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.

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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.

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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?

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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