we must continue questioning the place of justice in the play.
We pass on from The Tragedy of Hamlet to the comedy The Merchant of Venice, focusing specifically on the enigma that is Shylock. Shylock is obsessed with getting Antonio’s pound of flesh for payment, and goes to great extremes to get his due. The audience develops some measure of sympathy for Shylock throughout the play, beginning in Act 1, Scene 3 where Shylock points out in an extremely moving and passion-filled speech that “you call me misbeliever, cut-throat, dog, and spit upon my Jewish gabardine, and all for use of that which is mine own… go to, then. You come to me, and you say ‘Shylock, we would have moneys’—you say so, you, that did void your rheum upon my beard, and foot me as you spurn a stranger cur over your threshold… what should I say to you? Should I not say ‘hath a dog money? Is it possible a cur can mend three thousand ducats?’ Or shall I bend low, and in a bondman’s key, with bated breath and whisp’ring humbleness say this: ‘Fair sir, you spat on me Wednesday last; you spurned me such a day; another time you called me dog; and for those courtesies I’ll lend you thus much moneys?’” (125) His speech, as well as Antonio’s curt and (what some audience members would view as) cruel response, did much to draw audience sympathy to Shylock and humanize him. His efforts to achieve his version of justice resulted in the complete loss of his identity, both through losing part of his livelihood, and through being forcefully converted to Christianity, where he would be isolated from his old community and hated by his new one. It is important to remember that in the moments where Shylock’s version of justice is being thwarted, another form of justice, spearheaded by Portia (disguised as a young male judge), is rearing its head in victory. That is both the beautiful and frustrating part of justice in The Merchant of Venice; it’s completely based on perception for many of the pivotal scenes. The fact alone that this play is categorized as a comedy when the actual justice from Portia’s sentence is questioned on some levels ought to make us slightly uncomfortable.
By offering incomplete solutions to the complex problems present in many of the plays, the mood of all-inclusive rejoicing is often dampened. The delicate balance in The Merchant of Venice is sometimes still tipped by a particularly convincing Shylock actor, and the play seems less like a comedy about the victory of clever heroine Portia and more about the tragedy of Shylock, the Jew of Venice. Justice in the hands of Portia and Venetian Society in the final moments of the play serve to heighten the nuanced interpretations we can draw from the play; where an outcome is not completely desirable or just to all parties. Likewise, though Hamlet’s pursuit of Claudius is warranted, different interpretations about the innocence of Gertrude raise doubts about how we ought to interpret the appropriateness of Hamlet’s actions. Both plays offer distinct ways in which to interpret justice in Shakespeare’s works, and the fact that Hamlet is a flawed hero while Shylock is not simply a “villain” yields much for us to further contemplate. We are left with concepts that there may be “problem plays,” or endings that we are not completely satisfied with. In the end, Shakespeare paints a picture of justice the way it appears in the real world; as something not black and white at all, but rather of many shades of grey in between.
Contemporary readers may never assemble the complete image, but that may be because there simply isn’t one way to interpret Shakespeare’s words, just as there is no single and supreme Justice. Perhaps this is why, interpretations laid bare, we alone are the final judges for what we chose to believe.
Bibliography
Shakespeare, William, and Stanley Wells. William Shakespeare: The Complete Works. 5th Edition. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1988. 653-690, 425-451. Print.
A ‘COUPLE’ OF CONTRASTS: SOCIAL CLASS, SOCIAL COMMENTARY, AND APOLOGIES IN A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM (E321)
Feburary 19th, 2013.
The Prezi presented with it is available online here.
Through evaluating the criteria for partners as well as the comic structure of the play, we assert that A Midsummer Night’s Dream is not meant to be read as a true representation of marriage in Elizabethan England, but rather as social commentary towards it, and also how Shakespeare preempts any public outcries against his message.
In science, inertia is defined by how the weight of the object creates a force that resists change; the heavier the object, the more effort it takes to move. Marriage laws have always carried great weight in society, and so could be said to also have tremendous inertia. Convention held that though one could find love in marriage, marrying purely for it was foolish. According to Dr. Ingram in Love, Sex and Marriage, major factors like age, social class, bloodline, and occupation took precedent in the decision for a mate, and parents often made arranged matches months or years beforehand. Though lower class children sometimes had greater freedom to voice their opinions on the matter, no class was completely immune to the standards of matrimonial selection. With the alternatives to marriage –like joining a covenant- dwindling by the beginning of the 16th century, women who remained unmarried were perceived as being burdens to their families. Keeping these marital realities in mind when analyzing A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Egeus’s claim for Hermia to marry or die becomes less alien and more closely resembles the unspoken will of many other father figures in Elizabethan England.
Though our play is set during mythic Greece (since Theseus is cousins with Hercules), the catalyst for action in the play is still a harsh marriage law, not altogether removed from those proposed during the status quo in England. We quickly depart from traditional society as the young people enter the Green World of the forest, where all conventions come into question and nothing is sacred. The misunderstandings that take place in that wooded area are so complicated and absurd that the audience finds humor in it, where like Aphrodite and Ares in Hephaestus’s trap, each effort to break free only results in being knotted tighter. The ending scenes work to untangle the knots, and Theseus overrules Egeus’s will at the end of the play. Northrop Frye published in is Anatomy of Criticism that comedy is “usually a movement from one kind of society to another,” with couple pairing off and all the loose ends and conflicts neatly packaged and resolved by the final act (163). The new society triumphs over its traditional counterpart, where the New Comic Society that emerges represents a moral norm with “ideas that are seldom defined or formulated… we are simply given to understand that the newly-married couple will live happily ever after (169)”. As the audience, we are expected to embrace the pragmatically free society prima facie and not ask how it’s possible or what problems it could have. The “happy endings do not impress us as true, but as desirable, and they are brought about by manipulation” (Frye 170). Even with the last curtain call, the audience is left with lingering questions that call into question the authenticity of the play’s resolutions.
Our argument is that the play was not meant to be a true representation of marriage, but rather to provide social commentary on it. There are three main pieces of textual evidence to support this. First, the love-juice is never removed from the eyes of Demetrius, bringing into question how much of the “love” for Helena is actually the flower and not his true intentions. Though Demetreus himself does not question by “what power… [his] love to Hermia melted as the snow… and all the faith, virtue of my heart, the object and the pleasure of [his] eye, [became] only Helena,” the audience does (59). This ominous question is glossed over, as we are to assume that like the rest of the events in the play, everything ends happily ever after. Though left unaddressed verbally by the text, our minds call it into responsibility and it therefore warrants mention. Secondly, the tragedy of Pyramus and Thisbe is acted so poorly that it becomes humorous. Introduced as “a tedious brief scene of… very tragical mirth,” the constant mispronunciations, ridiculous cast members, and general poor acting rampant in all cast members, the duke and couple of lovers watching are reduces to unsympathetic mirth by the closing acts (65). The theme of the theater being disconnecting with reality is reflected in the play at large since it is also not a true model of love and marriage. Finally, Bottom and Titania’s relationship is a representation of the differences between upper and lower-class, and how the differences between the two classes are ultimately insurmountable, even with the powers of the Green World. Much like Malvolio in Twelfth Night, the audience realizes the impossibility (and thus, the humor) of the pairing. Cast not only as an unskilled laborer but also as possessing many personal flaws, Bottom’s simultaneous nonchalance about the powerful Titania’s sudden love for him and unawareness of the fact that Puck has transformed his head into that of an ass mark the pinnacle of his foolish arrogance. Despite overcoming some social norms, other orthodoxies can simply not be surmounted in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. The audience realizes the absurdity of the situation and so finds it humorous, but we also see the social commentary of class differences and how Shakespeare, though challenging some conventions in the play, leaves others intact. Upon waking from the spell of the love potion, Titania incredulously asks how she became “enamor’d of an ass… O! How mine eyes do loathe his visage now” (56). With these three examples to reference to, we can employ this juxtaposition of class, as well as several other social issues throughout the play, to pay proper homage to the marital realities of Elizabethan England and the transitions it was going through.
I don’t believe that Shakespeare intended for the play to accurately reflect marriage norms of the time. Through Bottom and Titania, the absurd play-within-a-play, and the dubious love potion to replace love, some elements of A Midsummer Night’s Dream actually more closely resemble a burlesque. Defined as a “form of comedy characterized by distortion where honest emotions may be turned to sentimentality and a serious subject may be treated frivolously,” though certainly not to the level of The Importance of Being Earnest, there are still some lingering elements of it seen through the outbursts of love throughout the play. Love, the sometimes most exalted emotion of Romantic history, is treated with a sense of carelessness in the play, rendering each otherwise sincere proclamations of devotion by the young men into a funny joke. We see that love, as well as marriage laws, and in “nearly all cases where legal matters come into question, Shakespeare’s dramatic articulation alludes to actual English legal problems, enigmas, or ambiguities” (Sokol 9). However, Shakespeare, even in making social commentary, was careful to sidestep the toes of sensitive nobility that might garner offense if his play was interpreted as inflammatory.
We can only really understand this assertion if we first consider audience background further to examine what impacts the play had on it. In On Obidience by Homily, we see that the authority given to God is expected to also transfer onto local social powers, where “thus we learne by the word of GOD, to yeeld to our king, that is due to our king: that is, honour, obedience, payments of due taxes, customes, tributes, subsidies, love and feare. Thus wee know partly our bounden duties to common authority, now let us learne to accomplish the same. And let us most instantly and heartily pray to GOD, the onely authour of all authority, for all them that be in authority” (Homily 2). The realities of English society at the time certainly didn’t end in pomp and revelry for all the couples involved. More likely, many young people were paired with another person of similar background and wealth and had to either learn to love them or spend a lifetime being a passionless partner in an undesired marriage. In terms of the legal perspective, Writs Circumspecte Agatis and Articuli Cleri, 1285 and 1315 respectively, let church courts preside over legal issues in marriage until the 19th century. In addition, in Tamburlaine by Christopher Marlowe, the eponymous character is a peasant rebel who, while doomed to failure, seizes power and founds his own religion. Though there were many other factors, this play sparked the start of many rumors, and Marlowe was later arrested and tried for treason, but was murdered a few days later. Though Shakespeare was part of The King’s Men (1564-1616) by his writing of MND (1596), attacks on authority would still have not been tolerated.
Shakespeare was keenly aware of this, and the prologue of the play-within-a-play, as well as Puck’s ending monologue, highlight these concerns and preempt any audience objections by apologizing for any offenses taken. Though punctuated to take the opposite meaning (which yields meaning in itself), Quince tells us in the prologue of The Tragedy of Pyramus and Thisbe that “If we offend, it is with our good will. That you should think, we come not to offend, but with good will” (67). His intent, though poorly delivered, still tries to convey the message of pardon if the audience is insulted by anything in the play. This sentiment is mirrored in a more serious way with Robin Goodfellow’s final monologue, which closes the play. Like the clowns of kingly courts in many other Shakespeare plays, Robin hides wisdom under a mask of jokes and light-hearted trickery. Shakespeare finds his voice through this flighty puck at last, and closes with the lines “if we shadows have offended, think but this, and all is mended, that you have but slumber’d here while these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, no more yielding but a dream, Gentle, do not reprehend: if you pardon, we will mend” (79). The delicate balance between acceptable humor and potentially provocative social commentary was tremendously balanced throughout the play, and these subtle words by Puck are meant to soothe any dissatisfactions of the upper class. Though we chose to see the light comedy as imbued with seeds of social commentary, the Bard gives all of the viewers the ultimate choice of interpretation, willing us to open our eyes through the smoke and mirrors and “see as thou wast wont to see” (56).
Bibliography
Frye, Northrop. “The Mythos of Spring: Comedy.” Anatomy of Criticism; Four Essays. Princeton: Princeton UP, 1957. 163-85. Print.
“Homily on Obedience.” Homily on Obedience. University of Toronto, n.d. Web. 07 Feb. 2013.
Ingram, Martin. “Love, Sex and Marriage.” Shakespeare: An Oxford Guide. By Stanley Wells and Lena Cowen. Orlin. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2003. 115-26. Print.
“Marlowe, Christopher.” Arts and Humanities Through the Eras. Ed. Edward I. Bleiberg, et al. Vol. 4: Renaissance Europe 1300-1600. Detroit: Gale, 2005. 352-353. Gale Virtual Reference Library. Web. 17 Feb. 2013.
Shakespeare, William. A Midsummer Night’s Dream. 2012. A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Ed. Douglas Bruster. N.p.: n.p., n.d. 73-147. Print.
Sokol, B. J., and Mary Sokol. Shakespeare, Law, and Marriage. 1st Ed. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2003. 42-56. eBook.
SOCIAL AND CULTURAL ANALYSIS IN THINGS FALL APART: A COLLECTION OF ESSAYS
Disclaimer
This essay collection was written under the guidance of Professor Daniel Birkholz of the University of Texas at Austin and submitted via paper and email copy on December 15, 2012. The class it was written for is Reading Literature in Context (34680). This formal essay represents a compilation of efforts.
I, Luyou Sun, do not claim academic rights to any parts in this production that were not written by me. I recognize that the essays are the complete and undisputed intellectual property of their respective authors as outlined in the current US Copyright Law and Regulations. I will neither distribute this material for monetary gain nor claim credit where credit is not due. Any material by other authors published on this website are for reference only. No copyright infringement intended.To my collaborators
Your promptness and cheerfulness made this project much more bearable than it might have otherwise been. Thank you for being so cooperative and insightful about Things Fall Apart, tertiary sources, and life in general. It was a pleasure working with all of you. Authors
Luyou Sun
Samantha Tedford
Aradine Stephenson Table of Contents
Luyou Sun………………………………………………………………………………………. “Food for Thought: Yams, Colonialism, and Fear of Death”
Samantha Tedford…………………………………………..“Fire, Okonkwo, and Okonkwo’s Fire: The Relationship Between Guns, Passion, and Isolation”
Aradine Stephenson……………………………“The Application of Chi: The Analysis of both the Physical and Psychological Colonization of the Igbo Tribe”Introduction
Referred to as “New Imperialism,” the process of invasion and colonization of African territory by European powers began in 1881. In the history books, this period ended in 1914. For many people and cultures, however, imperialism is not a vague epithet but a harsh reality. The colonial period proper in Nigeria lasted from 1900 to 1960, but its effects and the weakening of indigenous culture continue today. Chinua Achebe saw this too clearly in the struggles of Nigeria and also of Africa as a whole; Okonkwo’s story has been written countless times in communities around the world.
Achebe employs powerful themes like death, masculinity, fear, isolation, and sacrifice in his writing, but in fusing them together, we are left with no words that can label the complex essence of human identity. Instead, we try to piece together the fragments on our own, where even as Things Fall Apart, we must face the challenges of contemporary society both through literature and our own lives. Achebe challenges us to neither hastily blame nor conclude truths about “good” or “bad” too quickly, because in terms of both skin color and reality, it’s not just black and white. Food for Thought: Yams, Colonialism, and Fear of Death
By: Luyou Sun
Often, in productions as well as written works, food is taken for granted. Sometimes food is designed to set the scene and nothing else, and the specific foods are not mentioned because there is no significance behind them. This is not the case in Things Fall Apart, where yams have several deeper symbolic meanings. With their thick, fleshy leaves and muscular roots, they are not only the staple crop for the Igbo people, but a part of their identity. We might even go as far as saying that “it is the symbolic use of a food that is valued most by people, not it’s nutritional composition” (Kittler 7). We will first address the significance of yams on the micro scale of Okonkwo’s life, and then move onto the macro scale of Nigerian culture as a whole.
Even in a land where crops are coaxed out of the earth in the midst of dry spells and torrential rain where every planting season is a gamble, yams are known for their difficulty to grow. “During the planting season Okonkwo worked daily on his farms from cock-crow until the chickens went to roost” (Achebe 13). The yielding of yams is considered honorable because though sowing and maintaining them is arduous, the rewards the Igbo people harvest afterwards are immense. Stated twice in the book in a similar fashion, “yam, the king of crops, was a very exacting king,” and “yam, the king of crops, was a man’s crop.” (Achebe 33) (Achebe 23). The representation of yams as somehow sovereign shows its importance in the Igbo diet and culture. Providing more carbohydrate-based nutritional value than corn or other crops, “yams stood for manliness, and he who could feed his family on yams from one harvest to another was a very great man indeed.” (Achebe 33). Besides the assurance that you wouldn’t starve before the next planting season, the cultivation of yams represents the perseverance of an ancient culture and lifestyle.
Okonkwo grasped onto the notion that hard work and a resolute, masculine outlook is enough to extract someone from the dregs of near-poverty and thrust them into success. He began his career literally from the ground up with yam seeds. The much needed possibility of rising out of his father’s shadow by hard work materialized when Nwakibie gives Okonkwo his first seeds of hope, because “for a young man whose father had no yams, there was no other way.” (Achebe 22). With the boundless energy present in the “enterprising novelistic hero” of Ashcroft’s world, Okonkwo threw his will and might into farming, for only then could he prove himself worthy of trust and wives (Ashcroft 71). “Anyone who knew [Okonkwo’s] grim struggle against poverty and misfortune could not say he had been lucky” because he had certainly not waited for a benevolent spirit to crack nuts into his palms (Achebe 27). Once Okonkwo became successful, his prosperity was measured by the size of his yam barn—the physical evidence of how far he’d come with his determination.
It’s critical to note that during emotionally straining times, there is often a lack or refusal of food. Upon first arriving in Okonkwo’s compound, Ikemefuna would not eat. When Okonkwo heard this, he “came into the hut with a big stick in his hand and stood over [Ikemefuna] while he swallowed his yams, trembling. A few moments later [Ikemefuna] went behind the hut and began to vomit painfully” (Achebe 28). Fear gripped Ikemefuna’s heart and caused him to repel food, because often when we are distressed, one of the first things that appears is lack of appetite an sometimes downright rejection of it, mentally or physically. This fear, Said says, is based on seeing Okonkwo as the “authority of the community” that espouses communal beliefs, who is “representative most often is the family but also is the nation,” if we consider nation as the Igbo tribe (Ashcroft 77). During periods of grief, Okonkwo also rejects nourishment and his definition of masculinity, and “did not taste any food for two days after the death of Ikemefuna.” (Achebe 63). Okonkwo seemed to be suffering through emotional trauma that was worsened by denial, and we can see that what he thought was emasculating him was in fact grief, which can be very manly. The rejection of all feelings other than anger is a shielding mechanism that protects from disappointment, and though Okonkwo is a great warrior, his emotional shield suffers dents and holes. In the wake of his most hopeless moments, Okonkwo asks himself, “when did you become a shivering old woman?… How can a man who has killed five men in battle fall to pieces because he has added a boy to their number? Okonkwo, you have become a woman indeed” (65). We can see here that the masculinity that Okonkwo prescribes to is largely a manifestation of his worries of being like his disappointing father. When Okonkwo thinks of his “father’s weakness and failure… he expelled it by thinking about his own strength and success… His mind went to his latest show of manliness” (66). When we then consider that the event he’s referring to is the killing of Ikemefuna, where “he was afraid of being thought weak, (61)” we can see the direct relationship between fear and Okonkwo’s “manliness”.
When we consider food and yams in this new light, we can see several places where Okonkwo exaggerates his stoicism to a fault because he perceives his father as weak. Since we recognize that Okonkwo’s “masculinity” is just a shield for his fears, we see that yams, too, are less of a symbol for rigorous and masculine work and better characterize his worries. Okonkwo is “worried about Nwoye. A bowl of pounded yams can throw him in a wrestling match” (66). This seemingly light-hearted and inconsequential aside becomes interesting when we see that to Okonkwo, yams are masculinity and he is afraid his son will not live up to be a true man. If we accept the “underlying hierarchy of family, property, nation” that Ashcroft illustrates, we can see that Okonkwo’s anxieties about his son’s failure are manifested through these three points (Ashcroft 79). The economic and social stability that the Igbo culture espouses, as well as the sense of accomplishment in titles granted in comparison to other tribesmen, is at risk. This personal fear that his son will not be successful, however, is reinforced by a greater fear: the death of Okonkwo’s way of life.
Okonkwo is one of the last of members of a tribe whose customs and sacred beliefs are under attack. Okonkwo may subconsciously be afraid of becoming what Eric Wolf calls “people without History” (Said 64). By marking his sights on ascending the social ladder since childhood, Okonkwo becomes so fixated on the old order that he cannot adapt to changes. Much like a tree with a trunk so rigid that it cannot bend in a storm and eventually breaks, Okonkwo strains and finally snaps under the social bonds that have become too alien for him to function in. The other members of his village are able to bow like grass on the savannah; consequently, they survive through the pressure of the elements. The power of adapting provides a constant challenge to animals everywhere and has forced many noble creatures to submit or perish. Other members of the Igbo tribe were able to carry on in the wake of the colonists, but Okonkwo was not and suffered the consequences. It’s worth noting that there are very few trees in Africa’s grassland.
Okonkwo’s death ends the novel, but several things happened immediately as well as gradually afterwards that made his death even more powerful. If suicide was committed by hanging from a tree, which was the case with Okonkwo, no one was permitted to touch or to bring the corpse down from the tree. When the corpse was finally brought down, able-bodied men in the community cut that tree down with sharp cutlasses and axes. This was done as a precaution to prevent another person from committing suicide on the same tree, and also because the tree is regarded as an “evil” or “bad” tree (Ukwu 5). The destruction of such life as tainted reflects the tainted nature that Okonkwo thinks has occurred in the minds of his clansmen. Said says that we “must take into account… both processes, that of imperialism and that of resistance to it” (Said 66). Things Fall Apart does this through the life and death of a man who was strong of hand but too fixed of heart, who chose to fall with the old order instead of coming to terms with the new. We see that Okonkwo is similar to the novelistic hero that Said describes as testing the boundaries of “what they can aspire to… novels therefore end with the death of a hero… who by virtue of overflowing energy does not fit into the orderly scheme of things” (Said 71). With the rise of the new European order, Okonkwo’s death can be seen as a literal interpretation of the struggles of the old order to survive. The “dialectic of place and displacement” (Ashcroft 9) forced the Igbo people to make many difficult choices, and the clansmen as a whole struggle to find the “identifying relationship between self and place, (Ashcroft 9)” that we need to feel secure. Just like a like a corpse where the physical body is identical to the man in life but some inherent spirit or essence of him is lost after death, so too do the Igbo people search in vain for traces of the old way of life that has been stained with colonialism.
Both an individual’s death and the death of a culture tie back into yams. According to Nigerian culture, if suicide was committed inside a yam barn, no yams would be removed from the barn. At times, a servant who was maltreated by a master would retaliate by committing suicide between the entrance to the animal house and the yam barn, because nothing would could removed from the master’s barn or from the animal house – the master would lose everything (Ukwu 5). The link between food and culture is made clearer when we also realize that the yam itself has been struggling in Nigeria since the rise of the trading that the Europeans brought in. There are “fears for such traditions as the cultivation of the crop, consumed by 60 million people on a daily basis in Africa alone, is under threat. ‘Instead of growing yams, Igbos have embraced trading,’ says Professor Felix Nweke of CNN, a development economist. ‘They are now only celebrating yams and not growing it.’” Mr. Aresa, a grieving Nigerian intellectual, says forcefully, “if we surrender our seeds or eggs, our most reliable weapons, and replace them with exotic seeds “eunuchs” that cannot propagate, we are bound to go for more as we run.” The running he is speaking of is the fatal departure from yam-growing, because after embracing the European-based trade, the interest for growing yams has decreased to such a level that Nigeria cannot feed itself. If the yam dies, a way of life dies with it. And that is truly something to be afraid of.Fire, Okonkwo, and Okonkwo’s Fire: The Relationship Between Guns, Passion, and Isolation
By: Samantha Tedford
As a bullet is expelled from a gun by firepower, so too was Okonkwo was outcast from his tribe, culture, and eventually, even himself. In this essay, we will explore the theme of “place and displacement” as proposed by Ashcroft in “The Empire Writes Back” in the post-colonial novel, “Things Fall Apart” by Chinua Achebe. Although the gun was the mode that led to the isolation of Okonkwo from his people, another kind of fire led to his ultimate isolation, his death.
In “Things Fall Apart,” guns are already present in the Ibo culture. No explanation is given as to how they are obtained or when they were introduced into the tribe, aside from a side note concerning a clever blacksmith; however, their foreign nature is apparent in their treatment by the Umuofia people. Okonkwo is known throughout the area for his outstanding prowess in wrestling and is commended for his bellicose attitude when counseling his tribe; yet, when it comes to using a gun, Okonkwo is entirely inept. When Okonkwo has just finished beating one of his wives by hand, he decides he will go hunting with his gun. However, it is immediately pointed out that Okonkwo was a poor gunman: “In fact he had not killed a rat with his gun. When he called Ikemefuna to fetch his gun, the wife who had just been beaten murmured something about guns that never shot” (39). This small occurrence immediately creates a rift in the story. Okonkwo is the epitome of what an Ibo man and Umuofia warrior should be in many ways. He is one of their best warriors and is respected by the entire tribe, and yet, he cannot shoot a gun to save his life. His lack of skill with a gun even sets him up for degradation from one of his wives even though it is made known early in the novel that emasculation is one of Okonkwo’s greatest abhorrences. In this manner, “the special post-colonial crisis of identity comes into being; the concern with the development or recovery of an effective identifying relationship between self and place” (Ashcroft 9). Okonkwo is everything his tribe could ask of him, until it comes to mastering a foreign skill. The gun’s ability to emasculate Okonkwo when no native tradition, ideal, or aptitude could demonstrate the colonists power to wedge between his culture and himself.
Although Okonkwo’s lack of skill with a gun originally did not cause a visible rift to be put between himself and his people, it did eventually lead to a physical distancing from his tribe. When at the burial of a well-known and esteemed tribe warrior, the dead man’s son collapses in a pool of his own blood following the celebratory firing of guns, Okonkwo’s inability to control a gun holds a heavy consequence: “Okonkwo’s gun had exploded and a piece of iron had pierced the boy’s heart… Violent deaths were frequent, but nothing like this had ever happened” (124). The outcome of Okonkwo’s accident is a very perceptible isolation from his tribe. Okonkwo is outcast from his people for seven years and forced to migrate to another village. Ashcroft targets this aspect of colonialism when he discusses dislocation. He says, “A valid and active sense of self may have been eroded by dislocation, resulting from migration” (9). Okonkwo’s sense of self was most certainly eroded when he was required to leave Umuofia. So much of Okonkwo’s life had been dedicated to creating a name for himself in the tribe and prospering, and suddenly everything he had worked for was stripped from him in an instance. Okonkwo’s sense of self heavily depended on his ability to be respected in his tribe. When he was forced to leave Umuofia, he lost his connection to his tribe, much of his life’s work and himself. Okonkwo’s dispelling from his tribe, inadvertently due to colonists, practically opened the doors for the actual presence of the colonists.
The relationship between the Ibo culture and guns is complex and often questionable. Although prowess in wrestling is valued above almost any other skill in the Umuofia tribe, many important tribesmen own guns. However, the distinction between when it is appropriate to use guns and when it is not is subtle. When the some of the tribe leaders were asked to visit the District Commissioner, they were armed only with machetes. It is said that, “They did not carry guns, for that would be unseemly” (193). This seemingly inappropriate behavior actually led to the tribesmen’s downfall when they were captured. Perhaps if they had taken guns with them, the colonists would have been more hesitant to attack them or they would have been able to fight off their assailants. However, as it were, taking guns to visit another group of people seemed inappropriate to the tribesmen. This demonstrates the weakness in the tribe’s knowledge of the colonists. Although the tribesmen owned the guns, the colonizers had more control over them. The guns betrayed the Umuofia leaders because of their lack of understanding of proper situations. The tribe’s physical strength was diminished “by cultural denigration, the conscious and unconscious oppression of the indigenous personality and culture by a supposedly superior racial or cultural model” (Ashcroft 9). The tribe’s naivety and undeserved trust of the colonists led to their exploitation. The Umuofia’s own culture was demonstrated to be inexperienced and weak when it came to guns. It automatically placed the colonists in a position of more power simply due to their deeper understanding of firearms.
Okonkwo’s zeal is easily detected in “Things Fall Apart.” It is made known early in the novel that “Okonkwo was ruled by one passion- to hate everything that his father Unoka had loved. One of those things was gentleness and another was idleness” (13). Okonkwo’s father’s life was one full of failure and weakness in Okonkwo’s eyes. Therefore, his life goal was to defy the past laid down by his father and become successful and strong. Okonkwo’s demeanor was also affected by this shift in his purpose; “Okonkwo never showed any emotion openly, unless it be the emotion of anger. To show affection was a sign of weakness; the only thing worth demonstrating was strength” (28). These combined characteristics of Okonkwo kindled a fire of sorts to grow within him. In fact, “Okonkwo was popularly called the ‘Roaring Flame.’ …He was a flaming fire” (153). His anger and determination to demonstrate strength in everything he did became a danger to his life. It caused him to be reprimanded when he beat one of his wives during Peace Week, it caused him to murder the head messenger of the colonists, and finally, it led to his disgraceful death. Okonkwo’s inability to be given a proper burial was the ultimate isolation from his culture. Not only was he divided from his people due to his vehement rejection of the colonists’ imposition and consequential death, but he was disgraced after death when he was not given a respectful burial just like his father. His own tribe could not ignore their tradition that “’It is an abomination for a man to take his own life. It is an offense against the Earth, and a man who commits it will not be buried by his clansmen… Only strangers can…now he will be buried like a dog…’” (208-209). This crucial isolation from his personal goals, reputation, and culture are all due, in the end, to his unbridled passion; his internal fire.
Therefore, in the end, although the issues of place and displacement, community and isolation, and acceptance and denigration can be blamed on the actions of the colonists, Okonkwo himself was responsible for his suicide and final ignominy in his tribe. The firepower of his gun caused his temporary displacement, but his internal fire instigated a displacement and dishonor from which he could never return.
The Application of Chi: The Analysis of both the Physical and Psychological Colonization of the Igbo Tribe
By: Aradine Stephenson
Postcolonial literature focuses on highlighting the differences between the colonizers and the colonized. Literary works such as Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart are examples of the evils of imperialism and the imposition of western culture and identity onto other individuals. However, one could argue that the Igbo people were not “free” before the Europeans rode into Africa on their high horse, but were in fact unknowingly enslaved by the social stigmas and traditions put in place by their own tribal elders. These elders created the cultural identity of Achebe’s Igbo clan by colonizing and molding the minds of the tribe. Okonkwo, the central figure in the work, battles the question of who holds the power of one’s chi (fate). In fact, it may be that an individual’s chi is not really a personal destiny, but a device conceived in order for the creators to exert control over the people. Perhaps the Christians came to colonize the culture, but the people of the Igbo tribe had been psychologically colonized all along.
In the Igbo culture, a person’s success depended upon the quality of their chi. Consequently, whether a person prospered or failed was dependent upon whether or not “his chi or personal god was good”. Alternatively, the tribe also held the belief that “when a man says yes his chi says yes also” (Achebe 27). On the surface it appears as if the tribal ancestors are passing this faith down to their children because they themselves believed in the power of the gods. This would mean that a person could work hard and improve his or her fate, but the gods had the final say. On a deeper level, this cultural identity may have been instilled in the tribe from the start in order to lend power to the tribal elders and ensure that the members of the tribe had certain limits placed on their possible ascendency. This idea implies that the elders of the clan had already mentally colonized the Igbo tribe in order to increase their strength. Edward Said declares that over the course of a post-colonial novel, the hero’s experiences show “the limits of what [he] can aspire to, where [he] can go, what [he] can become” (Said 71). Tribal elders fear the implications of allowing men like Okonkwo to hold too much sway in the tribe. They will allow him to be a member of the spiritual council, but the tribe elders uphold hegemony. Okonkwo’s rash actions and strong will could work to undermine their own authority. Whether subconsciously or wittingly, this apprehension may be why the tribe’s original founders chose a deconstructed form of government and founded tribal beliefs that advocated for tolerance of other cultures and respect for old traditions and elders. By not allowing power to be concentrated in the hands of a single young and reactionary man, the tribal leaders were hoping to ensure their consistent power with little clan dissent.
Post-colonial writings are manufactured to emphasize the subordination of the conquered people whom are “subject to the political, imaginative, and social control involved in the relationship between the colonizer and colonized” (Ashcroft, Griffiths, and Tiffin 29). The tribal elders rule the clansmen by reinforcing the importance of the chi and similar tribal practices. Social interactions such as the relationship between genders and families are influenced by the power that comes from the Igbo titles that encircle a worthy man’s ankle. In another cultural practice in which masked clan members make court decisions for the tribe, the clan has been taught to believe that tribal leaders are the vessel through which the mysterious gods exert their authority. Richard Merelman, a professor of cultural and psychological politics at the University of Wisconsin, asserts that the process of dominating a human’s mind involves “influencing subordinates to accept domination as morally correct, and to bow peacefully before superior power rather than to collapse before overwhelming force” (Merelman 276). If a person wholeheartedly believes a practice or ritual to be morally correct, they will live their life accordingly. Therefore, if one man feels that he is entitled to leadership and respect because of his own successes, the tribal elders have the clout to quiet his hunger for power by attributing his triumphs to his chi, and not his own hard work, and the clan will support their action. In Things Fall Apart, the elders tell Okonkwo that “those whose palm-kernels were cracked for them by a benevolent spirit should not forget to be humble” (Achebe 26). This notion contrasts the earlier notion that a man could change his fortune if he would put in the effort. The tribal leaders exert “social control” over the other members of the tribe by using the title system to encourage hard work to improve the clan by improving the individual self. If the elders feel that a man’s pride had grown dangerous, they can use their power to refute the idea that a dedicated man can overcome a bad chi.
Psychological colonization of an individual allows one person to exert power over another regardless of physical strength. Elders in the Igbo tribe threaten the wrath of the gods as punishment because they themselves do not have enough strength to subdue Okonkwo. In order to control a man in the Igbo tribe, one only needed to convince him that “a man could not rise beyond the destiny of his chi” (Achebe 131). Convincing a man that nothing within his power will enable him to overcome a struggle will eventually lead him to crack under pressure. In Arthur Conan Doyle’s story The Boscombe Valley Mystery, a man’s mental defeat drives him to commit murder. He describes how “it drove [him] mad to think that [he] and all that [he] held most dear should be in the power of such a man” (Doyle 67). Not having a say in the design of one’s own life leaves him or her incapable of defending himself or herself from those who wish to use him or her for their own purpose. Once an individual has accepted that their dominators are “morally correct”, they will allow the controller to establish the laws (Merelman 276). The trick is to subtly incorporate the new culture with the old until the lines have become blurred and the dominant group can redraw them. When a man is convinced that everything he stands for and believes in is false, he is made malleable to other cultures that desire to mold him to fit their needs.
The imposition of power onto a certain group of people is based on the concept that one group is superior to another. In Things Fall Apart, the English colonizer Reverend James Smith “saw things as black and white. And black was evil” (Achebe 184). The goal of the colonizer was to change the culture of the Igbo people so that it fell in line with European beliefs. This gives the impression that the colonizers viewed the Africans as an inferior race because of the differences in their cultural identity. The literary criticism “The Empire Writes Back”, describes D. E. S. Maxwell’s proposition that “identity is constituted by difference” between the colonizers and the colonized (Ashcroft, Griffiths, and Tiffin 26). Therefore, the European hegemony did not necessarily have to come about through physical domination of the Igbo people, but instead a mental pacification of the tribal beliefs could suffice. Therein, by becoming acquainted with the clansmen, the white men were able to learn “more about their different beliefs” (Achebe 179). This knowledge enlightened the Europeans on how best to suppress the identity of the African culture. This control could be established peacefully and respectfully (as Mr. Brown employed), or by brute force (as Mr. Smith chose to exert). The Christians asserted power over the tribe by convincing them that “all the gods [they] have named are not gods at all” (Achebe 146). By altering what the tribe believed to be the truth and the rules of life, the colonizers were able to convince the people to fall in line with European doctrines.
The Igbo tribe did not welcome the Christian culture with open arms, but their willingness to let the white man into their midst left them vulnerable to the ideas that the Europeans dispensed. The tribe allowed the white men to bring their church to the clansmen, and they unknowingly allotted the Christians the land and economic influence they would need to change the “center of [the tribe’s] religion and trade and government” (Achebe 174). The elders used mental colonization to place cultural barriers around the minds of the people in an attempt to protect their power over the clan. These very structures that kept the clan decentralized had weakened their resolve against the imperial outsiders. Cultural practices, such as allowing the Christians to worship their own God, mixed with the decision to allow members of the African clan to attend the white man’s school instead of being educated by the telling of ancestral tales allowed the white men to “put a knife on the things that held [the tribe] together”, and caused the tribe’s unity and identity to “[fall] apart” (Achebe 176).
The motivation of colonization is to eliminate the “difference” and enforce conformity (26). Fear of the unknown leads people to find unwarranted danger in diversity. This fear invokes the need to remove dissent in order to retain power over the people. Just as the “mighty tree branches broke away under [the swarm of locust], and the whole country became the brown-earth color of the vast, hungry swarm”, the strength and individuality of the Igbo people broke down under the power of the Europeans (Achebe 56). Both the leaders of the clan and the European outsiders who subdued the tribes employed a psychological method in order to convince the natives that a certain group was superior. Colonization ignited by the desire for power, whether by the tribe or the Christians, is like a disease that contaminates the water supply and spreads to all whom come in contact with the wellspring. The ideas are free flowing and so even if a person does not take anything from this supply directly, they will be contaminated by those around them and will be integrated into the new culture and beliefs. In order to survive the forced integration, they must be willing to take in some of the ideas of the colonizers. Okonkwo was unable to adapt to the influx of European ideas, and the inflexibility and fear that made him dangerous to those in power also led to his eventual downfall. An individual’s chi is not a personal god that administers glory or failure. It is a social construct imagined by people who seek to create and preserve their sovereignty over others.Conclusion
Amazingly, “more than three quarters of the people living in the world today have had their lives shaped by the experience of colonialism” (Ashcroft 1). When put in this context, “postcolonial literature” suddenly seems like a superfluous distinction; what we are really examining is the literature of the contemporary world. The themes that have been explored in the above essays – masculinity, death, food, fear, religion, sacrifice – are perpetual facets of the human experience. But European colonialism added to them a dimension that will forever live in literature.
Perhaps there is no better historian than a novel, and surely no better commemoration of the Ibo tribe and its interaction with and response to imperialism than Things Fall Apart. In the way the tribe’s ordeal is symbolic of that of all the colonies, ultimately Chinua Achebe’s work speaks to the formation of today’s world. Through it, we can always remember.
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RULE OF LAW, LAW OF RULE (CTI 302 OPTIONAL ESSAY)
Due: November 30th, 2012
“Paper Topic #5: Discuss what Aristotle means by justice in Politics III, and whether either the regime proposed in III.11 or an absolute kingship of the most virtuous person (III.17) is genuinely just.”
America: the land of the free and home of the politically detached average citizen. If our modern-day democracy would have failed Aristotle’s test of legitimate government, we beget the question, “which would?” The answer, in terms of a polity or kingship, is much more nebulous than first glance would suggest. We will give an overview of a mixed polity and move towards the legitimacy of this type of government, addressing both the satisfactory and unsatisfactory ways it attempts to answer the question of government. We will do the same for kingships, and then reach a conclusion of the most effective type of rule.
The social structure of ancient Greece allowed for much less of the population to have any participation in government. Excluding children, slaves, women, and the vulgar mechanics, the polity would be considering the average voting citizen only. Aristotle begins the discussion of a mixed polity in earnest in Book 3, Chapter 11, where he gives what is titled as a “partial solution” in terms of it. He details within that since government participation is the highest virtue in man since man is by nature a political creature, depriving them of this right is unjust. Aristotle brings the two forms of justice into play, where the two central ideas are: giving each their due and benefiting the common good. Since the common good, ie: the good if the city, is called into question, it is shown that every man must have a say in government, for depriving them of that virtue is contrary to the good of the city and should therefore avoided. “In that case, everyone else, not being privileged with political office, will be deprived of office. For offices, we say, are honors, and when the same people are always ruling, the rest must be necessarily be deprived of honors” (1281a28). The implications of this statement paint politics as not a secondary concern but something that which all men should strive for. Without a say in government, Aristotle argues that we cannot become fully realized human beings.
Further applying Aristotle’s definition of justice and it’s facets to the idea of a mixed polity, we discover the nuances the question poses. Among the three just types of government, Aristotle points out that the people have a right in government collectively because by doing so, the common good of the city is achieved and all citizens are fulfilled. This assertion, by the second definition of justice, also details the ways in which a mixed polity may in fact be superior to an aristocracy or kingship. Aristotle makes several analogies for this, the first being a communal feast, and how is it grander than a meal furnished by only one (1281a42). He asserts also that by cobbling together the virtues of everyone, they, as a collective whole, will rule more virtuously than the more virtuous few. In the example where each person will “judge a part and all the whole,” Aristotle employs this passage from 3.11 to illustrate the sentiment that though there may not be any individual claim to rule, en masse, there is some justification. Aristotle uses the example of Solon, who got rid of Draconian laws and paved the way for Athenian democracy, as a desirable example of a mixed polity success (1281b31).
The argument for polity rule, though, makes an interesting case for those who are greater in virtue. Just like the fine hand that is too glorious for the rest of the statue, or the chorale member that sings too loudly or beautifully for the rest of the choir, so too must the sentiments of the most virtuous be excommunicated for the greater good (1284b3). The example of Aristotle and the Argonauts comes up as an example of expulsion, and he is banished precisely because the crew realizes he far surpasses them. The justification of the polity necessarily means the invalidation of the virtues of the best, since by fulfilling the common good we must compromise giving each their due. Here, the tension and conflict between the two types of justice are most evident. There is a sense that by satisfying one, we are minimizing the other. Aristotle concedes this, but claims that since polity creates general welfare for a majority of the citizens, political exile and other sacrifices are justified.
When examining the defense of a mixed polity, however, we can note several logical inconsistencies. The first is that by giving common people political rule, the fair due of the most virtuous—more share in political power—is reduced and consequently unjust. By making the assertion at the end of just defense of a polity, a claim is that a city of disenfranchised people is “a city of enemies” (1281b21). Therefore, Aristotle awards a say in government to the collective not by any legitimate warrant or inherent virtue, but because it’d be politically unwise to do otherwise. Furthermore, Aristotle brings up an essential foil to polity: the case of an individual of such superior virtue that he is justified in a kingship. The disenfranchisement of the citizens is excused as necessary and good in this situation. Finally, there lies a logical fallacy in the argument for polity that the virtues of the ruler and the ruled differ by Prudence, where though the virtues of a good man and serious citizen are different, the best rulers and people have both, In a mixed polity, where everyone has a share in government, entire communities would be pressed to have prudence, though in the first few sentences of Chapter 11, Aristotle makes it clear that they do not. To be ruled by one with much greater virtue and right to rule, then, makes a strong claim.
The flaws in a mixed polity now apparent, Aristotle turns to the one virtuous ruler in earnest, particularly in Chapters 13 and 17. When there is one so much more so entitled to rule, it would be insensible for any person of lesser entitlement to have a share in government. Throughout the rest of The Politics, Aristotle inadvertently shows that his defense of polity is weak. In the suggestion that citizens cobbled together would somehow have more reason to rule or better judgment, we can see an incomplete argument. In the knowledge that a city in which the primary goal is justice to the unfulfilled in the tenant where each receives their fair, not equal due, Aristotle concedes more flaws in his plan. Even the analogies of the feast supplied by many leaves something to be desired. However, can we so quickly accept the kingship solution? In presenting the flaws of a mixed polity but ending Chapter 17 only on the perfect, most virtuous individual, which is almost impossible in practical terms as even Solon was imperfect. In giving such a drastically idealized “solution” to the question of polity, Aristotle shows that there are doubts with the proposed resolution as well. All in all, the problems posed by a mixed polity and kingship are numerous.
By leaving both kingships and polity arguments with room for doubt, Aristotle shows that there is no perfect government and that we must pursue a balance of the two facets of justice. It is impossible to completely satisfy both the common good and giving each their due, and Aristotle chooses to show the nuances of both arguments rather than fully fleshing out the case for one or the other. Even in his closing statements about the matter, the answer is not resolved. Perhaps, though, Aristotle intended it to be this way. In his choice to leave the matter unresolved, Aristotle gives room to consider the more realistic solutions to rule, where each system has its merits as well as its flaws. Just like the world governments today, there is no perfect system. The clash of the two different types of justice, both of which have resonance in audiences today, show that tension. With no answers readily available in The Politics, we must seek answers from ourselves.
SATIRE DONE WRITE: WRITING AND HUMANITY IN THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING EARNEST
This is my second formal essay for my English 314H L (34680) class. Due: November 15th, 2012.
Many of the catalysts of action throughout The Importance of Being Earnest are documents. Produced at critical points, these letters, diary entries, and novels give important character insight and are indispensable to the progress of the play. These three categories of text serve various functions, but they all illuminate ways in which humans produce and interact with literature. We will evaluate the roles printed word has in the play through the lens of their effects on social interactions. Each form of writing is paired with the distinct effect it has on our perception of the play. We will look at the mediums of writing and their impact on Earnest individually before evaluating what they contribute to our understanding of the play as a whole. If we treat The Importance of Being Earnest as a satire instead of the flippant comedy it appears to be prima facie, it’s possible to unearth profound social commentary on the literary tradition of the 19th Century.
Fabrication in literature is a real problem for historians who seek accurate information because fact and myth mix so readily. Though present in Cecily’s diary as well, fabrication really finds its nexus in the letters written before the start of the play. There is nothing inherently shocking about the statement that “this is the box where I keep all your dear letters… the three you wrote me after I had broken off the engagement are so beautiful, and so badly spelled, that even now I can hardly read them without crying a little.” (104) However, when we understand that Cecily wrote all the letters from herself to herself, we are more skeptical. Letters are supposed to be used for correspondence when distance separates two people. In The Importance of Being Earnest, however, they have become a false reality. Imagination ceases to be a playful and whimsical pastime and becomes a sort of gilded lifestyle, where Cecily sincerely believes her reality is the golden truth. Fantastical relationships are common in contemporary society, such as when a fan imagines having a relationship with a celebrity. To allow imagination to run to the point of convincing yourself you’re engaged, though, is creating a false reality. In a play full of insincerities, it’s ironic that one of the most earnestly held beliefs—Cecily’s engagement to her fictional Earnest— isn’t real until the end of the play. This ties into a concept in Anatomy of Criticism, where comedy begins in pistis and advance into gnosis. The feeling that “this should be” is the natural movement from illusion to reality, where comedy strives to create and dispel “the illusions caused by disguise, obsession, hypocrisy, or unknown parentage.” (Frye, 170) We discover a unique challenge, then, when we realize that pistis is gnosis in The Importance of Being Earnest in that Cecily’s fabled “Earnest” is more than a character in her letters. The comic manipulation of plot overcame the impossibly slim chances that Cecily and Algernon would meet if the play was crafted like real life. If it hadn’t, however, fabrication would be a much more grim state of mind, like how a schizophrenic’s hallucinations inspire pity instead of enthusiasm. Though the truth is cleared up in some arenas, namely the question of Earnest as Jack’s legal name, some false realities in The Importance of Being Earnest are never completely settled, as is the case with Cecily’s preoccupation with shallow details of “Earnest” that makes us doubt the sincerity of her love. We as the audience are left with a slight comic indigestion that we quickly swallow down but can somehow taste through the rest of the play.
Having addressed fabrication through Cecily’s letters, we now turn to marginalization. The most perplexing document in The Importance of Being Earnest may be Cecily Cardew’s diary. There are two points of interest we will examine using this text: the content of the diary as well as her plans for its future. Content-wise, a diary is meant to hold the sacred desires and hopes of its author. For Cecily, though, it is little more than a journal to record mundane activities. Completely lacking in emotional investment, the diary reduces her life to an almost list-like series of events, much like a grocery list or the journal of Christopher McCandless from Into the Wild. One of the most blatantly satirical lines in Earnest is Cecily’s only diary entry read onstage, where “[she] broke off [her] engagement with Earnest…. The weather still continues charming.” (105) By giving an inordinate amount of attention to notes about the weather as opposed to more significant events, this approach trivializes her life and overemphasizes meaningless details. In a macro scale, it marginalizes meaningful human expression. This absurdity, however, is eclipsed by its brother, which comes from the plans Cecily has for the contents of the diary. In a newspaper clipping titled “The Life in a 19th-Century Diary,” the philosophical and political musings of Mr. Fox’s diary are chronicled. His entries are thoughtful and detailed. The article furthers, “that’s the attraction of diaries… [they’re] never intended for publication.” The point of keeping a diary is to record our innermost thoughts and we record them because it’s too difficult or personal to share with others. However, though Cecily claims that she “keep[s] a diary in order to enter the wonderful secrets of [her] life,” (83) she claims later in the play that “[the diary] is simply a very young girl’s record of her own thoughts and impressions, and consequently meant for publication. When it appears in volume form I hope you will order a copy.” (102) Her statements are profound because of the direct juxtaposition between a young girl’s thoughts and publication. By planning to publish her personal thoughts – which are an extension of her—we might initially conclude that Cecily is putting herself on sale. However, the consequences may be even more profound. If we look to diaries as an extension of the author behind its words, publishing a diary would inherently destroy the diary. In Rabelais and His World, the change in context produces a change of content where the comic mask, the essence of the grotesque, is altered in meaning. Originally seen as gay and festive, the mask in its Romantic form now represents something that “hides something, keeps a secret, deceives.” (Bakhtin, 40) Likewise, by changing the context of the diary from private to public, the author will unconsciously omit or mask their true feelings. Writing diary entries with the knowledge that they will be read by the public eye suppresses the very thing diaries are meant to do. Terry Eagleton would concur with Bakhtin; Eagleton states that there is a clear connection between form and content (Eagleton, 21), where in this case, the form of the unpublished diary carries with it a certain rawness of writing that published sentiments do not. By knowingly preparing a diary for publication, the text itself is polluted. Diaries are inherently honest; diaries tailored for print are inherently fraudulent. When personal writing becomes catered to an audience, the deeper and more troubling impacts of turning personal writings into banal text is revealed. The deeply passionate aspect of human life is marginalized for the desires of consumerism.
The last form of literature, after letters and diaries, is the three volume novel. In an article titled “Why the Three Volume English Novel is Manufactured,” the New York Times details that the normal three-volume novel was around 900 pages in total at 150–200,000 words; the median length was 168,000 words, in 45 chapters. “It was common for novelists to have contracts specifying a set number of pages to be filled and required to produce extra copy if they ran under, or to be encouraged to break the text up into more chapters — as each new chapter heading would fill up a page.” Writing not for meaning but to fill up space, the form is well suited to the content, as three volume novels are often about extremely complex social situations. The newspaper clipping “The Three Volume Novel” further explains that in a time when books were relatively expensive to print and bind, publishing longer works of fiction had many economic benefits. A novel divided into three parts could create a demand, with Part I whetting an appetite for Parts II and III. The income from Part I could also be used to pay for the printing costs of the later parts. Furthermore, a commercial librarian had three volumes earning their keep, rather than one. This picture brings to mind Eagleton’s commentary about author as producer, where “literature may be an artefact, a product of social consciousness, a world vision; but it is also an industry. Books are not just structures of meaning, they are also commodities produced by publishers and sold on the market at a profit.” (Eagleton, 59) The particular style of mid-Victorian fiction, of a complicated plot reaching resolution by distribution of marriage partners and property in the final pages, was well adapted to the form. The trivial content and the fact that production is inherently because of revenue and not any worthy idea of the author makes the three volume novel, despite its length, much like a dime novel: sensationalized yet superficial. Lady Bracknell refers to Miss Prism’s manuscript as containing “more than usually revolting sentimentality,” (140) which becomes a more profound statement when realizing how sentimental other three volume novels are. Dealing with questions of social status or marriage etiquette, these books were not supposed to be humorous. Interestingly enough, Frye asserts that “the plots of comedy often are complicated because there is something inherently absurd about complications.” (Frye, 170) Dealing with a paltry pretense of manners and filled with petty social intrigue, readers can only take the subject so seriously before the seriousness itself makes the three volume novel absurd. The three volume novel can further act as Frye’s definition of alazon out of context (Frye, 172), no longer a comic character but a sinister and usurping imposter. This is seen clearest in The Importance of Being Earnest in the direct exchange between book and baby, where the manuscript was placed in the perambulator and infant Jack in the handbag. This absurd switch symbolizes the complete replacement of meaningful human interaction with frivolous rubbish and is the third and final stage of satiric commentary on literature in the play.
Instead of being a trivial comedy for serious people, the greatest merit of The Importance of Being Earnest lies in yielding stinging social commentary. Wedged between nonsensical statements, the satire is all the more profound because it mirrors our own society—where there are small shards of reason shoved amongst a sea of drivel. The ending of the play is joyful, but there is also somewhat a sense of incompleteness in the happiness because the audience realizes not everything matches up. This uneasiness, such as the fact that Gwendolyn and Cecily can “love” someone because of his name and the untrue version of love it produces, is where satire speaks clearest. The same elements are present in Cecily’s letters because the ease to which Algernon accepts the contrived reality of their past engagement is forced and unnatural. In Rabelais and His World, there is a striking passage where Bakhtin analyzes The Night Watches, where “laughter was sent to the earth by the devil, but it appeared to men under the mask of joy, and so they readily accepted it. Then laughter cast away its mask and looked at man and at the world with the eyes of angry satire.” (Bakhtin, 38) Reading The Importance of Being Earnest as satirical literature instead of a comedy, the fabrication, marginalization, and finally replacement of literature is evident. We as careful readers can see laughter’s hands removing the mask, and we realize the gilded nature of Wilde’s comedy.
Bibliography
Bakhtin, Mikhail, and Helene Helene Iswolsky. Rabelais and His World. 1st Ed. Bloomington:
Indiana University Press, 1984. 1-58. Print.
Eagleton, Terry. Marxism and Literary Criticism. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1976. Print.
Frye, Northrop. Anatomy of Criticism: Four Essays. 1st Ed. New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1957. 163-186. Print.
Kirsch, Robert. “The Life in a 19th-Century Diary.” Los Angeles Times 30 May 1980, F16. Print.
“The Three Volume Novel.” New York Times 24 October 1885, 4. Print.
Wilde, Oscar. The Importance of Being Earnest. 1st Ed. London: A&C Black Publishers Limited, 1980. Print.
“Why the Three Volume English Novel is Manufactured.” New York Times 4 January 1885, 10. Print.
ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE AND WORD: ANALYSIS ON MALE HOMOSOCIAL RELATIONSHIPS AND ITS IMPACT ON FEMININITY
This is my first formal essay in my college career for English. Not included: prospectus, Draft 1. English 314H L (34680) Due: October 9th, 2012.
Not able to function in complex civilizations by brunt force alone, man turned from physical prowess to political dynamics to gain entrance and power among contemporaries. Addressing homosocial relationships and how they are exemplified in the professional writing community is a concept too nebulous to address as a whole. We are required to focus on specific examples, analyzing career rivalries specifically through the lens of first “The Passionate Shepherd to His Love” (Marlowe) and secondly “The Nymph’s Reply to The Shepherd” (Ralegh). The desire for professional advancement between the competing men is evident through the structure and presentation of the two poems. We will consider author intentions and how their motives change our interpretations of the compositions. We will then reflect on how the pieces interact with each other to affect femininity, and the impacts we can derive from them.
Beginning with the offer to “Come live with me and be my love,” despite the flowery language of “The Passionate Shepherd to His Love”, the wooing of the beloved by the unnamed shepherd is presented much like a classical argument. By introducing the claim immediately in the poem, the uses of meter, rhyme scheme, iambic tetrameter and stressed and un-stressed syllables play key roles of the supporting material and warrants. Christopher Marlowe scatters the text with subtle literary devices. The use of soft consonants, such as “seeing the shepherds feed their flocks” (6) and “shepherds’ swains shall sing” (20) serves to increase smoothness in the poem with the “s” alliteration, where each word rolls from the tongue and entices the listener in a sing-songy way. Additionally, the breaks taken from the conventional number of syllables serve to create a listing effect, where “valleys, groves, hills, and fields/ woods, or steepy mountain yields” (3-4). Finally, the iambic tetrameter lends a sense of casual fluidity to the piece. Crediting the beauty of nature and the allures of rural living, the idyllic scene is on the forefront of the shepherd’s entreaties and dominates the poem. These elements collectively make up the Romanticism movement that was overwhelmingly popular during that time period. The simplicity of life praised in the poem itself, however, masks the complex reality behind the mentality of the author behind its composition.
Professor Patrick Cheney writes that “the myth of erotic invitation that will give Marlowe his lyric center carries with it not simply pastoral beauty and natural bounty, but also poetic rivalry and epic subversion, [and] politics and patronage.” The outlandish claims that the “shepherd” makes are unachievable as the poem goes on, with word choices like a “thousand fragrant posies,” (10) “buckles of the purest gold,” (16) and “coral clasps and amber studs” (18) amplifying the impossible promises he offers. The boasts of the shepherd are audaciously pledged but are ultimately hollow and meaningless. We must conclude that the shepherd is not a real person but a fictional character used to transmit the sentiments of someone else. With the voice of the shepherd himself decidedly out of the picture, we see that “The Passionate Shepherd to His Love” was in fact penned from the desire of Marlowe to enter into his society of professional literary peers.
Marlowe idealizes pastoral life to gain societal acceptance, but even after granted entrance, he must contend with rival authors for prestige over one another. Written as a direct counter for Marlowe’s poem, “The Nymph’s Reply to The Shepherd” by Walter Ralegh illustrates the second facet of homosocial relationships—the inherent competition and desire for social ascendance. By beginning with the conditional statement “if,” Ralegh establishes that the Nymph will reject the shepherd’s entreaties. Indeed, just by the use of the term “nymph” as opposed to a neutral name like “beloved” or “girl,” the withdrawing female is portrayed as elusive and unattainable for the shepherd. This is reflected carefully in the word choices present in the piece. Though both Marlowe and Ralegh write in iambic tetrameter, the same parameters become harsher and disjointed in Ralegh’s poem. All the beauties of spring presented in Marlowe’s poem “soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten/ in folly ripe and reason rotten” (16). Ralegh uses the voice of the nymph “to warn the shepherd—and the reader—about the decay of pastoral beauty due to the turning of the seasons” (Cheney). The seasonal references to relaxation and plenty degenerate into a sight of entropy and general decay, where “flowers to fade, and wanton fields/ to wayward winter reckoning yields” (9-10). Roses are beautiful and fragrant when they are fresh-cut, but Chapter 4 of Beloved reveals that once they are past their prime, the overpowering stench of decomposing roses festers and languishes in the air. The dying roses foreshadow a descending evil on 124 Bluestone Road; so too does the inevitable onset of winter wither the charms of spring at the bud.
We can take Cheney’s assertion one step further, however, when using “The Nymph’s Reply to The Shepherd” as the written manifest of Ralegh’s response to Marlowe. Ralegh takes advantage of the fact that authentic farm life was harsh and assails Marlowe’s feigned naivety with pointed realism. The world-weary pragmatism discredits “The Passionate Shepherd to His Love,” the serious academic discussion on the beliefs espoused in it, and Marlowe’s total professional credibility. By utilizing the nymph thus as his channel for his career advancement, Ralegh essentially exploits her gender and voice as a means to his own ends. This brings us to the threshold of the most significant topic at hand: the grounds on which Marlowe and Ralegh use women in their poems.
In “The Passionate Shepherd to His Love,” we must register that “the gifts are not concrete actualities but mental constructions, the product of the masculine mind as it appears to offer the paradise within” (Cheney). However, even with the supposed female reply and rejection of the male advances, things aren’t always resolved on the surface level. For clarification, there are two women we must recognize that form the crux of “The Nymph’s Reply to The Shepherd.” The first woman we must consider is the nymph herself, whose rebuttals of the shepherd’s advancements initially seem to be empowering to the female sex. However, keeping in mind that the words are actually Ralegh’s and not those of a real woman, we must call into question their legitimacy. Halperin argues that the autonomy of women’s experiences is denied by Diotima’s presence. By using Diotima to speak for what the masculine community thinks is a woman’s viewpoint, Plato silences the opinions of real women. Summarizing the supposed sentiments of females lets men cling onto masculine self-affirmation, and the use of Diotima is merely a mask for male transfer of ideas. Therefore, neither Diotima nor the nymph really speaks for women, since they are the inauthentic male constructions of the feminine as opposed to what is authentically feminine.
The second woman we will analyze constitutes of Ralegh’s allusion to Philomel, the nightingale. Ralegh only references to her in passing, stating there are no more melodious madrigals wafting in the air when the bird “becometh dumb” (7) during the winter. However, though there’s a plethora of other references throughout “The Nymph’s Reply to The Shepherd,” this famous nightingale is the most striking in context. In the Metamorphoses, directly after she is brutally raped, Philomela cries out,
“Yet, if the gods are watching, if heaven’s power means anything, unless my ruin’s shared by all the world, you’ll pay my score one day. I’ll shed my shame and shout what you have done. If I’ve the chance, I’ll walk among the crowds: or, if I’m held locked in the woods, my voice shall fill the woods and move the rocks to pity. This bright sky shall hear, and any god that dwells on high!”
Threatened by her proclamation and fearful she’ll reveal his transgression, Tereus graphically gauges out her tongue to prevent her from speaking. Even deprived of speech, Philomela cleverly finds her voice in sewing the injustices onto a tapestry. In the end, she is transformed into the nightingale, prized among birds for their melodious singing. She becomes a figure for poetic immortality or fame: the “mistress of melody.” One may think that here, finally, Philomela can receive partial justice now by warbling to her heart’s content. However, one crucial detail often overlooked is that in nature, only the male nightingale sings. Philomela’s happy ending is therefore fabricated for the plot resolution and nonexistent in reality. The denial of her voice even as a bird cements the grievances she suffered as a human; it only further exposes that no viable outlet exists for women to express themselves. The true nightingales of female discourse lose their voices to the mockingbirds of masculine figures pretending to speak for women. Their autonomy and even identity is invalidated by the presence of false “women.” “Woman” serves as a cuckoo egg in which the unknowing mother discards the rightful female occupants of the nest, who ought to have the voice in their own affairs.
Both Marlowe and Ralegh, through gaining literary acceptance and rising in rank, marginalize women in their poems, but in different ways. “The Passionate Shepherd to His Love” is more obviously attempting to lure in the beloved with evanescent goods, where she is a prize to be won or purchased, if the gifts are looked upon as currency. There is no mention anywhere in the poem about the intrinsically valuable qualities of the woman herself. Marlowe buys into the objectification of women when he spends almost the entire poem discussing what the narrator believes the beloved would want, as if by offering her these things, she’d sell herself into his companionship. “One gender is treated as a marginalized subset rather than as an equal alternative to the other,” (Sedgewick) where the overpowering literary ground is claimed by men. The inherent objectification in Marlowe’s poem denies females the right of equals, using women not for their inherent value but as means for the end of the men’s own exclusively masculine purposes.
“The Nymph’s Reply to The Shepherd” is more subtle in its methodology but perhaps more detrimental on the whole for feminism. By fooling readers into believing there is a female-given resolution to the question of the shepherd’s advances, we become complacent and believe the discussion is over, when in reality, it hasn’t even begun. The dialogue is finally between Marlowe and Ralegh; the facing-off, male to male; the voicing, fundamentally masculine. This sentiment may be “set within a structure of institutionalized social relations that are carried out via women,” (Sedgewick) but Ralegh is really only a better disguised version of Marlowe’s poem, endorsing in practice what he appears to denounce with the nymph’s words. Using a ‘woman’ to speak discredits feminity and threatens the worth of women as a gender.
By manipulating the themes of Romanticism to further their personal interests, poetry itself becomes the battling ground in which rivals attempt to subvert one another. The poems serve different purposes, where Marlowe strives to gain credibility and Ralegh to invalidate it. Homosocial relationships exist in literature as a power struggle, where career rivalries dominate. Though “The Nymph’s Reply to The Shepherd” manages to undermine “The Passionate Shepherd to His Love,” the consequence is employing the voices of the nymph and Philomela, both “women” puppets on Ralegh’s stage, and subsequently discrediting female inherent worth. Though the “nymph” is presented as making a choice to reject the shepherd and maintain her autonomy, the impact from the poems is the ultimate silencing of women and true loss of choice of their fates in the hands of men.
Bibliography
Cheney, Patrick. “Career Rivalry and the Writing of Counter-Nationhood: Ovid, Spenser, and Philomela in Marlowe’s “The Passionate Shepherd to His Love”.” Johns Hopkins University Press. 65.3 (1998): 523-555. Print.
Halperin, David M. One Hundred Years of Sexuality and Other Essays on Greek Love. 1st Ed. New York: Routeledge, 1990. 113-211. Print.
Morrison, Toni. Beloved. 1st Ed. New York: The Penguin Group, 1987. Print.
Ovid, Samuel Garth, John Dryden, et al. Metamorphoses. 1 A.C.E. Print.
Sedgwick, Eve Kosofsky. Between Men: English Literature and Male Homosexual Desire, Swans in Love. 1st Ed. New York: Columbia University Press, 1985. 22-49. Print.
FRANKENSTEIN: A DISCUSSION ABOUT SYMBOLS, THEMES AND MOTIFS
Edit: Re-uploaded 3/18/2013
Questions posed by my English teacher, responses are my answers to them.
Discuss passages that relate to Nature and how it impacts or is an integral part of meaning in the novel.
Throughout the novel, scenes and weather are reflective of mood. Shelley tends- like many Romantic authors of the time- to describe her scenes in great detail. Often, important or integral parts of the novel happen in special scenes. These locations add a level of complex symbolism as well as emphasize the mood of the story as a whole.
Example 1: The monster and Victor meeting on the ice glacier for the first encounter when the monster is civilized. This is important because a) Victor is supposed to be on vacation and this disturbance is obviously not relaxing and b) having a cold environment lends the reader to imagining a chilly and on-edge mood that reflects Victor’s reactions to the monster’s proposition. Even when the monster brings Victor to his cave, it’s still freezing cold and uncomfortable. This symbolizes that even when the monster is opening his heart to Victor and essentially letting Victor into his more sovereign spaces, it is still impossible for Victor to relate to him (The monster is comfortable in the cold while Victor is not). (Begins on page 85)
The final pursuit of the novel- and scene of demise for both Victor and the monster- takes place at the North Pole. This is clearly symbolic of how a) the monster is ostracized by society because of physical deformities and b) how Victor withdrew himself from society due to shame and guilt. Through experimentation and harboring regrets and dark secrets, Victor Frankenstein distances himself first from acquaintances, then friends, and finally family. Therefore, the North Pole is the absolute furthest one can get from human residence. This also shows that Victor has degraded to a certain level of bestial qualities. He behaves more like a vengeful animal by the end of the novel than a civil and rational person, and this is portrayed well in his struggles on the ice for survival. (Begins on page 192- Victor’s decision to exact revenge via physical chase of the monster.)
The word “solipsism” relates to “The view or theory that the self is all that can be known to exist.” Is Frankenstein truly solipsistic?
Victor is not soliphistic, he is merely selfish. There is a difference. He is capable of recognizing the existence of other things but focuses on his own. Reference to the court scene (Where Justine is sentenced to death) where Victor focuses on his own grief and not about Justine’s feelings at all. Also, he creates another being, which clearly shows that he is aware of a sense of others. He also recognizes that his family will miss him during the time he is building the monster but also ignores that feeling and instead forces himself further into seclusion. These are the actions of a selfish person.
The idea behind “The Other” in literature refers to anyone opposing “the norm.” Who represents the Other in Frankenstein? Is it the monster or Frankenstein himself? How can you bring gender into this argument (perhaps referencing Elizabeth and/or Justine)?
Victor is not opposing the norm, because even when he violates societal safety and the sanctity of godly-creation of animate life, he is accepted and loved by people. He has a good friend (Henry Clerval), a loving family (deceased mother, kindly father, sympathetic brother(s)), and even a lover (Elizabeth). I believe it is the monster who is “the Other”, but not by choice. In fact, the monster exerts multiple efforts to become accepted into society and it is society itself that rejects him and suffers the consequences for it. This is one of the reasons why the reader is meant to sympathize with the monster; because society viewed the monster with regards only to his grotesque physical appearance and didn’t give him a chance to show his personality. It is this pre-judgment that condemns the monster to a life of wretchedness and the actions the monster takes are therefore not entirely his fault.
Justine is also painted as the “Other”, not because of her looks, but because of what society believes are her actions. Even before the trial, her fate was pretty much sealed because no one believed her story. In this case, Justine did not receive justice and was cast away from society unfairly. (Page 68: “Wretched mockery of a trial.”) False trials that paint innocent people as guilty is not only the bastardization of free trial, but an insult to the justice system. Justine should have never been an “Other”; it was purely unforeseeable circumstances and terrible luck that threw her under the train.
Some critics argue that Frankenstein is, in fact, an allegory. Many things, including the way that the monster speaks, allude to this being the case. How could you see Frankenstein as an allegory regarding social issues? Consider how this would be written as an allegory today. What would the monster be like?
It is important to note here that the first time that Victor converses with the monster, the monster speaks more civilly than Victor himself. Victor was raised in an affluent and privileged family and was raised into spoken and written language. The monster, on the other hand, has to learn in an extremely brief period of time. To add to this, he never speaks to another person directly during the course of his studies. In all honesty, the monster ought to be considered a genius by human standards. Why, then, is the monster rejected?
We can look to an instance in the text as a reference. During the cottage scene where the old man is alone in the dwelling, the monster does not have problems communicating with the old man. (He is invited to warm his hands near the fire and engages in a civil conversation with the old man.) It is only until the rest of the family returns from their walk that the old man realizes there is something wrong with his guest. In this, the old man can represent the more open-minded or liberal people who might accept certain ideas or theories. They are intimidated and guided into mistrust and rejection from the rest of society, those ignorant and judgmental masses that, with their vision, reject the monster. The monster could represent radical people, controversial subjects (ex: Gay rights), or sensational or taboo ideas or topics that could be addressed if there were more open minds in society.
Discuss the reversal of roles between Frankenstein and the monster.
Victor Frankenstein begins as a human (mentally) and the monster begins as an inanimate mass of flesh. Victor seems to digress in both health and sanity through the progress of the book. Contrastingly, through life experiences, the monster develops a sense of sensation, and a clear moral compass. It is not until the monster is rejected from society that he develops vengeful tendencies. By this time, the monster is almost human-esque in his description, portrayal, and language. He is capable of making human choices and recognizing right from wrong.
Victor is a human and so is the reader of the novel. It is strange, then, that the reader learns to sympathize with the monster instead of Victor. In fact, many readers discover by the end of the novel that they hate Victor and either pity or love the monster. This is what Shelley intended. As we learn to sympathize with a monster, we are becoming more open-minded to other problems we might consider “ugly” (ex: abortion).
Why did the monster choose strangulation as his method of killing? Was the monster’s experience enough to justify not his murders, but his hatred of humankind? How much did Frankenstein’s arrogance contribute to the murders?
The monster chose strangulation because: 1) it’s the most practical for him because it requires no weapon 2) It shows his super-human strength (and thus one way he is made superior to the regular man) and 3) the act of cutting off someone’s air is symbolic (deprivation of something that is vital- much like the attention and love that he lacks from another individual. The deprivation of love “kills” the monster’s friendliness towards man, just as lack of air kills his victims.
By taking away life- that which is most dear to people- from Victor’s loved ones, the monster does not justify but rather acts on his hatred of humankind. He feels like exacting revenge is the only way for him to “get even” with the humans and all of their human bonds that the monster can never have.
Everything! I can’t wait to verbally berate Jordan Winslow and Lucas DeWitt about this tomorrow! Victor has so many chances to tell someone about the monster but refrains because he believes he will be considered a mad-man or ostracized by society. In this sense, Victor gets what’s coming! “My first thought was to discover what I knew of the murderer and cause instant pursuit to be made… (but) I resolved to stay silent. (extended quote regarding William and Justine’s death on Page 64).” He agonizes in the same way about Clearval’s death. I don’t understand why he’s agonizing…. He was warned in advance by the monster, clearly knew the consequences of his actions, and still obviously valued his perception by others over the lives of his friends and family. Victor is selfish in this sense. Also, he is depriving the monster of exactly this sense of community. I wonder how that makes the monster feel. Yeah. Not very loved. Why does Victor not understand that when he himself needs societal approval so desperately? Oh yeah, probably because he’s LAME.
If Frankenstein had created the second monster, how would this have affected the central theme of the novel and Frankenstein’s and the monster’s characters?
Maternity and fertility would have greater holistic impacts on the story since we are assuming that the female is fertile. This is actually Victor’s chief concern and the reason he destroys the second monster: because he is afraid of baby monsters running around and destroying humanity. I mean, Eve populated the world full of sinners…. Could the female monster not do the same?
Because the female monster would be free-thinking and therefore autonomous, the dynamic of “submissive female” might take a blow as (I believe) would be altered because the female monster would be an independent woman J or at least that is Victor’s fear. If she disagrees with isolation or does not like how the monster looks, she has the free will and power to leave and wreak havoc on human society.
How does Shelley portray female submissiveness? In other words, how are females characterized? What do you think Shelley is claiming through these characterizations?
Shelley creates woman as being diffident to their males. From Caroline Beaufort to Elisabeth to Justine, the women of the novel just take life’s hardships uncomplainingly as they come (Caroline through her treatment of death, Elisabeth through her patient waiting on Victor, and Justine through her acceptance of the justice system and her role as a scapegoat.) The only outstanding example of a female who does not fit this role is the Arab (Safie) because she gets with Felix against her father’s wishes (they are of different religions) because her mother warned her of the perils of returning back to the seclusion of the harem back in Arab-countries. (“Safie… sickened at the prospect of again returning to Asia and being immured within the walls of a harem…. (When she was) now accustomed to grand ideas and a noble emulation for virtue. Page 112.”) This is paradoxical because usually women from Middle-Eastern backgrounds are considered more oppressed due to religion and social norms than European women, but the roles are reversed here. Shelley therefore claims that women are still not given enough autonomy.
Discuss the biblical and mythical references in the novel. Focus on allusions to Adam and Eve, Lucifer, and Prometheus. Stemming from the relationship between Frankenstein and his monster (a father/son relationship), consider Frankenstein’s relationship with his own father and how they relate to each other.
Victor rejects the monster even though he was the monster’s creator and therefore both his father and his God. Victor receives love and support from his own father and thus creates a situation where Victor can once again have all the benefits of society and family while the monster is deprived of all these things. Victor is daft… he should have realized that all sentient animals thrive in society or at least companionship with others and that the deprival of these things leads to loneliness and insanity.
The monster is deprived of an Eve. He actually specifically references that all he needs is a companion who would be sympathetic to his situation. When Victor destroys the female and vows to never re-create her again, the monster loses all faith in humanity and the concept of promises and fairness (you break your bargain, then, human?) and vows to destroy Victor’s happiness.
Discuss how the framed narrative structure of the novel affects the reliability of the narrator and the story as a whole (consider all narrators involved).
The monster, Victor, and Saville all have personal snippets they add to the story in side-notes, observations, asides, and a general sense of individuality that changes the story slightly. We must consider that the monster is “humanistic” in that he narrates the story in a human and sympathetic way (where the reader learns his back-story and feels sympathy for his plight). Victor also tells the story through a slanted view (believing his own actions to be correct) and thus depicts his reactions to the monster’s story with tinted glasses (oh I was so sympathetic and understanding….. NOT). Therefore, some of the things Victor relates back to Saville may not be accurate. This means, surprise, also that Saville’s letters to his sister have already been influenced by Victor’s telling of the story (since Saville is so enchanted with Victor’s civilness – I have found a true friend in the middle of the ice of nowhere! He must be super wonderful!)
HAMLET: EXPLORING INFLUENCES, MOTIVES, AND DEEPER MEANINGS
Edit: Re-uploaded 3/18/2013
We had a Fishbowl discussion about Hamlet. Besides the oral exam grade, we also had to provide a written response to all the questions posed. I have provided the written portion below.I have provided page references throughout that may not be helpful depending on the version and edition of the book you have. Mine is this version ( http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hamlet-william-shakespeare/1100150069?ean=9781101100349 ) but any version will do. Just keep in mind that the specific page numbers may not be congruent with my version. I was a little bit rushed through some of them but I think the overall quality is still pretty decent. There are some really deep themes in Hamlet and it’s hard to succinctly and sufficiently cover all of them. Hopefully my rendition is acceptable.
1. Is Hamlet an existentialist hero?
Yes. In existentialism, the individual’s starting point is characterized by what has been called “the existential attitude” or a sense of confusion in the face of a meaningless or absurd world. Hamlet proves that he is dissatisfied and disoriented in his new situation when he remarks in (I.ii.134-135) about “How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable seems to me all the uses of this world!” Here, Hamlet voices his frustration that Claudius and Gertrude have married so soon after the late Hamlet passed away. Hamlet finds the union revolting in both its haste and it’s “incestuous” undertones, since they were once brother and sister in law under the previous marriage. Hamlet realizes that man is complex and beautiful, “noble in reason, infinite in faculties, in form and moving now… like an angel…and yet to me, what is this quintessence of dust?” (II. ii. 310~317). Because of this dissatisfaction, Hamlet begins to question his own actions, something common in existentialism since the entire theory originates with the individual’s thoughts and actions. In fact, The philosophers Søren Kierkegaard and Friedrich Nietzsche maintain that the individual is solely responsible for giving his or her own life meaning, in spite of many existential obstacles and distractions including alienation, and angst.
The biggest example of Hamlet’s existence as an existential character is in the “To Be or Not to Be” speech (III.i.58~89). During the course of perhaps the most famous soliloquy in history, Hamlet contemplates his own personal death on a philosophical platform to make it less personal. Existentialists believe in creating meaning in their lives, rather than relating the meaning of their existence to the desires and whims of higher beings. Hamlet is much like this in the sense that he does not contemplate what will become of him when he dies, but focuses on the act of dying itself. He appeals to no gods and expects no mercy, because he is asking no one but himself. In this, Hamlet is definitely existential. Also, because humans do not answer to a higher being, they are ultimately responsible for their own actions and happiness. Hamlet struggles with the decision to kill his uncle, but he feels burdened by the fact that he was chosen has to commit murder of his own blood. Heidegger and Sartre talk about “thrownness,” a concept where people are thrown into situations that they did not choose. The inherent existentialist conflict is that Hamlet must choose a solution to a problem that was forced onto him. In this situation, too, does Hamlet demonstrate existentialist qualities.
2. According to Sigmund Freud, the revolutionary psychoanalyst, Hamlet suffered from an Oedipus complex. How could you support this idea based on the text?
Male wolves leave their packs upon maturity and roam for sometimes hundreds of thousands of miles looking for a new pack or just live solo for the rest of their days. The reason for the separation actually stems from a problem that arose as the young male wolves discovered the nuances of mating: they would try to breed with their female relatives, sometimes even their mothers. The alpha male present would have a stand-off with the adolescent in question, usually resulting in the younger wolf leaving the pack. The whole issue arises from the fact that the young wolf, in some form or fashion, fancies his mother. The young wolf is like the Hamlet to the alpha male’s Claudius. Surprisingly, Hamlet feels no anger towards Claudius for marrying Gertrude, it is only towards his mother that he is angry at for the quick marriage. He even specifically calls out all females (I.ii.146) with the exasperated cry “frailty, thy name is woman”. Further evidence that Hamlet secretly lusts for Gertrude is shown through describing in vivid detail the actions of Gertrude in the bed with Claudius. He goes so far as to accuse his mother of “liv[ing] in the rank sweat of an enseamed bed, stewed in corruption, honeying and making love over the nasty sty”. (III.iv. 93~95) Like an unsuccessful thief jealous of his successful counterpart, Hamlet sees Claudius’ new life as something he could have had- at the bare minimum, the crown.
Ophelia and Laertes also walk the fine line of incestuous desires; Laertes jokingly calls Ophelia’s goods a “chaste treasure” that Hamlet will raid greedily in his “unmastered importunity.” Even in the joking manner between brother and sister, the entirety of (I.iii.25~43) rings of fondness that may or may not have sexual connotations hidden in the language. Laertes even goes so far as to say “the chariest maid is prodigal enough if she unmask her beauty to the moon. Virtue itself escapes not calumnious strokes.” He makes it unclear who’s virtue he’s reffering to, so we can’t rule out his own. Because Shakespeare knows that it’s wrong or socially reprehensible to feel attraction for a family member, Shakespeare included the theme of subtle (and not-subtle) incest to show that the world’s moral base was imperfect and tainted. This is suitable for the play since Hamlet ponders the existence in a “weary life”, expressing his thoughts that the world was an undesirable place to live.
3. Did Hamlet and Ophelia die virgins? Were they the only cast members to do so? Even if you answered no to the previous question, answer how virginity and sexuality play into Hamlet as a whole.
I do believe that Ophelia and Hamlet both die virgins, even though there is sexual innuendo throughout the play that would suggest otherwise. First of all, Ophelia herself asserts in (I.iii.110) that “[Hamlet] hath importuned me with love in honorable fashion.” This seems to imply that so far, Hamlet has been gentleman-ly in his courtship of Ophelia and has not acted in a way that would be unbecoming to someone of his rank. Ophelia, being a person of high rank, not to mention receiving favors from a prince, has some pretty big pressures to represent herself and her family in a good light. Laertes mentions Ophelia’s “chaste treasure” in (I.iii.31), suggesting that since her treasure- meaning her womanhood- is chaste, it’s clean and free of any man’s “influences”, if you know what I mean. Laertes furthers in the same passage that “Virtue itself scapes not calumnious strokes.” By comparing Ophelia to virtue itself, Laertes shows that Ophelia was in fact a virgin.
However, Ophelia counters Laertes in (I.iii.45) when she reminds Laertes to “do not, as some ungracious pastors do, show me the steep and thorny way to heaven… himself the primrose path of dalliance treads and recks not his own rede.” This implies that Laertes may be tempted to deviate from chastity on his trip to France. To add to that, Polonius is unfazed when Reynaldo suggests defaming Laertes’ sexual life, claiming that hiring a prostitute in France (reference to drabbing is on II.i.26) constitutes as only a minor offense. This mindset for casual sex suggests that Laertes is, in fact, putting his baguette into the oven overseas. On the other hand, Horatio seems to have also kept his virginity throughout the play but he is a fairly rational character with almost no role in sexual innuendos and thus is not a major area of discussion for this question.
4. Consider the impact Hamlet has had on our society, culture, and media today. Where do you see this influence reflected? Be sure to reflect on “Act V” from This American Life in your answer, as well as other factors. You should do some research on this (not a whole lot, but remember to cite at least one source – you can just include the URL link in your notes).
I could not believe my ears when I listened to This American Life. Maybe it was because I had the mindset before that people in prison were uncultured, or maybe it was because I thought they were too tough to appreciate good literature. In any case, I was surprised. The five Hamlets each expressing his own views and laughing at the other Hamlets’ jokes, which in my opinion, would lead to a much more powerful dynamic (especially in the duel scene! Imagine the back-alley fighting stage blocking that they were talking about, coupled with the circling movements and feints choreographed into the scene!) Hamlet has so shaped American culture that some people can make jokes from the To Be or Not to Be speech and have no idea what the original reference was talking about- suicide. I had always thought in the past that America would become mure and more unaware of its rich literary roots from Europe, but I am now convinced that Shakespeare is still relevant to people if they give it a chance.
Another impact that Hamlet has had on the gaming world. I am thinking specifically of the video game Mass Effect from the PS3 back in 2007. Commander Shepard goes on a mission to save the galaxy from a race of mechanical beings known as the Reapers, and its followers. The first game sees Shepard facing Sovereign, a Reaper left as a vanguard, who plans to allow the Reaper fleet currently hibernating in extra-galactic dark space to invade the Milky Way and destroy all sapient organic life, continuing a mysterious cycle of destruction. In the first game, Hamlet is re-enacted by an alien race known as Elcors. Wikia, the Wikipedia for the gaming community, details further about the inclusion of Hamlet in the game, which actually plays a signifigant part in the plot and you can’t advance without knowledge of. http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Elcor
5. Discuss the role that gender plays amongst these diverse characters: what is the influence of gender on the characters? For example, Ophelia’s influence on Hamlet, Polonius’ influence on Ophelia, Gertrude’s influence on Hamlet, etc. Also consider how characters affect each other within the same gender, especially concerning foils.
The females in the play are very submissive. For example, Ophelia responds to Polonius’s question about if she believes Hamlet’s tokens of love are real with the answer of “I do not know, my lord, what I should think. (I.iii.103) She has her father and her brother make all the choices for her and goes insane when abandoned by her male figures. Polonius’s influence was defiantly the strongest one since he was with her for virtually the entire play. He dictates that she refuses Hamlet’s offers of love, so she does. He tells her to meet up with Hamlet so he can spy on them. Not a problem for Ophelia. Throughout the play, Ophelia’s ability to make conscious decisions is seen as smaller and smaller, eventually disappearing.
Gertrude’s influence on Hamlet is also one of a weak female. She has to remain married to Claudius in order to preserve her social standing, but she wants to please Hamlet as well. This is a point of minor conflict in the story at times when the two things Gertrude wants conflict with each other. For example, when Hamlet reveals to Gertrude in (III.iv.187~189) that “[Don’t tell Claudius] that I essentially am not in madness, but mad in craft,” Gertrude in part wants to honor her son’s wishes and remain quiet about the affair. However, she eventually deems it wiser to tell Claudius. This conflict of interests stems directly from the fact that Gertude, as a woman, is dependent on the men around her for stability and sustainability.
6. Death and tragedy are very important aspects of Hamlet. However, fate plays another role in differentiating both death and tragedy. Discuss both murder and accidental death in the play and how it affects the consciences and attitudes of the characters involved in the crimes. If possible, reference victims’ and murderers’ attitudes in modern-day crime shows and novels. Concerning fate and accidents, should Hamlet be considered a tragic hero according to Aristotle’s model? Why or why not? Support your answers.
Hamlet is preoccupied in death and dwells on the details of his father’s murder and plotting to kill Claudius, but when Hamlet actually kills his first person, the reaction is much different than what is expected. On discovering the body, Hamlet’s first words are “thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell! I took thee for thy better.” (III.iv.23~33) Instead of feeling guilty and remorseful at his actions of stabbing Polonius, Hamlet says it was what Polonius deserved and moved on criticizing his mother with hardly a pause. His accidental killing of Polonius meant nothing to Hamlet because Polonius wasn’t an important figure in Hamlet’s life. Much more significant was the planning to kill Claudius and that’s what Hamlet’s thoughts revolved around, with Hamlet even planning when he’d kill the king- in his sins. (III.iii.80~95).
Hamlet is not a tragic hero because he does not have a tragic flaw. In a world where he has little or no control of the events that are happening, Hamlet is just a teenage boy trying to make do and understand the absurd. For that, he does wait longer than he should have in killing Claudius but I do not consider this a tragic flaw because it’s completely rational for him to do so and he acted in the same way as I would have if I were in the same situation.
7. How is religion used to justify the characters’ unjust actions? Be sure to discuss Hamlet’s reluctance to murder Claudius while he is praying and the treatments of Ophelia’s death in your answer.
Although Hamlet is, on the most basic level, centered on a conflict that the vast majority of people will never have to deal with, audiences around the world still connect to the play, even in contemporary times. The reason for this is not because of the actual plot itself, but rather one underlying theme coming from the play as a whole- the circumstances of existence of death and life, and what happens after death. Since every person was born in the beginning and will most certainly die in one way or another, putting each man’s private thoughts into words often leads to emotional or thought-provoking responses. In Christian literature, it was said that even after you pass off of this earth as a physical manifestation, your soul will still be rewarded or punished for your actions on Earth.
This is why Hamlet is so hesitant to kill King Claudius- even though physically Claudius was extremely vulnerable, his soul would be pure and purged of sins if Hamlet had killed Claudius then and there. Hamlet says that “[I will take him] when he is drunk asleep, or in his rage, or in th’ incestuous pleasure of his bed….. or about some act that has no relish of salvation in’t-then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven, and that his soul may be as damned and black as hell, whereto it goes.” (III.iii.89~95) This means that even though the late Hamlet had to suffer through purgatory for his actions and remains in limbo because he had sins he didn’t pray away. Hamlet reasons that it wouldn’t be fair for Claudius to die as a clean man, because then his soul would go straight to heaven, while Hamlet wants to catch Claudius in a sinful act so he would be cast to hell. Basically, Hamlet wishes internal damnation for his father in law.
Ophelia’s death scene is one of the most controversial parts of the play- the discussion of whether or not Ophelia killed herself or just fell accidentally to her death. There as actually even a little discussion between the grave-diggers over the legality of the burial since it’s unknown if it was death by suicide, which has different funeral processions and is frowned upon by the Christian religion. The first clown opens Act V by asking “is she to be buried in Christian burial when she willfully seeks her own salvation?” (V.i.1) The grave-diggers banter back and forth about the death but it’s much more serious than the macabre joking puts light to.
8. Consider the theme of loyalty throughout the play: how does it influence the various characters’ decisions? Why is it a source of contrast and conflict between not only several characters, but within the characters themselves (external vs. internal struggles)? How does this impact the play’s final acts?
Laertes acts completely on loyalty to his father by getting revenge, and Hamlet does the same by the late Hamlet’s wishes. Though Laertes doesn’t have any qualms with immediately selecting a target and carrying through action, stating that he’d “cut [Hamlet’s] throat I’ th’ church!” (IV.7.127), Hamlet has internal conflicts throughout the play that greatly changes the plot. For instance, his constant putting-off of the murder after the play has ended and he has already gotten his evidence- aka the Claudius praying scene- makes the final scene needed. The delay of revenge is the reason for the extention of the play; if Hamlet had just killed Claudius before the climax wouldn’t have been reached.
Another important note to take is Gertrude’s lack of loyalty to Hamlet. She immediately runs to Claudius even though Hamlet told her not to say anything to the king, and that was the final push that made Claudius decide to kill Hamlet. The entirety of act IV, scene I deals with this- for example in (IV.I.25) the queen tells about the death and that Hamlet is now off “to draw apart the body he hath killed…”, suggesting that she did not have enough loyalty to her son to keep the secret. Because Laertes fast action as well as the queen’s disloyal actions to Hamlet, Act 5 is a train-wreck of passions and furies as loyalties butt heads and break, like Laertes confession to Hamlet right before death as well as Gertrude’s warning to Hamlet via shouting that her cup was poisoned that something was awry. To keep your word is sometimes a heavy promise, and the final death scene in Hamlet is a testament towards that.