Sunday, December 17, 2017

Ick

In recent class discussions, we’ve touched upon the rather unsettling stories of Ruth and her father—from both Ruth and Macon’s respective viewpoints. Macon paints a very graphic picture to the reader: his wife lying naked next to her father’s dead body, with Dr. Foster’s fingers in her mouth, among other disturbing events. Understandably, both Milkman and the reader are revolted. The story even seems too be too ludicrous to be true. In class, we discussed how Macon and Ruth are constantly trying to bring Milkman closer to one of them, and how Macon might be using this story to induce hateful feelings in Milkman towards his mother. 
A few chapters later however, as Milkman follows his mother to Dr. Foster’s grave, we are given the opportunity to hear Ruth’s side of the story. Ruth bases her story around the fact that she is a “small woman”, someone who was greatly deprived of intimacy and companionship after she married Macon. The one person who truly cared about her was her father, and thus, when he died, Ruth “kissed” his delicate fingers. She began visiting his grave on a regular basis, seeing him as the only person she could talk to. Ruth also paints a rather horrible picture of Macon; someone who both killed Dr. Foster and tried to kill Milkman himself. Again, as readers, we question the validity of her story—who is right?
For a while, I tended to believe Ruth more. Her story was understandable, based on how Macon interacted with her, and I definitely felt sympathetic. It was clear to me that from a young age, Ruth had always admired her father and felt a deep connection to him. There’s also the fact that Ruth had no idea Milkman was following her; she wouldn’t really have time to orchestrate an elaborate lie. 
However, things changed after I revisited Chapter 1. In the first handful of pages of the novel, Macon recalls the first time he met Dr. Foster, asking if he could “keep” Ruth from time to time. Dr. Foster agrees. Interestingly, the narrator (Morrison, not Milkman or Macon) adds that Dr. Foster was secretly glad that Ruth might be married to Macon. 
“Fond as he was of his only child…lately he had begun to chafe under her devotion. Her steady beam of love was unsettling, and she had never dropped those expressions of affection that had been so lovable in her childhood…at sixteen she still insisted on having him come to her at night. Sit on her bed, exchange a few pleasantries, and plant a kiss on her lips. Perhaps it was the loud silence of his dead wife, perhaps it was Ruth’s disturbing resemblance to her mother. More probably it was the ecstasy that always seemed to be shining in Ruth’s face when he bent to kiss her—an ecstasy he felt inappropriate to the occasion.”
After reading the above quote, I was taken aback. I had totally forgotten about this section in Chapter 1, and rereading it completely changed my idea of Ruth being completely truthful. I also think this makes the story all the more complex. Perhaps there were some incestuous feelings directed from Ruth to her father. That makes the scene of her lying next to the dead Dr. Foster more believable. We also learn that although Macon hated Dr. Foster, Dr. Foster knew Macon well and thought he was a decent young man. I once believed that Dr. Foster was fostering (haha) an inappropriate relationship with Ruth, but now I feel as if it was much more one sided—he seemed to be very uncomfortable with Ruth’s behavior as she grew older. Although I still sympathize with Ruth’s loneliness and abusive relationship with Macon, she clearly left things out in her story to Milkman. Yes, she might visit her father’s grave because he was the only one who cared about her, but there may be other reasons as well.

In the end though, I’m honestly not sure how much all of this matters. Ruth and Macon have been pointing fingers at each other for years, and it’s very clear that their relationship is nearly impossible to mend. In fact, all of these twisted stories prove how little communication lies between them. But as a reader, I find it very interesting that Morrison included the detail about Dr. Foster in chapter 1 from a narrator’s perspective, rather than one of the main characters’. The passage definitely made me reconsider my own opinions and alliances.

Wednesday, November 15, 2017

Betrayal and the Crowing Cock

In Wide Sargasso Sea, one detail that keeps popping up is the cock/rooster crowing. In one instance, Antoinette seems to specifically state that the rooster’s call impends betrayal. “But who is the traitor?” she questions. It becomes clear that the traitor in that instance is Amelie, who betrays Antoinette and sleeps with Rochester. Their encounter is arguably the last straw for Antoinette, who immediately leaves to meet Christophine. Later, after Antoinette's return, she grills Rochester over the affair, telling him that he’s no better than the old slave owners.
I was also curious to see whether the rooster’s crow signaled impending doom in other parts of the novel. Shortly after Antoinette and Rochester arrive in the island, Rochester mentions how he had to listen to “cocks crow all night”. As they explore the landscape the next day, Rochester feels uncomfortable, overwhelmed by the size and color; “too much blue, too much purple, too much green”. But perhaps the most telling is Rochester’s reaction to their temporary house, calling it “more awkward than ugly, a little sad as if it knew it could not last”. Here, we are provided with an ominous reference to Antoinette and Rochester’s eventual fate. In addition, the cocks crowing every night seem to strengthen this idea that from the start, their relationship would end in some sort of betrayal.
The last instance of the rooster’s call seems to be the most chilling. By this point in the novel, Rochester has transformed into a near madman-- to destroy Antoniette, he plans to take her back to Jamaica, and then England. He begins to write a letter to the lawyers in Spanish Town, requesting to rent a large house with separate suites, and servants who he would pay very liberally if they keep quiet about Antionette. The entire time that Rochester writes the letter, a cock crows persistently outside. Rochester is clearly annoyed and even throws a book at the animal, but the cock just moves further away and begins to crow again. This seems to indicate Rochester’s final--and worst-- betrayal: taking Antoinette away from the places she so dearly loves.

Upon further research, I also discovered that the image of a crowing cock is often used in literature as a symbol of Peter’s betrayal of Christ:  “I tell thee, Peter, the cock shall not crow this day before that thou shalt thrice deny that thou knowest me’, (the Bible, Luke 22:33). Thus, it makes a lot of sense how Rhys employed this image in her novel. Although there’s a feeling of unease throughout the entire novel, I think the crowing cock image was interesting to explore. We mentioned in class (earlier in the book, before Rochester goes crazy) that there might be a sliver of hope for Antoinette and Rochester’s relationship. There’s no denying that there are a few scarce moments of tenderness: when he buries his face in her hair, or admires her white dress. But I feel as if the rooster really drives home the point that despite these moments, Rochester and Antoinette were doomed from the moment they arrived in the islands.

Friday, November 3, 2017

Is Meursault Indifferent?


I think in general, the ending of The Stranger is pretty satisfying. Throughout the whole novel, emotions and everything are kind of pent up. Meursault finally seems to release everything in his long rant to the chaplain towards the end of the novel, and it definitely made me feel relieved. I guess you could think of it as a flood, slowly pushing against a wall, and it finally breaks through. In addition, afterwards, there is the sense of some “calm after the storm” when Meursault talks about the stars, the salt air and the “wondrous peace”.
Despite all of this, there’s some part of me that’s not satisfied. I still have questions about Meursault that I feel like were not answered.
First, he talks about the gentle indifference of the world, and how it feels like a brother to him. For me, this phrase suggests quite clearly that Meursault recognizes his own indifference towards things in his life— especially the consequences of his actions. I don’t think we should be surprised by this at all— his actions throughout the book, his line about “to shoot or not to shoot” all reflect his attitude.
But here’s the thing that confuses me a little. Prior to his execution, Meursault feels disappointed once he realizes that there will be no scaffold to climb, as if he wished the execution was more grand and dramatic. His last line in the book seems consistent with this idea as well. Meursault hopes that there is “a large crowd of spectators the day of my execution and that they greet me with cries of hate”. These thoughts seem to suggest that Meursault almost wants to be acknowledged for his idiosyncrasies. I think he recognizes that most people do not think or act in the same manner he does. Cheers of hate would validate that his ideas and attitude are at odds with society.
If this were confirmed, I think it would make death easier to cope with for Meursault. He can die knowing that he was sentenced because of his own philosophy, not necessarily because he killed a man. Maybe there’s some triumph in that acknowledgement.
However, I feel as if these two things are at odds with each other. On the one hand, Meursault describes himself as “indifferent”, but on the other, he seems to care about who wins the moral (?) battle in the end (what they are killing him for). So I don’t exactly know what to make of Meursault’s character at the end of the novel.
I had a decent amount of trouble fleshing out some of my ideas as I wrote this, but hopefully it makes at least some sense. How did you guys interpret the last few pages of the novel?

Wednesday, October 11, 2017

Who Killed Gregor?

Gregor dies at the conclusion of The Metamorphosis. At first, I thought his death was underwhelming in a way. Kafka opens the book by dramatically proclaiming that Gregor had been transformed into a giant insect. It was so absurd that for the first few pages, I wondered if it was only a nightmare. Based on the striking beginning, I initially expected Gregor to go out with a bang.
But, as we read, he dies peacefully in his room, shortly after dawn. His death is only really described in one paragraph. I think the nature of his death reflects what we've been talking about in class; how Gregor is reduced from the breadwinner to nothing more but a nuisance. His death seems almost emotionally insignificant to the family, which reflects how they have lost most, if not all sympathy for Gregor.
In contrast, as Gregor has slowly become this dependent creature, the rest of his family members have each becoming working, contributing members to society. So there's sort of a cycle, or reversal of roles.
I found the last part extremely sad to read. It made me dislike Gregor's family quite a bit. I guess I had a faint dislike for them ever since the beginning, where we saw Gregor groveling at his manager's feet while Gregor's dad was lazily enjoying his giant breakfast. I really disliked the fact that although the father was in debt, the whole family pushed the responsibility onto Gregor. Maybe I don't understand enough about family dynamics during the time period, but it seemed extremely unfair. It also made the family look a little pathetic.
The worst part to read was at the end, when Gregor's family had clearly lost all sympathy for him and decided it best to get rid of him somehow, and Gregor agrees. As he dies, all he thinks about is how he "must disappear", for the sake of his family. Despite how badly he has been treated by the family, especially by his father, Gregor still seems to be loyal and still has their best interests in mind.
This makes me wonder if he in a way, committed suicide. I know it's a bold statement, but by the end, Gregor was quite determined to die, to disappear. Perhaps he willingly lost the will to live (if that makes sense). In addition, most people who commit suicide do it because they feel as if they are a burden on family and friends. Gregor clearly feels this way.
Another way you could see it is that his family killed him. One huge blow was his father's apple throwing. Another was the lack of suitable food. It's possible that Gregor felt like he had no choice but to die, especially considering how weak he was due to his family's neglect.
No matter how you interpret Gregor's death, it's definitely a somber ending to an adventurous story.

Thursday, September 28, 2017

Brett Relies on Men

Some of the discussions and panel presentations as of late have brought up the idea that Brett embodies the image of "The New Woman". I think this is true, to some extent. Brett's heavy drinking, smoking, short hair and androgynous clothing suggest that she tries to distance herself from traditional feminine stereotypes. It also seems that all the men in the novel are constantly vying for Brett's attention.
But I believe that Brett, in the end, is as dependent on men as they seem to be dependent on her. Brett relies on them both financially and socially. One example is after her break up with Romero, where she sends a distressing telegram to Jake that says she is trouble. She later confesses that she has run out of money. Is it possible that Brett sent for Jake mainly so he could bail her out of Madrid? On one hand, it's kind of sad to think about, but I think it's plausible. 
In addition, Brett has never truly been alone throughout the course of the book. She was always with the Count, Cohn, Jake, Mike or Romero. It's possible that Brett needed these men in her life partially for financial support, but also partially to exert her dominance. We see Brett toy with the emotions of the men throughout the novel. We could debate about whether or not it's intentional, but in the end, her flirtatious manner is a huge part of Brett's character either way. It's a very 'Brett' thing to do. 
Because Brett is so used to interacting with men in that certain manner, it's odd that Brett is so emotional after her break up with Romero. When she leaves Mike for Romero, Brett doesn't think twice about Mike. But as Brett tells her breakup story to Jake, she is visibly shaken and lacks her usual self control. She tells Jake that they should stop talking about Romero, but Brett herself keeps mentioning his age, birthday, and language skills, among other things. In addition, Brett says that Romero was "ashamed of [her] for a while", but eventually got over it. However, a few lines later, Brett undermines herself by mentioning that Romero "would have gotten used to" her appearance later. The word "would" suggests that Romero was still disapproving of Brett towards the end of their relationship. These details seem to suggest Romero broke up with Brett, instead of the other way around.
This brings me back to Brett's need to asset her dominance over men. When Romero takes the position of power in the relationship, Brett is completely shaken. I highly doubt any man would have broken up with her before Romero (possibly) did, so rejection is a foreign feeling to Brett. In the end, Brett seems to realize that she cannot function alone. Thus, she immediately calls Jake to provide her with financial and emotional support, displaying how much Brett relies on the men in her life.



Thursday, September 14, 2017

Fear no more the heat of the sun

The saying "fear no more the heat of the sun" comes up repeatedly at various points in the novel, both from Clarissa and Septimus' points of view. After a little bit of research, I discovered that the quote is from Shakespeare's Cymbeline, and it is said as part of a funeral song in the play.
In Mrs. Dalloway, Clarissa first encounters the quote through a shop window that displays an open book. At first, this quote may seem confusing or unimportant. We have just met Clarissa and are beginning to learn more about her personality. However, if you look at the quote from the broader scope of the novel as a whole, it is very telling. Right before she sees the book, Clarissa thinks about death. She asks if it mattered that "she must inevitably cease completely", and asks "did it not become consoling to believe that death ended absolutely?" Clarissa, until the end of the novel, seems to fear death. Or, on the contrary, she seems to enjoy life thoroughly, saying "what she [Clarissa] loved was this, here, now, in front of her". Clarissa seems to find comfort in reading the words, "fear no more the heat of the sun" especially in the face of adversary.
Another similar instance occurs when Clarissa is disappointed after hearing that Lady Bruton has asked Richard to lunch. Lady Bruton is someone Clarissa looks up to, and she wasn't invited to Lady Bruton's lunch. Again, Clarissa looks to Shakespeare for comfort, repeating the line from Cymbeline. We also return to the image of death as Clarissa describes herself as feeling "suddenly shrivelled, aged and breastless" and notes her failing "body and brain", both of which are direct results of Clarissa not being invited.
Similarly, Septimus refers to this line of Shakespeare for a sense of comfort. As Rezia makes hats, the frightening images he sees, such as the dogs barking, fade "far away on shore". Septimus can finally relax, and "fear no more", as he relishes the golden beauty of nature in that moment. However, a mere few pages later, he commits suicide. Perhaps "fear no more" was not referring to Septimus' suicide directly, but Woolf seems to constantly put Shakespeare's quote in proximity to death imagery.
The last instance occurs near the end of Clarissa's party. She contemplates Septimus' death in a separate room and then watches the old woman go up to bed and turn off the light. Besides the obvious presence of Septimus' death, I think Woolf created additional death imagery with the old woman. She closes the blinds and turns off the light, and Clarissa watches her intently, saying "fear no more".  It seems that Septimus' death and the old woman have provided Clarissa a frame of reference to what life is, and she accepts the fact that she will die one day. The line also gives her the courage to face her past (literally), despite her regrets about it, and return to Sally and Peter.


Wednesday, August 30, 2017

Clarissa and Septimus

As we progress further into the novel, Woolf dives deeper into Septimus' thoughts, as well as providing a background story and further insight into his character. After reading these new sections, I think that quite a few parallels are emerging between Septimus and Clarissa.

The first hint of a connection between the two is when Woolf introduces the "beak-nosed" Septimus as a character. Clarissa was also described as beak-nosed, back in the first chapter. Because "beak-nosed" is quite a specific description, as opposed to just saying "pointed nose" or "large eyes" (features that number of people might share), it seems that Woolf is intentionally connecting the two in terms of physical description.

More important are the numerous parallels between their ways of thinking and attitudes towards the world and humanity itself. We know that Clarissa, for the most part, thoroughly enjoys life. She breathes in the bustling streets of London, and finds beauty in things such as the early morning sky and bunches of carnations and arum lilies. I would argue that Septimus is also able to find his own instances of beauty amidst his mental illness. Although strange to the reader, tears fill Septimus' eyes as he looks up at the plane, "this beauty, this exquisite beauty" (21).

In addition, both Clarissa and Septimus are readers, specifically readers of Shakespeare. In the first chapter, we see Clarissa reading a page from Cymbeline through a shop window. For Septimus, reading Anthony and Cleopatra before the war had a profound impact on him. Much like Clarissa describing Sally's kiss as "the most exquisite moment of her whole life", Septimus describes Shakespeare's work as lighting in him "such a fire as burns only one in a lifetime". I believe these details might be important in the broader narrative due to the reactions both characters received from others for reading Shakespeare. For example, Clarissa's husband, Richard, says Shakespeare's sonnets should never be read because it is similar to listening in on one's conversation through a keyhole. Sir William, who self-proclaims that he "never had time for reading", has some kind of "grudge" against Septimus and looks down upon his character. Perhaps both Richard and Sir William are stifling the true Clarissa and Septimus, respectively, and causing them to conform (intentional or not) to society instead.

I suspect that Woolf created Clarissa and Septimus to be reflections of each other. She puts them in the same city, London, but also in two very different worlds. Clarissa's biggest problems pale in comparison to Septimus' horrendous experiences. But they share other things, like their love of reading and their opinions on the stifling constraints of humanity, for example. I think Woolf might have done this to draw attention to the huge contrast between the different social classes in London at the time. Two people who are very similar at heart, but whose circumstances result in vastly different experiences.




Sunday, May 14, 2017

Isn't it funny? The way the mind works?

The sense of closure is very strong in Sag Harbor, especially compared to the other novels we've read this semester. In Catcher in the Rye, it was tough to tell if Holden had actually grown as a person by the time the novel ends. For both Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man and The Bell Jar, it was understood that both Stephen and Esther were about to open a new chapter in their lives. However, we are left in vague about how the future will fare for each of them.

In Sag Harbor, Ben very lays out a detailed plan for his new school year. He's going to reform his wardrobe, and "make out with three girls a semester". He's also going to be turning sixteen, which will allow him to attend more concerts and parties. As Ben puts it, "It was going to be a great year".
I find it interesting (and kind of cute) that Ben "[is] sure of it". I got the image of a boy standing up straight and taking a deep breath, ready to conquer whatever was thrown his way. A pretty firm image to end upon. No loose strings are left untied in this ending. Ben has gotten a job, kissed a girl, picked out a "little Benji" and it is understood that this chapter of his life, coming out to Sag Harbor, is coming to a close.

But the thing is, the novel doesn't end exactly there. Instead, Whitehead, shifting to present tense, makes the last sentence, "Isn't it funny? The way the mind works?"

It's a very interesting phrase to end on. For me, the fact that it's in present tense makes me think that future Benji is sort of chuckling at old Ben for being so idealistic. I don't really know what this implies. Maybe his school year turned out a lot differently than he initially thought? Or maybe he's commenting on how expectations in general are overrated? Or maybe that's not his intention at all.

Either way, the strong sense of closure I felt during this chapter felt sort of undermined by this last sentence. If I'm following my interpretation, it makes for an uneasy ending. The plan Ben described sounds like it would make for a pretty good year. But maybe the last sentence is indication he had a much crappier year than expected.

Thursday, April 20, 2017

Emotional Roller Coaster

The last two chapters of Black Swan Green were definitely quite intense. You have Jason's pent up frustration finally release. We see his inner "smart ass" come out. He has his first kiss. But while all of this is happening, his family is falling apart.
These sections were my favorite part of the whole book. It's very action packed, and as I read, I could vividly imagine everything playing out in a movie. In addition, I think by this point in the book we know Jason very well. We have experienced his insecurities and internal struggles over popularity and ethics. We know how he idolizes his sister, Julia. We've seen both compassionate and asshole versions of Jason (when he brushes off Dean repeatedly as a moron). Since we've basically befriended Jason, we can't help but let out a satisfactory grin when the calculator is crushed. We smile at Jason's exchange with Ms. Lippetts, banter that almost resembles Julia's rhetoric. I couldn't help but feel proud as Jason finds a girl to share his first kiss with- someone who wasn't Dawn Madden. And I felt heartbroken as Jason's dad struggled to explain that he was getting divorced.
Besides the emotions, I felt like there was closure in these two chapters, which I enjoyed. The fact that Jason was finally brave enough to expose his bullies after all this time was extremely satisfying to read. And of course, replacing Dawn with Holly. I think the title, January Man, really brings home the idea of coming full circle.
But I think with this sense of closure comes a new beginning, similar to novels (most notably) like The Bell Jar  or Joyce's Portrait. Esther steps over the threshold of the door, her future uncertain. Stephen leaves Ireland to pursue something extremely unpredictable. For Jason, the same type of feeling is present. Who knows if there will be bullies at his new school? How will he deal with his new stepmother? Will he find new friends? Although I hope that Jason's experiences will make him well-equipped for the future, you never know.

Thursday, March 30, 2017

Sylvie vs Luna Lovegood


Something that really struck me were the parallels between Sylvie in Housekeeping, and Luna Lovegood from the Harry Potter series (If you've read Harry Potter previously, you may be already drawing connections between the two). Although the chance that J.K. Rowling actually based Luna on Sylvie is near impossible, the two characters are remarkably alike.

If I tried to write about their numerous similarities it would get awfully repetitive, so I made a table:


Sylvie Fisher
Luna Lovegood
Likes to spend time amongst nature. For example, she doesn't sweep the leaves into the corner of her house because she doesn't want to disturb nature. She doesn’t mind the rodents, birds and insects that later inhabit the dilapidated house.
In the 5th movie, Luna is seen bringing apples to the thestrals in the Forbidden Forest, all while barefoot. In fact, Luna goes on in her adult career to become the wizarding equivalent of a naturalist, called a magizoologist.
Sylvie doesn’t mind the rain seeping through her shoes. In fact, she kind of enjoys it. She buys garish jeweled slippers for Ruth and Lucille. One Lucille realizes that the slippers aren’t particularly stylish by society standards, she rips the sequins off.
Luna owns a pink-strawberry printed pair of sneakers, which her classmates hid from her. Thus, for most of the year, she walks barefoot through the halls and outside. In the movie, she doesn’t seem very upset about it.
Expanding on Sylvie’s style, she arrives in Fingerbone wearing a green dress made of silk, complete with an ornate brooch of lilies.
Luna is well known for her odd sense of style. At a wedding, she shows up in bold yellow dress robes, complete with a sunflower in her hair. Luna also regularly wears radish earrings, a beetle ring, pink glasses with one red and one blue lens, and a necklace made of a Butterbeer cork.
Sylvie is a non-conformist by definition. Her idea friends are people who she has just met for mere hours. She does not eating with the lights on. She doesn’t keep the house tidy and often snacks on crackers stored in her coat pockets. Nearly everything about Sylvie’s lifestyle is the opposite of “normal”.
Ravenclaw prizes originality, creativity and individualism. Luna embodies these characteristics. She is well known for reading the Quibbler, her dad’s magazine, upside down. She also keeps onions in her purse, to ward off vampires. Luna’s often described as “bizarre” in the series by other characters.
Standing out in the crowd doesn’t come without judgement, however. In Housekeeping, almost all of Fingerbone whispers about the weird woman who is Sylvie. She is stared at nearly everywhere she goes. Soon, Lucille finds herself unable to live with such a non-conformist. The residents start to question Sylvie’s parenting abilities and turn their noses at the condition of her house. Sylvie doesn’t really mind all the attention until the close of chapter 9.
Luna is often referred to as “Loony Lovegood” for her eccentric appearance and behavior. As mentioned above, she was the frequent victim of stealing and hiding. For the most part, she was unfazed by all the rumors about her and instead chose to be non judgemental and quite accepting of the people around her.
Probably the hardest but most important characteristic to describe is the lofty, carefree manner in which Sylvie conducts herself. She remains calm under all circumstances, including the flooding. She doesn’t mind walking in damp clothes. Sometimes Sylvie, known for being remote, becomes lost in her own thoughts and doesn’t reply when her name is called.
Luna is also characterized by her dreamy and distant demeanor. When faced with an uninteresting conversation, she often drifts away. Luna has no trouble spending time alone with her thoughts. Although Harry, Ron and Hermione find her bizarre, they eventually become quite fond of her, just as Ruth becomes fond of Sylvie and her mannerisms.
Personally, I think Sylvie comes across as intelligent, in her own unique way. Although she does seem detached, I feel as if all her actions and words are very deliberate.
Luna is also smart (Ravenclaw), but not in the same way as say, Hermione is. She loves learning about odd things, and doesn’t care if it had a logical, practical application or not. She doesn’t care if people things she’s nuts or wasting her time. Instead, she wants to know things simply because they are there to know: she values knowledge for its own sake.


Imagining Sylvie as Luna had actually made the book come to life for me. Although there are lots of similarities between the two, there are also differences, which I didn't really address. As we come to the end of the book, I'm looking forward to see how Sylvie deals with some serious judgement coming her way.


Sunday, March 5, 2017

Forgetting About Pain vs Easing it

In The Bell Jar, one scene that stuck me as interesting was when Esther views childbirth for the first time and is particularly shocked by the medicine given to the woman on the table that knocks her out completely. The birth clearly has a large emotional effect on Esther, considering how vividly she remembers it. I wonder if it might be parallel to Esther's dislike towards men.
Probably the most recognizable example would be Buddy: the fact that Buddy might be delivering babies and giving out doses of the medicine in the future scares Esther, as she scarred by seeing the birth.  Buddy also says in a very "sinister, knowing way" that maybe when Esther is married she will not want to write poems anymore. This causes Esther to think about marriage and childbirth as equivalent to being "brainwashed" and becoming "numb as a slave in some private totalitarian state".
Another person who is very similar to Buddy is Dr. Gordon. Esther describes him as having "nearly perfect" features but immediately distrusts him. Esther's instincts about Dr. Gordon turns out to be fairly accurate. He makes her go through shock therapy, something Esther describes as a horrible "punishment".
Besides being similar in profession, both men attempt to (or believe in) make their patients forget pain, rather than help them work through it. The woman during childbirth was "given a drug that would make her forget". To Esther, it is "just like the sort of drug a man would invent". Although the drug would make her forget how bad the pain had been, a "windowless corridor of pain was waiting to open up and shut her in again".
This scene is almost mirrored during Esther's shock treatment, in which Dr. Gordon attempts to make Esther forget about her pain through electrotherapy. The woman giving birth was on some sort of "awful torture table, with these metal stirrups sticking up in mid-air at one end and all sorts of instruments and wires and tubes". The bed that Esther lays on is creepily similar, a "table on wheels with a machine on it" and is given wires to bite. The woman, despite having been given 'treatment' or medicine, was "in terrible pain, obviously feeling every bit of it". Esther also feels every bit of the shock treatment, thinking that with each jolt, her "bones would break".
In addition, I think the quote about the woman waiting for a "corridor of pain" to "shut her in again" is very similar to how Esther feels as if she is trapped in a bell jar. Although many people, including even her mother, try to make Esther numb towards her pain, she is trapped underneath a fog of pain that constantly returns.

After thought: The fact that Esther trusts Doctor Nolan is also telling about Esther's attitudes towards different genders. ALSO Esther's thoughts on double standards concerning chastity further hints at that.


Thursday, February 16, 2017

Holden's Hunting Hat


One interesting detail in The Catcher in the Rye that I’ve noticed is how often Holden will mention his unique hunting hat. As you may recall, he first obtained the red hunting hat for a dollar after leaving all the fencing team’s equipment on the subway. Even Holden admits it’s “corny” when he wears it with the peak in the back but he “likes it that way”. The hunting hat is an interesting item to consider because it’s sort of an inconsistent symbol, if it is at all. At first, I was inclined to think that the hunting hat, being so gaudy, represented how Holden knew he was different from everyone else and wanted to show it. But after looking for passages with mentions of the hat, it becomes unclear.Sometimes Holden seems proud, wearing his hat. He mentions multiple times that he really “got a bang” out of wearing it. He carries the hat everywhere he goes, and Holden seems incomplete without it. After Holden gets beaten by Stradlater, he searches for his “goddamn hunting hat”, making the two seem nearly inseparable. At other times though, Holden seems to be ashamed of wearing the hat. He usually takes it off in public, like when he was riding on the train or checking into the hotel. Holden acknowledges the hat makes him look like a “screwball”.

These two conflicting things make it harder to identify whether the hunting hat is symbolic of Holden’s identity and attitudes towards other people. For me, this aspect of the hat is inconclusive. However, I did notice that Holden always removes his hat in the presence of other adults, which brings me to my next point.

It may be that the hunting hat symbolizes Holden’s attachment to childhood. After all, most adults wouldn’t be caught wearing such an odd hat. Holden knows this and therefore takes his hat off around them. On the other hand, Holden puts on the hat at specific times, such as when he was writing about Allie’s baseball mitt, and when he leaves Pencey. He also puts on the hat after getting beaten by Stradlater, imagining himself himself as a tough hero covered in blood. To me, that symbolizes Holden’s desire to cling onto his childhood, which is as unrealistic as his ideal vision of the “tough Holden” in the mirror.

We also discussed the “catcher in the rye” scene in class, talking about how Holden wants to protect the other children from falling off the cliff, which could symbolize falling into adulthood. If we believe this to be true (which I think it is), then this further strengthens the argument of the hunting hat representing Holden’s own attachment to his childhood.

In the last scene, as he watches Phoebe ride the carousel, it starts to rain. Holden mentions that “My hunting hat really gave me quite a lot of protection, in a way, but I got soaked anyway”. I thought of this symbolizing Holden sort of coming to terms with his age. He can dream as much as he wants about the idealized world and childhood, but in the end, he cannot avoid the fact that he will grow up. It is inevitable.




Friday, February 3, 2017

Good vs likeable



I met Holden yesterday, and I didn't really enjoy the encounter. He seems like the entitled white boy, accompanied by a lot of teenage angst. His language is rather crude, speaking in short frank sentences loaded with unnecessary curse words.He seemed to make it his mission to find some fault with everything and everyone he encountered. Holden seemed extremely indifferent- he didn’t seem to care about his fencing team or his grades, and threw the word moron around without a care in the world. What irritated me most was probably this aura of superiority I felt surrounded him. He constantly called other people phonies, which seemed pretty obnoxious. Who even asked for Holden’s opinion in the first place? Why do people even want to be liked by Holden? I definitely did not find him likeable.

But is he a good person?
Now that we've read more into the book, I will definitely say he is good at heart. The way he protects Jane, the girl from his childhood, and Phoebe, his sister, is almost (excuse me for my lack of refined words) cute, in a puppy-eyed kind of manner. Jane is constantly on Holden's mind, and his musings of Jane seem different from Holden's thoughts of anyone else. Whenever Holden thinks of Jane, he fondly recalls childhood memories, such as the way she looked when she got excited about things, or the time they went golfing and Jane lost eight balls. On the contrary, Holden constantly judges other people on a surface level- literally. He emphasizes Ackley's pimply face, and Stradlater's impressive physique. Although Holden briefly mentions Jane's appearance on not being "strictly beautiful", he still focuses on experience. Holden even mentions that he got to know Jane "quite intimately", but not by means of sex. For me, this display of affection stands out in stark contrast to Holden's indifference towards nearly everything else, and makes me think that he actually has a heart.
Another thing we might explore is Holden's affinity of calling things "phony". As I mentioned earlier, I initially looked at it as Holden being unreasonably bitter. Yet after getting a glimpse into Holden's protective side, using the word "phony" might be Holden's way to protect his own pride.
We know that Holden, like Stephen Dedalus, is a loner. He sits alone at the football game and doesn't seem to connect with many people. Everyone who rejects or offends Holden in some manner is bound to be a phony. Whether it be the girls in the Lavender Room or Ackley in his own room, they're all phonies to Holden.
I feel as if that is Holden's defense mechanism- he might be trying to make himself feel better when he's rejected. So what if the girls make him pay for their drinks? They're phonies. He tries to convince himself that he's high and lofty and out of their league, instead of facing the fact that he is lonely.
The first chink I saw in Holden's armor was the affection he displayed towards certain people. For someone who doesn't give a single shit about a lot of things, it was a bit surprising. These observations bring me to say that Holden is good, but not likeable. His defense mechanism of finding fault in others doesn't really scream, "I'm a nice, friendly person:". But likeability is shallow in regard to character, and I do believe that underneath Holden's mask is indeed a heart.


*This was written earlier in the week but after class discussions my opinion has shifted!!



Wednesday, January 18, 2017

Stephen likes to smell things


One tiny detail that has consistently been popping up in Joyce's Portrait of the Artist as a young man is Stephen's heightened sense of smell. It sounds rather odd, but it's quite interesting to explore.
We can trace Stephen's affinity for smell to the beginning of the novel, on page one. To baby Stephen, the oil sheet smelled 'queer', and his mother 'had a nicer smell than his father'. Dante's slippers had a "lovely warm smell", while the chapel had a "cold night smell"- not like the smell of "old peasants who knelt at the back", but rather a "holy smell".
We can see that from a very young age, Stephen is associating places and people with a certain smell. I think, in a way, we can see Joyce reflected through Stephen's olfactory experiences.
We all subconsciously smell things- the smell of someone's house, or the smell of the air after rain. Although we notice these, we often don't dwell on these things too much. Joyce, however, places a certain emphasis on telling the reader what Stephen's nose is experiencing. The words 'vapour', 'odour' and 'smell' appear in the book over seventy times. Each time he mentions a smell, there is often an emotion paired with it- understandably so, since smell is strongly connected to emotional response.
For example, in chapter one, Stephen's old school has a "weak, sour smell". In Father Arnall's sermon, he depicts Hell as filled with the stench of rotting bodies- something Stephen takes to heart and recoils strongly at. I think these smells are one of the ways that Joyce is guiding, or even controlling Stephen's story. Joyce uses smells to tilt Stephen's emotions one way or another to certain things, and subsequently is building his unique character.
Another certain passage where I think we get a little bit of Joyce's own opinion is when the rumor was spread at school that the boys were caught drinking the scared wine. The wine on the rector's breath makes Stephen feel sickly, as Joyce notes several times. Wine is not a traditionally bad smell, like stinky socks might be, but Joyce chooses to make Stephen dislike the smell. I might be stretching this, but the fact that the sacred altar wine offends Stephen's nostrils might say something about Joyce's own attitude towards the church.