tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66658217637236378342024-03-17T20:01:05.373-07:00Terry Heath ArtPaintings, Prints, and Pottery by Terry HeathTerry Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12072061386395979977noreply@blogger.comBlogger64125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6665821763723637834.post-20091462299777636612024-03-16T13:08:00.000-07:002024-03-16T13:08:36.179-07:00Banjo Bunny<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKsD_WMb_Lu3x3E6YKt6SMW2NDZQR57B6wNN1D7cK_xm8lQN3EdoI89fxDxh4iBQS5dF8RvJZbpsOdsuf9mo7F66WDYOIfyKb4fXZ99e14d3lzKBw1V2O_3ibakNkSRRS8hsecIYpz6vLrlrCkvm_W4xxz3sHNDdEoBviXiiKFDB-eLFX62ffTEjbXPoGX/s3600/Untitled_Artwork%20(3).png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3600" data-original-width="2400" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKsD_WMb_Lu3x3E6YKt6SMW2NDZQR57B6wNN1D7cK_xm8lQN3EdoI89fxDxh4iBQS5dF8RvJZbpsOdsuf9mo7F66WDYOIfyKb4fXZ99e14d3lzKBw1V2O_3ibakNkSRRS8hsecIYpz6vLrlrCkvm_W4xxz3sHNDdEoBviXiiKFDB-eLFX62ffTEjbXPoGX/w426-h640/Untitled_Artwork%20(3).png" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"Banjo Bunny" 5" x 7" print on 8" x 10" printmaking paper.</div><br /><p></p>Terry Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12072061386395979977noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6665821763723637834.post-89239991567770384042022-09-07T13:42:00.005-07:002024-03-16T12:45:30.140-07:0012" x 12" Acrylic Flow Painting, DA-2<p>12" x 12" Acrylic Flow Painting, by Terry Heath, DA-2. Craft acrylic and Elmer's Glue on canvas.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLMjLma_ExoJE8-FaAzz_Hgwv3lo8vp1cNTxHJ6cvEdb0Hdp7sZ-DM8g7nYzSEQiigsDOljj_Ocyn9KZeRbS1qSVoEA330nmHCSj-bB8aNWM2wrMO9fwd7Z13srrt9N1SQk_J9N2JO2_pKazTSzWOfzJj-SiqgErE-0G_4CuIy1-HZC4gOzTongS7bVw/s2395/IMG_3390.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2395" data-original-width="2368" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLMjLma_ExoJE8-FaAzz_Hgwv3lo8vp1cNTxHJ6cvEdb0Hdp7sZ-DM8g7nYzSEQiigsDOljj_Ocyn9KZeRbS1qSVoEA330nmHCSj-bB8aNWM2wrMO9fwd7Z13srrt9N1SQk_J9N2JO2_pKazTSzWOfzJj-SiqgErE-0G_4CuIy1-HZC4gOzTongS7bVw/w632-h640/IMG_3390.jpg" width="632" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Terry Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12072061386395979977noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6665821763723637834.post-4766363328153962632022-09-07T13:23:00.005-07:002024-03-16T12:45:46.509-07:0012" x 12" Acrylic Flow Painting, DA-1<p> 12" x 12" Acrylic Flow Painting, by Terry Heath, DA-1. Craft acrylic and Elmer's Glue on canvas.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZc4N3OG0aHuR15w6QeNFaJsBoWlub80ZEoXBKMsCptw7vmR0Fc32-xIa-LYY6tASkQjp9dDXFEDcnxxMwuHtGZLXA-zhn0u-gGGYVBF0n2dtrtE_qiaMd1bxG7G7-t6Py35wtnWuZjMqK_g9IqP2uQhK3UBF7GKz1Pd8RRgleb0zRqq8sD7o5dAV8AA/s2469/IMG_3391.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2466" data-original-width="2469" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZc4N3OG0aHuR15w6QeNFaJsBoWlub80ZEoXBKMsCptw7vmR0Fc32-xIa-LYY6tASkQjp9dDXFEDcnxxMwuHtGZLXA-zhn0u-gGGYVBF0n2dtrtE_qiaMd1bxG7G7-t6Py35wtnWuZjMqK_g9IqP2uQhK3UBF7GKz1Pd8RRgleb0zRqq8sD7o5dAV8AA/w640-h640/IMG_3391.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Terry Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12072061386395979977noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6665821763723637834.post-68304454754503257532022-02-18T17:27:00.000-08:002022-03-14T21:22:00.966-07:00Geoffrey Chaucer's Moral Tales "Wife of Bath" and "Pardoner"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhv8-ghd-2-n4HQfG_wQlsEx8gecx47RJyrnBYHgmlVsEx2yyMsUbUI8dYE6PSXeoEuMR3N3FklpcR9V3JaS6YBYlPY3-E0yj0LFLFcFdJC-1Bw17t8sTbyDQdvlK852IVxju3V6hW0gw4Vl0chSxvgHX4TBB_Iwfpvc7DWrdIhB_ib0gp84nOKP49z=s3476" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3476" data-original-width="2723" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhv8-ghd-2-n4HQfG_wQlsEx8gecx47RJyrnBYHgmlVsEx2yyMsUbUI8dYE6PSXeoEuMR3N3FklpcR9V3JaS6YBYlPY3-E0yj0LFLFcFdJC-1Bw17t8sTbyDQdvlK852IVxju3V6hW0gw4Vl0chSxvgHX4TBB_Iwfpvc7DWrdIhB_ib0gp84nOKP49z=s16000" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>P.T. Barnum may not actually have said, “There’s a sucker born every minute,” but it nevertheless seems to have become the creed of snake charmers and snake oil salesmen through the ages.<div><br /></div><div>But prior to Barnum, Geoffrey Chaucer gave us both a snake oil salesman and a snake charmer in the Pardoner and the Wife of Bath in his <em>The Canterbury Tales</em>. The Wife of Bath may not be a snake charmer in the traditional sense, but she might try to charm a snake out of its skin, or at least his clothing. The Pardoner may not charm the snake at all, but he’ll sell you both its oil and its skin, and make you believe you’ll go to heaven in the bargain. </div><div><br /></div><div>Betwixt the two, we find two <span class="blsp-spelling-error"><b>exemplas</b></span>, the moral tales which were popular in Medieval times.</div><div><br />Ladies first, if <span class="blsp-spelling-error">Alisoun</span> may be called a lady. In this Wife of Bath’s quite lengthy prologue we learn of her five husbands as well as her Biblical justification for having had so many. We also hear of her <span class="blsp-spelling-error">poweress</span> both in marriage and in the marriage bed. For this reason, the tale is usually grouped with the Clerk’s, Merchant’s, and Franklin’s tales in the Marriage Group. Another division is sometimes preferred by scholars which separates the stories with moral issues from those that deal with magical issues, placing her tale in the later group.</div><div><br />But the Wife of Bath’s tale seems to live in both worlds, the moral and the magical. Enchantress that she is, the Wife of Bath may be using the subject of magic to empower her tale about making a moral choice; her superstitious audience might be charmed more easily if magic turns the tale’s pages. Although the tale’s moral <span class="blsp-spelling-error">isn</span>’t of a religious nature, the moral <span class="blsp-spelling-error">Alisoun</span> implies is clear; the woman should reign supreme in marriage.<br /><blockquote>So they lived ever after to the end<br />In perfect bliss; and may Christ Jesus send<br />Us husbands meek and young and fresh in bed,<br />And grace to overbid them when we wed.<br />And – <span class="blsp-spelling-error">Jesu</span> hear my prayer! – cut short the lives<br />Of those who won’t be governed by their wives;<br />And all old, angry niggards of their pence,<br />God send them soon a very pestilence!<br />(292, Penguin)</blockquote><span class="blsp-spelling-error">Exemplas</span> would have been used by Medieval preachers to enhance their sermons, driving home a moral conclusion or illustrating a point of doctrine. With this definition, The Wife of Bath’s Tale might not be considered an <span class="blsp-spelling-error">exempla</span> at all. But it could be argued since Chaucer made <span class="blsp-spelling-error">Alisoun</span>’s prologue twice as long as her tale, and since in it she frequently reinforced her idea of female dominance with the teachings of Christ and the Apostles, that she did use her story to enhance her own doctrine of life, love, and marriage.<br /><br /></div><div>The message behind the Pardoner’s tale is clearly moral, but less obvious is the irony created by the person of its teller; after the Pardoner’s self-revelation he seems an unlikely preacher against avarice. The Pardoner admits to using his position within the Roman Catholic Church to extort the poor and helpless, pocket indulgences, and generally fail to abide by the church's teachings on jealousy and avarice.<br /><br /></div><div>The Pardoner’s Prologue contains a confession similar to details the Wife of Bath gives away about herself in her own prologue. His mention of a “draught of corny strong ale” might suggest he is being so open because he is drunk, but this is not 100% clear.</div><div><br />Unlike the Wife of Bath, the Pardoner is sexually deficient. Prior to his tale, in the general prologue, the Pardoner is described as beardless with a small goat-like voice. The narrator concludes the Pardoner is either a gelding <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected">eunuch</span> or a mare (effeminate), but more importantly these descriptions draw parallels between his sexual deficiency and his spiritual deficiency. The Pardoner is like a travelling salesman, seeking to set himself up as the ultimate source for religious relics. But just as his relics are spiritually impotent, so is this impotent man.<br /><br /></div><div>While Chaucer wrote powerful <span class="blsp-spelling-error">exemplas</span> in his Pardoner and Wife of Bath tales, the irony between their content and their respective narrators castrates their intrinsic message and leaves both impotent. The Wife of Bath may seem an early champion of women's rights, but her excesses leave one to question her motives. The Pardoner may find a following to hear his spiritual message, but his material indulgences leave that message nearly as impotent as his physical self.</div><div><br /></div><div>Nevertheless, these tales and prologues are insightful enough to enhance <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected">discourses</span> on religion as well as <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected">discourses</span> on human nature, even if it is at the expense of those who tell them.</div>Terry Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12072061386395979977noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6665821763723637834.post-79882190411619197562017-06-05T07:43:00.000-07:002022-03-11T23:05:28.269-08:00Emapathy=Maturity in Zindel's "The Pigman"In <i>The Pigman</i>, author Paul Zindel follows many expected tropes in young adult literature: coming of age, wild exploration, passion, etc. However, Zindel excels in his exploration of another important trope of the genre, what Havinghurst identifies as “achieving emotional independence from parents and other adults.” In <i>The Pigman</i>, the protagonists Lorraine and John achieve emotional independence from their parents by learning to understand and empathize with them. <br /><br />More empathetic than John from the beginning of the story, Lorraine is the more emotionally mature of the two; however, while Lorraine is able to empathize with her teachers and the school librarian, she is initially unable to empathize with her mother. John may arguably be the more typical of the two teenage characters, showing little empathy for anyone at the beginning of the story and by inference, less maturity. <br /><br />After building a relationship with Mr. Pignati and witnessing his fears, such as being alone and dying without anyone to love or anyone who loves him, Lorraine and John realize these fears are universal. As they admit these are fears they face themselves, they come to realize their parents also experience them. This newfound empathy toward their parents is what allows Lorraine and John to gain the objectivity and understanding that leads to healthy emotional independence from them. <br /><br />Interestingly, Zindel’s Pulitzer-Prize winning play <i>The Effect of Gamma Rays on Man-in-the-Moon Marigolds</i> features an awkward girl named Tillie. Throughout the play, Tillie is empathetic toward her domineering mother, Beatrice. Tillie argues with her sister Ruth, defending their mother against Ruth’s verbal attacks. Eventually, that empathy is what causes Tillie to become completely passive and allow her mother to dominate her. Both characters created by Zindel, Tillie and Lorraine, are mousy, awkward girls. However, unlike Tillie, Lorraine’s new-found empathy toward her mother is what leads her to understanding that protects her from being dominated. These two opposing takes on the same theme makes it appear “where empathy leads” was something Zindel sometimes contemplated. <br /><br />In fact, the theme “where empathy leads” or more specifically “empathy=maturity” is repeated enough in young adult literature that perhaps it should be included in the lists of YA literature characteristics. Not only have we seen it in <i>The Pigman</i>, but it was clearly a theme in <i>Anne of Green Gables</i> and <i>The Outsiders</i>. We see it in other YA classics too: <i>The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn</i> and <i>To Kill a Mockingbird</i> come to mind, as do others.Terry Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12072061386395979977noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6665821763723637834.post-26864450006488379682017-06-05T07:38:00.000-07:002022-03-11T23:05:28.266-08:00Pathos, Ethos, and Logos in Hinton's "The Outsiders"When Aristotle wrote his treatise on the art of persuasion 2400 years ago, he identified its three main elements: audience (pathos), purpose (logos), and tone (ethos). Today, practice still honors Aristotle’s insight as a touchstone for any persuasive document. One reason S.E. Hinton’s novel <i>The Outsiders</i> retains its persuasive appeal to young readers is the way it addresses these three classic elements of persuasion. <br /><br />Obviously, Hinton considered her audience, whether consciously or not, while writing her novel. Will Rogers High School English teacher Kim Piper noted that “kids here can especially identify with Ponyboy and his group” because they share a similar level of poverty. Will Rogers 9th grader Esteban Rivero said that he relates to the book because “It talks about how youngsters live and how they can get all caught up in their friends and cliques.” Specifically, Hinton establishes the age and socioeconomic classification of the narrator in the first line: “When I stepped out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the movie house, I had only two things on my mind: Paul Newman and a ride home” (pg. 3). This line establishes the narrator is too young to drive and/or cannot afford a car, or he would not need a ride. He is a thinker and possibly an introvert, or he would not be considering something as abstract as identity. To some extent he is a loner, or he would not be doing these things alone. This opening line creates an emotional connection with much of the book’s audience within its first 30 words. <br /><br />Hinton wrote her novel with a clear purpose in mind and planned its execution to fulfill that purpose. She said “Teenagers today want to read about teenagers today.” One technique leading to that end is that her major characters were all under the age of 20 and the book’s narrator was only 14. Ralph Macchio, who played Johnny in the book’s film adaptation, said the book reached him as a 12 year old because its narrator was a teenager, not an adult. The narrator’s description of his preferred breakfast food and that of his brothers, and the fact that it is offered without caveat or apology, is one of the many passages that clearly show this narrator is not an adult:<br /><blockquote class="tr_bq">“We all like our eggs done differently. I like them hard, Darry likes them in a bacon-and-tomato sandwich, and Sodapop eats his with grape jelly. All three of us like chocolate cake for breakfast. Mom had never allowed it with ham and eggs, but Darry let Soda and me talk him into it. We really didn't have to twist his arm; Darry loves chocolate cake as much as we do. Sodapop always makes sure there's some in the icebox every night and if there isn't he cooks one up real quick. I like Darry's cakes better; Sodapop always puts too much sugar in the icing. I don't see how he stands jelly and eggs and chocolate cake all at once, but he seems to like it. Darry drinks black coffee, and Sodapop and I drink chocolate milk. We could have coffee if we wanted it, but we like chocolate milk. All three of us are crazy about chocolate stuff. Soda says if they ever make a chocolate cigarette I'll have it made.” (pg. 88)</blockquote>Hinton wrote with a tone that built credibility with the book’s target audience. She acknowledged the book “was overemotional, over the top, melodramatic,” but said “kids feel that way.” Again, many examples from the text would demonstrate this. One segment in particular might not only be labeled somewhat “melodramatic,” but could also be seen as Hinton explaining, through the words of her narrator, her purpose behind writing the book. In fact, it gives the reason the narrator would supposedly go on to tell this story:<br /><blockquote class="tr_bq">“I could picture hundreds and hundreds of boys living on the wrong sides of cities, boys with black eyes who jumped at their own shadows. Hundreds of boys who maybe watched sunsets and looked at stars and ached for something better. I could see boys going down under street lights because they were mean and tough and hated the world, and it was too late to tell them that there was still good in it, and they wouldn't believe you if you did. It was too vast a problem to be just a personal thing. There should be some help, someone should tell them before it was too late. Someone should tell their side of the story, and maybe people would understand then and wouldn't be so quick to judge a boy by the amount of hair oil he wore. It was important to me.” (pg. 152)</blockquote>Overall, if S. E. Hinton had not considered her audience, purpose, and the tone she wanted to create, she would not have built the emotional connection, credibility, and framework critical to the success of her breakthrough novel, <i>The Outsiders</i>. Her audience was clearly young outsiders. She said her purpose was to write something teenagers would want to read. She chose to write in a voice to which teenagers could relate. Hinton designed each of her rhetorical choices to address these essential elements of persuasion, and as a result wrote a very persuasive novel.Terry Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12072061386395979977noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6665821763723637834.post-21318381384496422802017-06-05T07:29:00.000-07:002022-03-11T23:05:28.266-08:00"Anne of Green Gables" as Young Adult FictionYoung Adult (YA) literature is a greased pig, hard to catch and even harder to hold onto. Some define it broadly, pretty much including any work of fiction with an adolescent who is 13-19 years old. With a protagonist who is younger than that it's either MG or "Children's." With a slightly older protagonist, it's now popular to call it "New Adult" (a very hot genre, by the way). Some of the narrower definitions touch upon style (straightforward) and themes (coming of age, etc). There are several tropes in YA, which vary depending on the more specific genre classification. In other words, you can put YA in front of any standard genre and it's considered a new genre (YA Romance, YA Horror, YA Fantasy, etc.).<br /><br />The problem lies in the practice. Although a true genre should have somewhat consistent themes and tropes, current practice is to classify just about anything with an adolescent protagonist as YA. So if it's a fantasy story with a young protagonist, it's YA Fantasy. If it's a romance with a young protagonist, it's YA Romance. The list goes on.<br /><br />So then authors who did not write their books for young adults become labeled "YA authors." Mark Twain did not consider his <i>Huckleberry Finn</i> a YA novel, but how often is it marketed as such? Harper Lee didn't write <i>To Kill a Mockingbird </i>for children, but it has a young protagonist, so it's marketed YA or even MG. Shouldn't the author's intent have something to do with it? Additionally, both of these novels have found an adult audience, and that audience may even be embarrassed to admit their favorite book is a "Children's Book." Myself, I enjoyed <i>A of GG</i> a lot, but would be embarrassed to admit that in many circles because it's considered a children's book. <br /><br />With these things in mind, yes, <i>Anne of Green Gables </i>is readily classified YA (or more accurately MG since young readers tend to read protagonists slightly older than themselves), but doing so could leave a large chunk of its potential audience on the table. Yes, the protagonist is an adolescent, and the story line could easily be classified a "coming of age" story, but there is more to it than that. How many YA readers will laugh knowingly at Anne's plights, vocabulary, and attitudes? How many of them will truly understand why Matthew and Marilla (or Aunt Josephine, for that matter) are drawn to Anne? Wouldn't many young readers be frustrated with Anne's decision to turn down the scholarship and stay with Marilla, and idea older readers might find comforting?<br /><i><br /></i><i>A of GG</i> doesn't moralize like many of its predecessors, preaching the "right" way for children to behave, at least not in all aspects of the story. Earlier novels aimed at children might not dare make a heroine who is essentially rewarded for being stubborn and sassing her elders. If it were intended for YA audiences, that aspect of <i>A of GG</i> could be problematic. As Gammel points out, writing this story was a sort of self-help for Montgomery, a cathartic exorcism of her own demons.<br />All that said, calling this story YA depends on your definition (or practice) in classifying anything YA. By current practice, sure it's a YA predecessor of all those other YA books with young protagonists. But I would argue many of those other stories are misclassified as well.Terry Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12072061386395979977noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6665821763723637834.post-61860501565878350222017-06-05T06:55:00.000-07:002022-03-11T23:05:28.267-08:00The Influence of "Huckleberry Finn" on Young Adult LiteratureHemingway once wrote, “All modern American literature comes from one book by Mark Twain called <i>Huckleberry Finn</i>. There was nothing before. There has been nothing as good since" (28). Of course, there have been those who disagree. In an 1885 New York World review, Joseph Pulitzer called <i>The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn</i> "cheap and pernicious stuff” with a "wretchedly low, vulgar, sneaking and lying Southern country boy" as the protagonist. At the same time, The San Francisco Evening Bulletin called the story’s influence on children "not altogether desirable, nor is it one that most parents who want a future of promise for their young folks would select without some hesitation." While Hemingway’s praise overlooks the value of other literature through the centuries into modern times, the fact that <i>Huckleberry Finn</i> remains a pillar of Young Adult (YA) literature more than 130 years after its publication at least partially justifies Hemingway’s enthusiasm for the novel. Looking outside the publishing realm, Jonathan Arac points out that there is a “long tradition of using <i>Huckleberry Finn</i> as the basis for statements proclaiming what is truly American” (18). Within publishing, not only has Twain’s exemplary novel been influential in YA literature’s history, where its influence stems from a level of craft found infrequently in the work of Twain’s contemporaries, but that level of craft has done much to advance the genre as a whole.<br /><br />Several components of <i>Huckleberry Finn</i> are precursors to what have become the mainstays of modern YA Literature. Andrew Levy, Butler University Professor, notes “<i>Huck Finn’s</i> shadow is all over the current vogue in young adult fiction.” He further asserts, “Not just <i>Hunger Games</i>, not just <i>Harry Potter</i>: Everything from <i>Home Alone</i> and <i>Diary of a Wimpy Kid</i> to half the shows on Nickelodeon. Huck is the template” (Ernsberger 28).<br /><br />First, <i>Huck Finn</i> is narrated in the first-person point of view (POV), which has become the go-to POV for modern YA literature because it increases relatability with the narrator and allows the reader to more readily suspend disbelief in fantastic or melodramatic situations common to the genre. The overwrought teen emotion of Hinton’s <i>The Outsiders</i>, which the author cites as a contributing factor in its success, may have been less acceptable outside the first-hand account of Ponyboy. The science-fiction elements of <i>The Hunger Games Trilogy</i> might not have been as believable if not described by the story’s trustworthy narrator, Katniss Everdeen. First-person POV not only allows the narrator to speak in an authentic, colloquial style, attractive to young readers, but also allows the reader to “hear” the narrator and pick up nuances of character through word choices that reflect attitudes and social class. When we read Huck’s charming yet repetitive opening lines, we learn more about him than we could in pages of exposition:<br /><blockquote class="tr_bq">You don’t know about me without you have read a book by the name of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer; but that ain’t no matter. That book was made by a Mr. Mark Twain, and he told the truth, mainly. There was things which he stretched, but mainly he told the truth. That is nothing. I never seen anybody but lied one time or another, without it was Aunt Polly, or the widow, or maybe Mary. Aunt Polly – Tom’s Aunt Polly, she is – and Mary, and the Widow Douglas is all told about in that book, which is mostly a true book, with some stretchers, as I said before. (2)</blockquote>Within this choice of POV, Twain’s novel was revolutionary in its use of dialect. When other writers imitated European literature, Twain wrote as Americans actually spoke. American English was vivid and emotional, and Twain’s decision to utilize it changed how future YA authors, along with authors in other genres, wrote.<br /><br />As a second area of influence, <i>Huckleberry Finn</i> contains themes to which adolescent readers may relate. Huck embarks on a journey where he meets a variety of characters who give the story the spice of life, an attraction for adolescents who may be bored with their lives or have other reasons to seek escape. Many young readers also relate to Huck’s experiences with absent parents and as a victim of abuse. Other elements of <i>Huckleberry Finn </i>further comprise the go-to themes in modern YA literature: friendship, adventure, rebellion against adult institutions and authority, and the evergreen coming-of-age story. Many of these themes are present in <i>The Hunger Games</i> and <i>The Outsiders</i>, but the list goes on. Would Lorraine and John have met Angelo Pignati in Zindel’s <i>The Pigman</i> if they hadn’t been bored with their lives? Would they have cultivated that relationship if they had not had the autonomy and emotional need caused by absent parents? What modern YA classic does not include some level of rebellion against adult institutions? The list of coming-of-age stories includes many classics from <i>Anne of Green Gables</i> (Montgomery), through <i>To Kill a Mockingbird</i> (Lee), to <i>The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian</i> (Alexie) and beyond. Each of these themes are easily traced back to Twain’s <i>Huck Finn</i>.<br /><br />Incidentally, Twain’s novel was by no means the first of the Bildungsroman genre. Charlotte Brontë’s <i>Jane Eyre</i>, Emily Brontë’s <i>Wuthering Heights</i>, and the works of Jane Austen (published 1811-15 and posthumously in 1818 and 1871), readily come to mind. However, these earlier novels debuted when publishers were marketing books to instruct and improve the morals of the nation’s youth. <i>Huck Finn</i> appears to mock such well-meaning efforts, and did not represent Twain’s first attempt to do so. Twenty years earlier, Twain wrote his “Advice for Good Little Boys” in Youth’s Companion Magazine: “You ought never to take anything that don’t belong to you – if you can’t carry it off.” According to Levy, the 1880s audience “focused on what Twain was saying about children and to them,” but “Twain was saying that the adult instinct to ‘reform’ children was part of the problem” and was “deeply frustrated with how American children are raised” (Ernsberger 27).<br /><br />Further contributing to the relatability of <i>Huckleberry Finn</i>, and another practice common to later YA authors, Twain drew from his own experiences growing up. Huck and Jim discuss that “ole King Sollermun” had a million wives. Jim says a million wives would be excessive, and that the king’s judgment in the case of the two quarreling women makes sense because any man “dat’s got ‘bout five million chillen ‘round de house” would just “as soon chop a chile in two as a cat. Dey’s plenty mo’,” and Huck realizes Jim has “an uncommon head” for an ignorant man. Andrew Levy notes exchanges such as these are derived from the minstrel shows Twain had seen as a young Missouri boy (Ernsberger 28). Twain based his characters on real or real-to-life Americans of the period. In his autobiography, Twain recounts that he drew his protagonist Huck from a real-life childhood friend, Tom Blankenship, who “was ignorant, unwashed, insufficiently fed; but he had as good a heart as ever any boy had.” Such autobiographical elements are present in later YA works like <i>To Kill a Mockingbird</i> and <i>The Outsiders</i>.<br /><br />However, one area of influence commonly attributed to <i>The Adventures of Huckleberry Fin</i>n may not have been Twain’s intention in writing the book. The YA problem novel is a term first used in the late 1960s referring to works such as <i>The Outsiders</i> and <i>The Pigman</i>, as well as the earlier Newbery Award Winner <i>It’s Like This, Cat</i> by Emily Cheney Neville. A subgenre that focuses on the negative aspects of the format was later seen in books like <i>Go Ask Alice</i> (by Anonymous, now attributed to the book’s editor, Beatrice Sparks) and Laurie Halse Anderson’s <i>Speak</i>. What many modern readers see as the novel’s greatest moment of “psychological subtlety and moral insight” (Pell 8) went unnoticed by critics and downplayed by Twain himself. It takes place when Huck decides to further deprive Widow Douglas of her property, the slave Jim whom Huck earlier helped escape, and decides, “All right then, I’ll go to hell.” Huck’s decision is bold, and today’s readers cheer him for it, but we are later disappointed when Huck agrees to participate in a needless, convoluted, and outright cruel plot to recapture Jim so the two boys can help him escape more dramatically.<br /><br />Levy observes, Huck "swore to go to hell for Jim, but can't stand up to Tom Sawyer" (139), but evidence supports the idea that Twain did not see his creation as a problem novel. When <i>Huckleberry Finn</i> appeared on the scene, critics seemed to ignore the story’s attitudes about race; their attentions fell to Twain’s “raw, unsentimental and unsettling view of boyhood” (Pell 8). Andrew Levy writes, "Virtually no surviving review of the book, and there are dozens, talks about the novel as if it were bringing anything new to the story of black and white in America" (154). The few references to the story’s exploration of racial reconciliation thought it funny. The Hartford Courant found "the struggle Huck has with his conscience over slavery" to be "most amusing." Apparently, Twain found Huck's worries comical, too and loved the ending that disappoints so many readers today. During a promotional tour, he called those passages "the biggest card I've got in my whole repertoire." All this is strong evidence, Levy argues, that we have deluded ourselves into considering the novel a heartwarming story of racial harmony--when in fact it is something much more complicated (Pell 8). Be that as it may, D. H. Lawrence warns in Studies in Classic American Literature to, "Never trust the artist. Trust the tale. The proper function of the critic is to save the tale from the artist who created it" (2). So, although Twain and his contemporaries may not have seen <i>Huckleberry Finn </i>for this aspect of its social commentary, generations of readers have placed the book alongside its contemporaries that purposefully address racial inequality, such as Harriet Beecher Stowe’s <i>Uncle Tom’s Cabin</i>.<br /><br />Whatever Twain’s aims may or may not have been, <i>Huckleberry Finn</i> remains one of the most influential American novels, whether considered YA or otherwise. It has left its stamp on countless hearts and minds and left a legacy that YA literature still capitalizes upon today. As much as the novel has its admirers, it is not without detractors who criticize everything from its language to its morals to its ending, but perhaps Twain said it best himself within the text of this immortal story, “That is just the way with some people. They get down on a thing when they don’t know nothing about it.” Whatever its strengths or weaknesses may be, Twain’s <i>Huckleberry Finn</i> will remain a cornerstone of American literature and Americana because “There was things which he stretched, but mainly he told the truth.”<br /><br />Works Cited:<br /><br /><ul><li>Anderson, Laurie Halse. <i>Speak</i>. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1999.</li><li>Anonymous. <i>Go Ask Alice</i>. Beatrice Sparks, Ed.. New York: Prentice Hall, 1971.</li><li>Alexie, Sherman. <i>The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian</i>. New York: Little, Brown and Company, 2007.</li><li>Brontë, Charlotte. <i>Jane Eyre</i>. London: Smith, Elder & Co., 1847.</li><li>Brontë, Emily. <i>Wuthering Heights</i>. London: Thomas Cautley Newby, 1847.</li><li>Collins, Suzanne. <i>The Hunger Games Trilogy</i>. New York: Scholastic, 2008-10.</li><li>Ernsberger, Richard,Jr. "Andrew Levy: Have we Misread Huckleberry Finn?" <i>American History</i> 04 2015: 26-8.</li><li>Hemingway, Earnest. <i>Green Hills of Africa</i>. New York: Charles Schribner’s Sons, 1935.</li><li>Hinton, S. E.. <i>The Outsiders</i>. New York: Viking Press, 1967.</li><li>Lawrence, D. H. <i>Studies in Classic American Literature</i>. New York: Viking, 1923. 2.</li><li>Lee, Harper. <i>To Kill a Mockingbird</i>. New York: J. B. Lippincott & Co., 1960.</li><li>Levy, Andrew. <i>Huck Finn’s America: Mark Twain and the Era That Shaped His Masterpiece</i>. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2014.</li><li>Montgomery, Lucy Maud. <i>Anne of Green Gables</i>. Boston: L.C. Page & Company, 1908.</li><li>Neville, Emily Cheney. <i>It’s Like This, Cat</i>. New York: Harper & Row, 1963.</li><li>Pell, Alan C. "REVIEW --- Books: A Masterpiece on its Maiden Voyage." <i>Wall Street Journal</i> Feb 21 2015, Eastern edition ed. C.8.</li><li>Stowe, Harriet Beecher. <i>Uncle Tom’s Cabin</i>. Public Doman, 1852.</li><li>Twain, Mark. <i>The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn</i>. Public Domain, 1885.</li><li>Zindel, Paul. <i>The Pigman</i>. New York: Harper Trophy, 1968.</li></ul>Terry Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12072061386395979977noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6665821763723637834.post-55974283629089656562016-06-13T18:24:00.001-07:002022-03-11T23:09:01.822-08:00On Being Remarkable<div class="zemanta-img" style="display: block; margin: 1em;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>I had called it “Kitsap Little Theater.” Our first production was a one-act play called <i>The Day After Forever</i>, and as the 17-year-old director and producer, I took the whole thing very seriously.<br /><br />It wasn’t my first theatrical endeavor. In the fifth grade, I got involved with a group of kids who had been rehearsing a student-penned play during recesses. When I gave them my "new and improved" version of their script, unsolicited mind you, I was instantly named the play's new director. That might have had something to do with the subsequent departure of the original play's authors/directors, but such a correlation has yet to be proven. Anyway, I was thrust into directorship at a tender age. How very Charlie Brown.<br /><br />The play made a favorable impression on school-assembly audiences. Ever the marketer/opportunist, I immediately attempted to launch a sequel. However, my follow-up piece, which had something to do with mice and Christmas, never made it on the boards. My later PTA-sponsored attempt at the Broadway musical <i>The Pajama Game</i> didn't make it on the boards either, the big failure of my adolescent life. Of course, in retrospect I know dealing with my own adolescent turmoil along with a cast comprised solely of adolescents, <strike>might </strike>would have been too much for anyone, but because of that failure, I approached my later theatrical endeavors as a young man with something to prove.<br /><br />Originally I had intended my fledgling Kitsap Little Theater to produce the play <i>Arsenic and Old Lace</i>, but only three people auditioned. I told the auditionees I was the production's stage manager. These were experienced community theater folk, and I was afraid they might balk at a teenage producer/director. I don’t know how I expected to make the “real” director materialize, especially since I had already given her a name and identity, but since we never made it into rehearsals I was spared the trouble.<br /><br />Instead of facing defeat, I rounded up a few very loyal friends from my <i>Pajama Game</i> debacle and settled on producing one of those more "intimate" small cast shows. One of the community theater women from the previous audition actually stuck around and played a role. I don’t know if she believed my story about the “real” director, whom I claimed had quit the whole affair because of a low turnout at auditions, or if she actually stayed around because she wanted to support my effort. Looking back, I suspect the latter.<br /><br />Actually, a second community theater woman initially stuck around too, for a few rehearsals anyway, before coming up with some excuse to bow out. Because of that, along with my "show must go on" attitude, <i>The Day After Forever</i> presented my first experience playing a role in drag. That is another story entirely and not one I like to talk about, but I was able to make lemonade out of those lemons a few years later when I got to play the cross-dressing Francis Flute in <i>A Midsummer Night’s Dream</i>.<br /><br />I’m not sure why I decided to use the words “little theater” in the name of the group other than because there were a few theater groups I had read about and admired with similar names. But to me at the time, it was always about the dream of a theater group, a little theater, and never about the fact most of us in the group were . . . little.<br /><br />Looking back now, I realize I missed the real marketing opportunity. The very thing I worked so hard to downplay was also the very thing that made the entire theatrical venture so remarkable. How many teenagers would post audition notices and hold auditions, find a place to rehearse, gather a cast, rent an auditorium and advertise the production with zero budget (not counting those old Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney movies)? If I had known how remarkable a thing that really was and understood the true implications behind the name Kitsap Little Theater, perhaps more than a half dozen people would have witnessed our two or three performances.<br /><br />Ralph Waldo Emerson said:<br /><blockquote>Don’t say things. What you are stands over you the while, and thunders so that I cannot hear what you say to the contrary. (Social Aims, 1876)</blockquote>Sometimes the things which make us truly remarkable may be obvious to everyone but ourselves.<img alt="" height="1" src="" width="1" />Terry Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12072061386395979977noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6665821763723637834.post-28771578869302786912011-07-06T01:32:00.001-07:002022-03-11T23:08:30.596-08:00When Six Blind Men Read Your NovelAn old tale from India tells of six blind men who viewed an elephant. One of the blind men concludes that the elephant is like a wall. Another believes the elephant is like a snake. The others perceive it as a spear, a tree, a fan or a rope. Each blind man forms his own idea of what the elephant is like, depending upon where he touches it.<br /><br />One the most famous versions of this story is the poem "The <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blind_men_and_an_elephant" rel="wikipedia" title="Blind men and an elephant">Blind Men and the Elephant</a>" by John Godfrey Saxe (1816–1887). His poem concludes:<br /><blockquote>And so these men of Hindustan<br />Disputed loud and long,<br />Each in his own opinion<br />Exceeding stiff and strong,<br />Though each was partly in the right<br />And all were in the wrong.</blockquote>Not to say readers are blind, but when we read, our perceptions can be like those of the blind men. When we write, we may hope we are leading our readers down a particular path, but their individual ideas, temperaments, and other preconceived ideas scatter readers onto different roads.<br /><br />As an example, look at six schools of thought about literary criticism and how each of them might view a particular elephant. Our elephant in this example will be F. Scott Fitzgerald's <em>The Great Gatsby</em>. The elephant remains the same, but the interpretations differ with each view.<br /><h3>A Psychoanalytic Criticism</h3>Psychoanalytic criticism believes we are each born with a clean slate, and soon that slate is cluttered with images. Even before we have words to label them, we begin working to sort this clutter and make sense of the world around us. If a thing is suitable we keep it or forget it, but if a thing causes us pain, shame, or any number of negative responses, instead of forgetting it we repress it into our subconscious where it festers and poisons our waking thoughts and actions. As Nick, our narrator in <em>The Great Gatsby</em>, says to close the novel, “So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”<br /><br />Much of our conscious present is made of dealing with the suppressed and unconscious images of our past. In life this battle with the past can feel like we’re paddling upstream, and in Fitzgerald’s <em>The Great Gatsby</em> each character fights the current in his or her own unique manner. Jay Gatsby, subject of the book’s title, was “borne back ceaselessly into the past” by fighting the repression associated with that past. Having been raised in a lower class family, he spent his adulthood attempting to establish himself among the “upper” classes. However, his true desires may not have been purely social or economic.<br /><br />In our pre-verbal period of infancy we experience a life of fantasy, an illusion, but it is shattered when we find things around us have an order and we begin to realize our place within that order. We learn our mother is separate from us and does not feel what we feel. We cannot control her with our minds and she does not feel pain when we inflict it upon ourselves. Further, we find she does not belong to us but in fact belongs to our father. We may spend the rest of our lives trying to replace the hole this leaves in our gut. Gatsby believed he could fill the void by aspiring to win the love of Daisy. She was of another world than ours, yet something which seemed to remind us of the illusions of our infancy. A relationship with Daisy could restore that feeling of complete intimacy we once thought we shared with our mothers. But just as our idea of that relationship with our mother was a fallacy, so is the idea we can be “one” with the woman we believe will replace her.<br /><br />Daisy herself dealt with her own issues regarding the replacement of that illusory world with a concrete, verbal reality. But in her disappointment she adopted the protective shield of distance from others; she became unwilling to experience intimacy in her current life as a reaction to the painful loss of a perceived intimacy from her infant hood. Instead of allowing herself to draw close to Gatsby, she felt, possibly on a subconscious level, that he wanted too much of her. She perceived his desire for intimacy, and although his desire may have been rooted in the same place as her own needs and desires, her reaction was exactly the opposite.<br /><br />In Nick's closing lines, Fitzgerald summarizes a theme we revisited often within the novel. We press on, and we may feel as though we are swimming upstream. We never get what we want, even if we don’t truly know what it is we desire. We dip the oars into the water hoping they will drive us into the future, but the very act of dipping in means we dredge up the past. However, if like Gatsby we try to reach for the green light across the bay, we are still forced to face the darkness inside us, even if that darkness is beyond our reach as well.<br /><h3>A Marxist Critique</h3>When we feel we have nothing out of the ordinary, when everything we have is viewed in our society as a commodity, we raise the bar of our expectations and want something more. But even then, it isn’t enough to merely have it. We want to have it and rub it in the face of those around us at the same time. We buy our furs, our fancy cars, and our large houses telling ourselves it is because we need them, they are a commodity, but in reality it is all for show. Fitzgerald approached this idea of conspicuous consumption in his novel <em>The Great Gatsby</em>; it wasn’t enough to live in the richest part of the richest city in the richest country of the entire world, but his characters had to “look” the part as well.<br /><br />But anytime the bar is raised and our expectations progress, any attempt to lower the bar, or even leave it the same, is generally viewed as regression. These are not our innate feelings, but they are what we learn. We learn if we are better dressed, drive better cars, and live in better houses, we are better too. The problem is, who has decided what is “better”? An author who wishes to criticize capitalism merely needs to paint a capitalistic society in this light. Something deeper flows within our veins than the norms our culture has placed upon us, and it can be stirred if we see blatant greed and self-centered behavior in others.<br /><br />In spite of what our culture has taught us about our rights to consume, we also believe there are limits, even if it takes some time to recall that belief. So when we see the characters in Gatsby with their conspicuous consumption we know they are wrong in being that way. Unfortunately, it probably takes an example this extreme to make the point. If we were to face a more subtle example, possibly the greed of people in the middle or lower socioeconomic classes, it might go unnoticed. Because of the way we have been trained, we often view the efforts of our middle and lower classes to “better” themselves as noble. We say they are hardworking and God fearing individuals if they aspire toward wealth and rampant consumerism. If a novel were to suggest these hardworking souls were less than ideal, it would probably be rejected, possibly dismissed as communist propaganda.<br /><br />That said, Fitzgerald set up the perfect setting and story to convey the conspicuous consumption of our modern era. Perhaps it is clouded in our judgment because we would rather call it a love story. The case against capitalism might have been more powerful if it had been set among those of our middle and lower classes. It might have been a more probing treatment. But at the same time, it might have hit a little too close to home for the majority of his readers, and Fitzgerald did the best he could to paint a picture of our society’s excesses. But in keeping the issue at arms length, he may have kept its understanding at a similar distance.<br /><h3>Reader Response Criticism</h3>Although the Jazz Age in America came on the scene with a bit of a strut in its stride, taking bold steps forward into a whole new era, the same bold steps brought an air of uncertainty; new territory, previously uncharted, could bring its own dangers. Fitzgerald echoed that underlying fear, either consciously or unconsciously, creating an air of indeterminacy which left the potential result open for interpretation.<br /><br />Just as indeterminacy leaves gaps in the text, or possibly the discovery of these gaps is what fosters the uncertain feelings, the era of Fitzgerald’s novel was a time where gaps were par for the course. Where were relationships headed, and what would happen to our old family values? What would happen when the idle poor became the idle rich and fortunes could be made with a few telephone calls? The very foundation of American society seemed up for debate. In a time where the buzz word meant freedom, where would the journey take us and what would we leave behind?<br /><br /><em>The Great Gatsby</em> promises a story of riches and intrigue. Who is this Jay Gatsby and where did he come from? Soon we begin to expect a love story. Will Daisy fling off the oppressive life she has chosen and return to the arms of her one true love? These are stories we are comfortable with, stories that lead us where we expect to be lead. But soon an uneasiness begins to shadow the rest of the story. We begin to wonder who is good and who isn’t. If their story is to be so simple, why are these characters so complex? Are things going to turn out the way we expect in the end.<br /><br />One image of indeterminacy, or where things are left open to our interpretation, is the dusty part of town called home by Tom Buchanan mistress, Myrtle. The place is covered in gray dust, and underneath that dust is a complex triangle between Myrtle, her husband George, and Tom. We wonder what the dust means. Is it some oppressive layer Myrtle will fling off in the raptures of her affair with Tom? Or is it the dust that settles on something that’s already dead, like the layer of gray dust in an old abandoned house or ghost town? Does the layer of dust foreshadow its throwing off, or does it foreshadow the approaching death and the abandonment of dreams to follow?<br /><br />Early in the novel, Jay Gatsby holds one of his large parties with what seems like hundreds of guests, largely uninvited. It is a banquet, much like we often call life a banquet. But nobody really seems to know what it’s all about or why they are there, or even who the host really might be. Many at the party drink too much, laugh too loud, and care about the entire thing a bit too little. When the party disbands one of the drivers lose a wheel and a big fuss is created until the entire incident is laughed off as some form of a joke. When we see where Fitzgerald ultimately leads his characters by the end of the story, it’s easy to wonder if this party scene isn’t a parallel to the world and life. Is the whole thing a big party where we take things for granted and ultimately laugh the whole thing off as a joke? Are we uninvited guests at a party where nobody really knows the host? Is Gatsby God?<br /><br />Indeterminacy isn’t the “what” of the story’s events, it may not even be the “why”. When thinking of indeterminacy in the context of Reader Response Criticism, it could be thought of as one of the many possible meanings of the text. But when introduced into a novel as full of contradictions and unanswered questions as Fitzgerald’s <em>The Great Gatsby</em>, indeterminacy becomes the element which makes this story echo real life. We are left to wonder not only what the text could have meant, but what life itself is all about.<br /><h3>A Feminist Critique</h3>Even if they disagree about other issues, all feminists believe patriarchal ideology works to keep men and women confined to traditional gender roles so male dominance may be maintained. Utilizing the precepts of Feminist criticism, it could be argued <em>The Great Gatsby</em> promotes a thinly veiled patriarchal agenda. Through Fitzgerald’s treatment of the three main women, as well as masking the possible homosexuality of a central character, the novel seems to promote only the traditional gender roles, swaying uncomfortably from any possible variance. This hidden agenda may be uncovered using common tools of Feminist criticism, primarily through the use of psychoanalytic theory, but with elements of Marxist theory and deconstructionism as well.<br /><br />Psychologically, Daisy, Jordan, and Myrtle are obviously quite different from each other. In fact, it could be said they are like three corners of a triangle, supporting each others’ role in the story but entirely separate at the same time. Daisy is portrayed as a classic beauty who uses an innate sex appeal to gather some amount of control over her surroundings. As an athlete Jordan might carry the greatest potential to stray from a typical gender role. She could easily have been characterized as a lesbian because of her detachment from men, her self-centered lifestyle, and her unexplained connection to Daisy. Myrtle seems to be a more earthy woman, possibly possessing a raw sexual energy, but Fitzgerald stops short of portraying her as an independent, sexual being, empowered to pursue her own sexual experiences. In many respects these characters could have been deeper had Fitzgerald felt free to expound upon these possibilities. It seems the story would only have been enriched if he had explored these women deeper. However, the fact that Fitzgerald was not willing to fill out these women to their potential could indicate a desire, either of his own or one he felt society had placed upon him, to keep them within the expected stereotypes of their gender.<br /><br />A similar opportunity showed itself within the characterization of Fitzgerald's narrator, Nick. Nick’s reluctance to enter into a relationship with Jordan was not sufficiently justified by the ol’ “girl back home” routine. No attempt at all was made to explain why Nick found himself at the bedside of an effeminate man, who was in his underwear. Nor did Fitzgerald explore Nick’s admiration for Gatsby on what seemed to be a more physical basis than of friendship. Nick made frequent schoolgirl-like references to Gatsby, but there didn’t seem to be much reason for a friendship. Gatsby’s motivation was clearly to make contact with Daisy, but why did Nick want to be close to Gatsby? These issues could have easily led to some discussion or admittance that Nick might have been gay or at least questioning his gender role. But the author’s unwillingness to breach these subjects seems to indicate he had made himself subject to the established patriarchy. By not saying anything against it, Fitzgerald inadvertently spoke in favor of the established order.<br /><br />From a purely economic standpoint, the patriarchal agenda is evident in how all three of the major female characters are dependent to varied degrees upon the men in their lives. Even Jordan has some need for a man. Daisy and Myrtle are more obviously and traditionally dependent. The patriarchal agenda is also supported in the way men do “business” and women sit around and gossip. Even Nick, who in some ways is portrayed in a traditionally feminine role because of his financial dependence upon his family, is given a nice "man's" job in the stock market to remove any anti-patriarchal doubts. Simultaneously, a deconstructionistic dichotomy exists within the novel; the characters live in the decadent and supposedly "free" Jazz age, but at the same time seem unwilling or unable to free themselves from the patriarchal elements of society.<br /><br />Overall, a Feminist criticism of this novel allows the reader to understand how subtle and pervasive the patriarchal influences are within our society. Through the questions Feminists ask of the text we are able to see a possibility for deeper characterization and a more enriched human experience without the shackles of patriarchal tyranny.<br /><h3>A New Criticism View</h3>In another age, traveling medicine shows would tout their amazing stars as “The Great” or “The Invincible”. We learned to expect feats of magic and miracle from these men, even if beneath it all we knew they were charlatans. Fitzgerald used this bit of the pop psyche in the title of <em>The Great Gatsby</em>, and as we might expect he delivered a character strikingly similar to these miracle men of old. However, many people believed in these charlatans, even if they wouldn't say so in public. Their tricks tapped into our desire for magic and wonder; they were men of fantasy and intrigue. In naming his novel, Fitzgerald stirred the complex reaction America had to all the Great and Invincible of our history, tapping into a rich spring of paradox, irony, ambiguity, and tension.<br /><br />Fitzgerald drove the reader into his novel with the question of Gatsby’s greatness. We wondered who this man might be. We come with a prejudice from the title, then Fitzgerald further guides us to accept Gatsby’s greatness by showing us his wealth. He has such wealth we are willing to accept the man must be great as well. But an ambiguity exists at the same time; nobody knows where this man came from, where his wealth originated, or indeed what makes him so great. But we believe it just the same. Here we have a man who has wealth and seems willing to share it. He seems well mannered and genteel, yet he reaches down from his pedestal and befriends our narrator, Nick. It seems somewhat a paradox, but real life is full of such opposites that the story only seems more real because of it. Because the paradox seems so real we believe the story, and because we believe the story we commit even deeper to believing the story’s title; the man must indeed be great.<br /><br />But Fitzgerald also introduces a tension, possibly springing from the sense of ambiguity. As a reader we want to know where Gatsby came from, why he is wealthy, but we are afraid we won’t like the answer. Fitzgerald strings us along then plants little seeds of doubt, and we begin to worry. What if Gatsby is a bootlegger or a gambler, would we be able to reconcile the belief we have already adopted that he is indeed great? We need him to be great, because we already believe he is. Eventually, however, we come to realize Gatsby was not born to greatness nor did he really aspire toward it. Even his schooling is questionable. He does not have any of the sure signs of greatness we have come to expect, yet we realize there is still something great about him. It might simply be that we want to justify the decision we’ve already made about him. We need him to be great because we’ve already made up our minds that he is, but this brings a certain irony into play because we have committed to his greatness even though he isn't great by the definition we originally would have given the word.<br /><br />Again, it is like the charlatan who made us believe in snake oil. When the snake oil doesn’t cure baldness or make your hiccups go away, we tell ourselves “The Great and Powerful” charlatan was a great entertainer. He is still great, just not in the way we originally expected him to be. Fitzgerald first made us believe Gatsby was great, then left us to justify the reasoning in spite of the evidence. But that is just like real life.<br /><h3>The Theory of Myths</h3>Northrop Frye’s “theory of myths” refers to a system of patterns which mankind has used to realize the narratives of his stories and literature. Frye asserts human beings realize basic narrative in two fundamental ways; representations of the real world and representations of an ideal or fantasy world. Frye calls the two fundamental narratives the “mythos of summer” and the “mythos of winter”. Summer is a time of heroes and adventure, and winter is a time where life’s complexities are faced. But in spite of the convenience a system could afford our attempts to categorize the written works of mankind, real life isn't always so easily defined. It would follow naturally then, literature which reflects life in its fullness might not fit neatly within Frye’s two basic theoretical categories. Great literature echoes real life in its tendency to defy simplified explanation. So because Frye realized life’s tendency to travel between times of summer and winter, he also introduced two times of transition: “the mythos of autumn” and “the mythos of spring”.<br /><br /><em>The Great Gatsby</em> is one example of a piece of literature which spans Frye’s primary narrative patterns, leading us from the romance and fantasy of summer to the reality and complexity of winter. <em>Gatsby </em>opens with all the optimism and boldness of its Age. We meet a young man named Nick who faces a life full of prospects, and we join him on his journey to the East Egg, a less fashionable part of New York’s fashionable Long Island. Nick has an interesting new neighbor, a man by the name of Gatsby, who is bathed in wealth and intrigue. Here we have all the makings of what Frye would call a romance. Gatsby holds extravagant parties where all the beautiful people attend; everything reeks of the romance of Camelot and King Arthur’s court. It is Frye’s summer, a world of adventure with beautiful women, idyll days, and romantic evenings.<br /><br />But <em>Gatsby</em> doesn’t remain in summer forever. Although the novel opens with all the optimism of its age, before the final page it transitions into a novel of irony and complexity. Because this is the final message of <em>Gatsby</em>, it could be argued the mythos of winter overshadows that of summer in this story. We close the book with only a feint memory of Nick and Gatsby’s days of summer, and from our new and jaded viewpoint we regard those times as days of innocence and possibly naivety. We have seen how the flaws of man can lead us to the feeling we are swimming upstream, and Fitzgerald’s final lines bring this point home: “So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”<br /><br />Frye called the narrative pattern which transitions from summer to winter “the mythos of autumn”. This is a structure which moves us from a time of innocence to experience. We move from the ideal world to the real world. Likewise, Frye calls the movement from real to ideal, or experience to innocence, "the mythos of spring". He recognized conflict is the basis of romance, where superheroes face obstacles, but observed catastrophe is the basis of tragedy. While <em>The Great Gatsby</em> seems at first blush to be a story where a superhero faces the simple obstacles between him and his love, in the end and the catastrophe which develops along the way we realize the story of Gatsby is one of tragedy. Gatsby’s quest has ended in death, and Nick has taken a step down the road of experience.<br /><br />Again, much like real life, it would be an oversimplification to label the time period covered in this novel as the time when our narrator Nick lost his naive and innocent view of the world. It would also be too easy to call it the story of the great Jay Gatsby’s fall from greatness. Life is not so simple. It is full of ambiguity, and transitions don’t always move neatly in one direction or another. For the purpose of a tidy story we might limit a piece to one period, one myth, or one time of transition. But real life isn’t so tidy, and part of the greatness of Fitzgerald’s <em>Gatsby</em> is how it reminds us of the ebb and flow of such things in life.<br /><h3>Conclusion</h3>In John Gardner's immortal <em>The Art of Fiction</em>, he talks about leading readers through a fictional dream. It is our job to facilitate the fictional dream and avoid doing anything to interrupt it. We weave a dream and hope our readers find themselves lost in it. But it is interesting to note we cannot control that fictional dream; readers will have dreams of their own.<br /><div class="zemanta-pixie" style="height: 15px; margin-top: 10px;"><img alt="" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=62ad9b0a-6254-49ff-a6c3-8a68933de405" style="border: none; float: right;" /></div>Terry Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12072061386395979977noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6665821763723637834.post-69055158464589400262011-06-28T23:47:00.000-07:002022-03-11T23:05:28.268-08:00Satire in the English Renaissance PastoralPastoral literature from the English Renaissance may remind today's reader more of fairy tales and fables than pieces of great literature. Examples from this period could be relegated to the world of kitsch alongside porcelain shepherd and shepherdess salt and pepper shakers or the mediocre oil paintings of impossibly idealized bucolic country sides, second cousins to oil-on-velvet paintings of sad clowns and Elvis Presley. At first glance, the pastoral's ruffle-clad shepherdesses and pan-flute-playing shepherds generally fail to garner much literary respect or stir much interest; however, "first glance" may not be a worthy inspection of this particular genre. These seemingly quaint fables may not be what they first seem; the very fact that pastorals occupied some of the greatest poetic minds of the English Renaissance could imply the form at one time spoke to something deeper and more substantial than a pan flute, courtly shepherd, or velvet Elvis ever could.<br /><br />The English Renaissance pastoral might be better understood within the context of rich literary traditions that preceded it since, in the real world, a literary genre never springs forth fully developed like Venus in the half shell. The development of a literary genre requires the complex process of evolution, with each step in that evolution entirely dependent upon what has come before. To remove a genre such as English Renaissance Pastoral from its place within the context of history compromises our ability to understand that genre and its manifestation at any particular stage of its development.<br /><br />Current literary scholarship routinely attaches the English Renaissance pastoral to its ancient roots, a rebirth of the genre brought about by the influential Renaissance humanism movement. One central feature of the Renaissance humanism movement was a commitment to study the primary sources of the best writing from ancient Greece and Rome. This commitment was summarized in the Renaissance humanists' motto "ad fontes," which means "to the sources." Renaissance humanists glorified the ancient civilizations and sought to both imitate and reincarnate the ideals of ancient literature. With this commitment, Renaissance Pastoral emerged as a direct descendant of works by the Greek writer Theocritus, who may have, in turn, drawn on authentic folk traditions of Sicilian shepherds.<br /><br />Theocritus' bucolic poetry represented the life of Sicilian shepherds living in an idealized natural setting reminiscent of the Golden age of Greek mythology, the highest in the Greek spectrum of Iron, Bronze, Silver, and Golden ages. Theocritus' shepherds lived in a time of peace and stability. He wrote in the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mid_Northern_Scots" rel="wikipedia" title="Mid Northern Scots">Doric dialect</a> but in dactylic hexameter, which had previously been associated with the Greek's most prestigious poetic form, epic poetry. This melding of simplicity and sophistication would later play a major role in the history of pastoral verse in the hands of Renaissance writers. The devices of these early pastorals were later adopted by the Roman poet <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.last.fm/music/Publius%2BVergilius%2BMaro" rel="lastfm" title="Publius Vergilius Maro">Virgil</a>, who adapted the genre into Latin with his Eclogues.<br /><br />Virgil wrote about a more idyllic vision of rural life than Theocritus had done and was the first to set his poems in Arcadia. Arcadia, although an actual location, became highly idealized within the realms of literature and developed into the most popular location for ancient pastorals. Virgil presented a rural life more idyllic than what Theocritus had given; a distinction which gave the pastoral a foothold in the world of fantasy and opened the door to the use of allegory. He implemented the practice of exploiting the pastoral form to make clandestine insinuations about contemporary problems. Virgil's Eclogues contained a blend of visionary politics and eroticism, and his work was met with popular success in the Roman theatre, catapulting Virgil into fame and establishing him as a celebrity and a legend among his contemporaries.<br /><br />In its simplest form, a pastoral represents a shepherd's life in a conventionalized manner. However, the Renaissance pastoral model was more involved than that. Its features included:<br /><ol><li>A fantastical world where the constraints of geography, nature, gender and time may become irrelevant and subverted.</li><li>Exiles from urban life who are outsiders from the Pastoral situation form the focus of the Pastoral Romance. Shepherds are not the primary focus.</li><li>When the exiles arrive in the countryside, they converse with the shepherds.</li><li>The urban characters often disguise themselves as country folk or shepherds.</li><li>Advantages and disadvantages of court and country are discussed; differences between the natural and the artificial are fundamental to the genre.</li><li>Pastoral Romances include songs, masques and disguises.</li><li>The Pastoral Romance celebrates rural simplicity, but in a highly stylized and artificial manner.</li><li>Discussion and examination between the concepts of nature and nurture are present throughout the Pastoral genre.</li><li>Pastoral figures are used to examine the evils of greed, cruelty, deceit, corruption and bribery through actions or discourse.</li><li>By the culmination of the play, the exiles are reintegrated into the urban life and order has been restored.</li><li>By providing an artificial realm through the imaginary forest and Shepherds, the Pastoral Romance provides its characters with an opportunity to see more clearly and therefore gives them the opportunity and freedom to change.</li></ol>William Shakespeare made frequent use of the Pastoral, both through brief examples within works such as <em><a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.amazon.com/Loves-Labors-Shakespeare-Signet-Classic/dp/0451519922%3FSubscriptionId%3D0G81C5DAZ03ZR9WH9X82%26tag%3Dzem-20%26linkCode%3Dxm2%26camp%3D2025%26creative%3D165953%26creativeASIN%3D0451519922" rel="amazon" title="Love's Labor's Lost (Shakespeare, Signet Classic)">Love's Labor's Lost</a></em> ("When icicles hang by the wall") and the Shearer's feast in <em>The Winter's Tale</em> or sustained examples like the play <em><a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/As_You_Like_It" rel="wikipedia" title="As You Like It">As You Like It</a></em>. Other plays by Shakespeare contain individual pastoral scenes, such as the bandits in <em>The Two Gentlemen of Verona</em>. The Pastoral influence is also found within <em>A Midsummer's Nights Dream</em> and <em>The Tempest</em>.<br /><br />Shakespeare drew from classic pastoral literature for the subject matter in <em>As You Like It</em>, specifically Lodge's pastoral romance, <em>Rosalynde</em>. Lodge's 1590 novel had adapted "The Tale of Gamelyn," a narrative poem from the 14th Century. Shakespeare's version gave characters greater depth than Lodge; he introduced humor into the story, and created new characters such as Jacques, Touchstone, William and Audrey.<br /><br />The play's Phebe and Silvius appeared in Lodge's novel, but are stock pastoral figures as well. Within the classical pastoral, conventional shepherds and shepherdesses had occurred in pairs with names like Phoebe and Silvius or the alternate Phoebus and Silvia. In these traditional roles, the shepherd is lovelorn while the shepherdess is disdainful. The lovelorn shepherd laments the loss or disdain of his lady, either in solo lyric or eclogue (a dialogue between shepherds about the simple life). In <em>As You Like It</em>, Silvius complains to Corin about his love's rejection and the lovelorn Orlando hangs lyrics about his own love from all the tree branches. Again true to the classic pastoral form, Phebe supplies the customary elegy for a dead shepherd by quoting Marlowe:<br /><blockquote>Dead shepherd, now I find thy saw of might,<br />"Who ever lov'd that lov'd not at first sight?"</blockquote>As may be expected, Shakespeare was not content to merely use the Pastoral in his works but his contribution further developed the genre. <em>As You Like It</em> utilizes many of the thematic and dramatic requirements of the Pastoral:<br /><ol><li>Corruption of family and court forces several characters into exile and the Forest of Arden, thereby creating a platform where questions of nature, nurture and nobility may be raised.</li><li>Cross-gender disguise is employed and allows Rosalind to freely discuss love and relationships with Orlando.</li><li><em>As You Like It</em> contains more songs than any of Shakespeare's other plays.</li><li>The play features a wedding masque with the god of marriage, Hymen. Supernatural elements were important to the Pastoral genre.</li><li>Social (and gender) order is restored at the end. Duke Senior resumes his place at Court and the brothers Orlando and Oliver reunite. Rosalind casts off her male alter-ego (Ganymede) as well as the freedom of speech which accompanied that role.</li></ol>For all its merit as an example of the Pastoral genre, the interpretation of <em>As You Like It</em> is not without problems. While some scholars have rated the play among Shakespeare's best, others do not see it as an equal within the Shakespearean canon. Critic such as Samuel Johnson and George Bernard Shaw did not believe <em>As You Like It</em> was a good example of Shakespeare's high artistry. Several scenes in<em> As You Like It</em> are essentially skits made up of songs and joking banter. Accenting the "You" in the title, Shaw theorized the play may have been written as a mere crowd pleaser, but one which did not particularly please Shaw. Even Leo Tolstoy remarked about the characters' immorality and took issue with Touchstone's constant clowning. On the other hand, American literary critic Harold Bloom believed Rosalind was one of Shakespeare's greatest and most fully realized female characters.<br /><br /><em>As You Like It</em>, although neglected in performance for more than a century after Shakespeare's death in 1616, has been a popular play on the stage ever since. It was revived in England for the first time in 1723 in an adaptation called Love in a Forest. This version of the play interpolated passages from other Shakespearean dramas and comedies, notably <em>A Midsummer Night's Dream</em>. Shakespeare's original was restored to the theater seventeen years later. In the 19th century <em>As You Like It</em> was staged by a number of eminent English actor-managers including Charles Kean and William Charles Macready. In late nineteenth century America, especially, the play became a favorite with audiences. Rosalind found noteworthy interpreters in Helena Modjeska, Mary Anderson, Ada Rehan, and Julia Marlowe.<br /><br />But perhaps Shaw's observation about the play's title does provide insight and Shakespeare's play is a commentary on the theatrical tastes of Elizabethan England. For all its Pastoral elements <em>As You Like It</em> does not strictly adhere to conventions of the genre, but in fact appears to satirize them. The Forest of Arden is a place where Dukes have been usurped, brothers are deadly enemies, starvation, lions and deadly snakes lurk. For all the idyllic Pastoral qualities, Arden marries fantasy with a harsh reality. As a departure from the pastoral form, in <em>As You Like It</em> Shakespeare tempers the idyll of the sweetly picturesque pastoral scene with the adversity of the malcontented Jacques, as well as the unlikely pairing of Touchstone and Audrey, ensuring neither court life nor pastoral idyll is presented as either too sweet or too adverse. The play provides opportunities for its main characters to discuss love, aging, the natural world, and death from their particular points of view. It presents us with the worldviews of a chronically melancholy pessimist preoccupied with the negative aspects of life (Jacques), and Rosalind, who recognizes life's difficulties but holds fast to a positive attitude that is kind, playful, and above all, wise. Whatever Shakespeare's intent may have been for <em>As You Like It</em>, its composition does mark a turning point in his output as a playwright since; Shakespeare abandoned comedy soon after its completion and turned to the composition of his major tragedies.<br /><br />So although current scholarship routinely attaches Renaissance Pastoral Literature to its ancient roots, and these connections are certainly valid, they stop short of realizing the influence of literature between the classical period and the European Renaissance. While it is evident Virgil introduced political allegory into his tales, this might not directly explain all the the techniques employed by Renaissance writers. To understand the English Renaissance pastoral it seems important to attach this genre to the body of literature immediately preceding it. Without this important link in the genre's evolution, we are apt to overlook its most important influences, and our interpretation of works within this genre will not reflect their possible deeper meanings and purposes.<br /><br />Before the pastoral gained widespread popularity, satire had already been established as a staple of Medieval English Literature. If we give Renaissance Pastoral its proper place in the history and evolution of literature, the genre may seem less an enigma, relegated to that world of kitsch, and more a continuation of the rich satirical tradition of Medieval and Early Renaissance writers such as Geoffrey Chaucer, Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra and Thomas More. Ignoring the satire's popularity in Medieval and Early Renaissance Europe may cause us to forget how the stage had been set when the pastoral rose to popularity in the 16th century. When viewed as a continuation of the satirical tradition, Renaissance Pastoral may be greater appreciated, and its sense of wit, style, and daring may come into clearer focus.<br /><br />Satirical poetry is believed to have been popular in Chaucer's time although little has survived. Examples of such poetry may still be seen in the bawdy lyrics of <em>Carmina Burnana</em>, set to music by Carl Orf in the 20th Century. <em>The Canterbury Tales</em> served as Chaucer's platform to satire the blind religion and thoughtless bigotry of his day.<br /><br />Chaucer created "The Prioress' Tale" to satire the blind religion and thoughtless bigotry of his day. Chaucer lived in a time when religious stories thrived among a largely illiterate population. These stories were Saint's tales where the villains were impossibly bad and the heroes impossibly good. The line between "good" and "bad" people was drawn by their religious beliefs; anyone who believed in the Christian church was good, and everyone else in the world was bad.<br /><br />Knowing nothing else of him, we can deduce from the rest of <em>The Canterbury Tales</em> that Chaucer is a talented writer, skilled in both subtlety of character and storytelling. So why would his Prioress tell a story so obviously shallow, improbable, and bigoted unless Chaucer labored behind some hidden agenda? Judging from his other stories, Chaucer doesn't seem squeamish about poking fun at hypocrisy in religion; he points to gullibility in religious devotion through "The Miller's Tale" as well as through those who purchase the Pardoner's "relics" in "The Pardoner's Tale." Further, history tells us Chaucer was part of a group of intellectuals who opposed the prevalent anti-Semitism of his time; in reality he would have been against characterizing Jews as "Satan's Hornet Nest".<br /><br />Thomas More criticized the religious and political views of his contemporaries by obscuring his true intentions through the use of satire in <em>Utopia </em>(1516). Modern readers have come to understand a "utopia" as a paradise, a world built on higher ideals where the lamb lays down with the lion. As such, it would be natural to assume that in this book More had explained his designs for a more perfect world, with his own religious, political, and moral beliefs fulfilled. But in fact, the word "utopia" (which was coined by More himself from Latin) would be literally translated as "no place". By calling his dreamland "Utopia" More is betraying his story, showing it is a made up tale; he is literally calling it a place which does not and presumably cannot, exist. He further betrays his true view by the names he assigns to various characters and places within the story.<br /><br />Thomas More wrote <em>Utopia </em>as a satire on his contemporaries' religious and political thoughts. The positive light given to religious, political and philosophical ideas diametrically opposed to those of the author, the presence of ridiculous wordplay in the names, titles and locations within the piece, and the pseudo Renaissance-humanist air given by setting the work in Latin, all reveal More's satiric intent.<br /><br />The implied benefits of divorce, euthanasia, married priests, and women priests, expressed in <em>Utopia</em>, disagreed with More's celebrated dedication to devout Catholicism. More was a persecutor of heretics (Protestants) yet the book extolled the virtues of embracing varied religions, and even under the same roof. The piece engaged in political criticism, but More himself was Lord Chancellor, an influential English lawyer. Communism and the idea of communal living expressed as an ideal in Utopia could be seen as the opposite view expected from a rich landowner such as More.<br /><br />Because Renaissance humanist movement, which glorified the ancient civilizations, had already established an influence during his time it seems possible More could have been tipping his hat to them by setting his work in Latin and telling of an ancient idyllic civilization built on "superior" ideals. If this was More's intent, and if the tale of a perfect communal society was a reference to New World legend (although in reality Amerigo Vespucci's Incas practiced cannibalism), then this would be further proof that More viewed Utopia to be seen as a satirical work.<br /><br />In <em>Arte of English Poesie,</em> George Puttenham argues the pastoral is a literary form especially designed:<br /><blockquote>Not of purpose to counterfait or represent the rusticall manner of loves and communication: but under the vaile of homely persons, and in rude speeches to insinuate and glaunce at greater matters, and such as perchance had not bene safe to have beene disclosed in any other sort.</blockquote>In <em>The Making of a Poem</em>, Strand and Boland note how the pastoral spoke to poets of the Renaissance period and their "deep European unease about power, urbanization, and the demands made for a new centralization," citing the pastoral as "one of the true intellectual engines of [Elizabethan] poetry".<br /><br />First in Latin with the work of Petrarch, Pontano, and Mantuan, and then in Italian vernacular with the works of Boiardo, Italian poets led the way in a 14th Century revival of pastoral form. The pastoral became fashionable throughout Renaissance Europe. Because of the satire's popularity in England during Medieval and Early Renaissance times the pastoral's appearance there may have simply represented a new incarnation of the satire. In 1579 Virgil's Eclogues inspired Edmund Spenser's <em>The Shepheardes Calendar</em> (a series of twelve eclogues, one for each calendar month) and ushered the pastoral form further into fashion, but Spenser's creation was more than just a collection of colloquialisms. A study by Robert Lane interprets <em>The Shepheardes Calendar</em> as criticism of the Elizabethan hierarchy and how society exploited and neglected society's underprivileged. According to Lane, <em>The Shepheardes Calendar</em> undermines the courtly role assigned to Elizabethan poetry and capitalized on such pop culture mainstays as woodcuts, proverbs, fables and the calendar format to further drive its point home.<br /><br />Understanding the connection between the English Renaissance pastoral and the satirical literature which preceded it, it is easier to see how William Shakespeare used the pastoral form to explore the realms of political and social commentary. Shakespeare frequently exploited poetic form and theatrical convention to provide a vehicle for his legendary wit, so it may be safe to assume his use of the pastoral was also intended to "glaunce at greater matters". He made frequent use of the pastoral both through brief examples within plays and as the framework for complete works, riding on the shoulders of the public's love for satire, to transport the pastoral into the world of social and political commentary.<br /><br />The main plot of Shakespeare's <em>The Winter's Tale</em> is derived, somewhat more loyally than Shakespeare is usually inclined, from Robert Greene's pastoral romance <em>Pandosto </em>(1590). Perhaps the most apparent pastoral element of the play is how pastoral life in Bohemia offers a sharp contrast to the world of the Sicilian court. Although the idealized character Perdita may be the primary spokesperson of the pastoral world and its values, Shakespeare does not romanticize the play's pastoral world itself. As a matter of fact the typical pastoral vision is undercut by sadness and ambivalence throughout the length of the play.<br /><br />Historian Eric Ives has argued the play is actually a parody of Queen Anne Boleyn's fall, the wife of Henry VIII who was beheaded in 1536 for charges of adultery. Ives states numerous parallels exist between the two stories, including how Sir Henry Norreys, a close friend of Henry, was beheaded as a supposed lover of Anne, refusing to confess to save his life on the grounds that everyone knew of the Queen's innocence. Following this theory about the play, Perdita could represent Anne's only daughter, Queen Elizabeth I. An understanding of the play in this light further strengthens the connection Shakespeare made between the pastoral and satire.<br /><br />His poem "When icicles hang by the wall" from the play <em>Love's Labor's Lost</em> may at first glance appear quaint. In this piece the country folk go about their daily work, subjected to the harsh and cold winter. They carry firewood into the hall, watch the sheep, milk the cows, all the while dealing with the bitter cold. But the owl represents more than a common bird; Shakespeare's owl represents the wealthy of society who watch over the poor, oblivious of the plight and singing a "merry note".<br /><br />It is no stretch to assume Shakespeare's owl played an allegorical role in this pastoral. Shakespeare frequently used the owl for similar purposes. As Lady Macbeth prepares to murder the king she is startled by the shriek of an owl:<br /><blockquote>Hark! - Peace!<br />It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bellman<br />Which gives the stern'st good-night. [<em>Macbeth </em>- II, 2]</blockquote>Prior to the assassination of Julius Caesar an owl was reported:<br /><blockquote>The bird of night did sit,<br />Even at noon-day, upon the market-place<br />Hooting and shrieking. [<em>Julius Caesar</em> - I, 3]</blockquote>Further, Puck says of the owl:<br /><blockquote>Now the wasted brands do glow,<br />Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud,Puts the wretch that lies in woe<br />In remembrance of a shroud. <em>(A Midsummer Night's Dream</em> - V, 1)</blockquote>Since Shakespeare often associated the owl with death, its use here may very likely represent the pending death of such rustics as cataloged within the poem. Also noteworthy is the owl's disregard for their situations throughout this poem, singing his merry song in spite of their toil. Given the possible satirical heritage of the Renaissance pastorals, the owl could easily represent the wealthy officials who go about their merry way oblivious of the common man's trials.<br /><br />Understanding the connection between the English Renaissance pastoral and the satire, the interpretation of Shakespeare's <em>As You Like It</em> becomes less problematic. In the Arden Shakespeare edition, <em>As You Like It</em> is represented as a multi-layered chronicle of late English Renaissance culture and of all the various social and political conflicts marking the final decade of the sixteenth century. Dusinberre outlines how the play functions to "glaunce at greater matters". She cites Jaques's indebtedness to the period's vogue for satire and the faction-ridden politics occasioned by the Earl of Essex's career and his rivalry with Sir Robert Cecil. In the Arden Shakespeare edition of Shakespeare's pastoral play <em>As You Like It</em>, editor Juliet Dusinberre comments:<br /><blockquote>Social and political realities would not have been far from the minds of its first audiences in 1599, whether at court or in the public theatre. Beneath an impeccably sunny surface 'As You Like It' touches on troubled territories.</blockquote>The work of other Renaissance writers such as poet and playwright Christopher Marlowe may also be understood when a connection is made between the English Renaissance pastoral and its satirical heritage. Marlowe made the pastoral his own by introducing exaggerated imagery and sexuality to the form. Shepherds in the pastorals of Theocritus and Virgil had expressed love as a deep longing without sexuality, but in his pastoral poem "The Passionate Shepherd to His Love" Marlowe's shepherd asks a woman to share an idealized romantic relationship. However, the shepherd's proposal is actually more ridiculous than idyllic, possibly indicating Marlowe's intent to satirize the traditional pastoral form. The shepherd offers his love:<br /><blockquote>Fair-lined slippers for the cold,<br />With buckles of the purest gold . . .</blockquote>While a pretty promise, these and other claims in this poem are far from anything an actual shepherd could afford to bestow upon anyone.<br /><br />The poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt and Henry Howard had previously utilized the country life as a refuge for rejected suitors, but Marlowe's shepherd is not concerned about rejection or whether his social or financial status is acceptable to the girl; his only concern is the desire for immediate pleasure:<br /><blockquote>And if these pleasures may thee move,<br />Come live with me and be my Love.</blockquote>Today's America lives in little or no fear for ridiculing the government or speaking out against "progress". But the pastoral provided those less fortunate a venue to play with questions "which verged on a philosophical subversion of traditional religious themes in poetry" (Strand and Boland, 208). The works of Renaissance writers like Christopher Marlowe and William Shakespeare provide compelling evidence pastoral literature of that period was often used as a vehicle for political and social commentary, and this intent becomes more clear when the satirical elements of these works' lineage are not overlooked; following in the shadows of the popularity of such well-loved writers as Geoffrey Chaucer, Thomas More, and Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, the pastoral would naturally have received a satirical interpretation by Renaissance readers and audiences. With this in mind, and although the references may likely be obscured with the passing of time, interpretation of the pastoral poem enters a new realm of understanding; instead of relegating these pieces to the world of kitsch and quaint, we may now be compelled to dig below the surface, blowing away the dust to uncover a treasure, and in doing so are likely to at least appreciate, if not enjoy, the wit of the pastoral form's most famous practitioners.<br /><br />Works cited.<br /><br />Chaucer, Geoffrey. <em>The Canterbury Tales</em>. New York: Penquin Classics, 2003. Print.<br /><br />Moore, R.. "As You Like It: Introduction." <em>eNotes: As You Like It</em>. Ed. Penny Satoris. Seattle: Enotes.com Inc, October 2002. eNotes.com. 24 June 2009. Print.<br />More, Thomas. <em>Utopia</em>. New York: Penquin Classics, 2003. Print.<br /><br />"Pastoral in Shakespeare's Works: Introduction." <em>Shakespearean Criticism</em>. Ed. Michelle Lee. Vol. 89. Gale Cengage, 2005. eNotes.com. 2006. 24 Jan, 2009. Web.<br /><br />Shakespeare, William. <em>The Arden Shakespeare As You Like It</em>. Edited by Juliet Dusinberre. London: Thomson Learning, 2006. Print.<br /><br />"Shepheards Devises: Edmund Spenser's 'Shepheardes Calendar' and the Institutions of Elizabethan Society." Renaissance Society of America, 1995. The Free Library. 2006. 24 Jan, 2009 . Print.<br /><br />Strand, Mark, and Eavan Boland. <em>The Making of a Poem</em>. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, Inc., 2001. Print.<br /><br />"The Passionate Shepherd to His Love: Introduction." <em>Poetry for Students</em>. Ed. Marie Rose Napierkowski. Vol. 0. Detroit: Gale, 1998. eNotes.com. January 2006. 31 January 2009. Web.<br /><br />"The Passionate Shepherd to His Love (Style)." <em>Notes on Poetry</em>. Answers Corporation, 2006. Answers.com 01 Feb. 2009. Web.<br /><br />"The Winter's Tale: Pastoral Elements." <em>Shakespeare for Students</em>. Ed. Marie Rose Napierkowski. Vol. 1. Detroit: Gale, 1998. eNotes.com. January 2006. 30 June 2009. Web.Terry Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12072061386395979977noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6665821763723637834.post-81789840105563776602011-06-23T01:30:00.000-07:002022-03-11T23:05:28.270-08:00Cinematic Narration and Shakespeare's PlaysMany of the limitations <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.biography.com/articles/William-Shakespeare-194895" rel="biographycom" title="William Shakespeare">William Shakespeare</a> faced in the technical facilities of the Elizabethan stage are answered in the nature and abilities of modern film. Where Shakespeare seemed to yearn for a way to express the true colors of his vision through words, film offers a ready palette and the ability to "show" what Shakespeare could only "tell." Shakespeare's theater, with its lack of technical resources, painted verbal pictures of battlefields and fantastical places, scenes and exchanges in a span of places from the underworld to the heavens, and snapshots of a character's inner thoughts and feelings, entirely through words. By its nature and technical abilities film has a broader visual vocabulary available to it than Shakespeare's theater could ever access.<br /><br />In <em>Henry V</em> the chorus laments the limitations of Shakespeare's Elizabethan stage:<br /><blockquote>. . . Can this cock-pit hold<br />The vasty fields of France? Or may we cram,<br />Within this wooden O, the very casques,<br />That did affright the air at Agincourt?<br />O, pardon! Since a crooked figure may<br />Attest, in little place, a million;<br />And let us, ciphers to this great accompt,<br />On your imaginary forces work.</blockquote>In director and actor <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.rottentomatoes.com/celebrity/kenneth_branagh" rel="rottentomatoes" title="Kenneth Branagh">Kenneth Branagh</a>'s 1989 film adaptation of <em>Henry V</em>, which earned him an Oscar nomination for Best Director, preeminent British classical actor of the first post-Olivier generation, Derek Jacobi, spoke these words of the chorus' prologue from the backstage of a modern theater. Jacobi's speech ended on the stage, where the play's opening scene is expected to begin. However the battle scene that follows is not in fact filmed on a stage, but on a 15<sup>th</sup> Century battlefield. By filming the opening sequence in this manner, Branagh both acknowledges and shatters the limitations Shakespeare faced on his Elizabethan stage, and opens a door for the cinematic narrator to offer its unique and virtually unlimited contribution to the production.<br /><br />In a similar manner, Branagh's 2006 adaptation of Shakespeare's <em><a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/As_You_Like_It" rel="wikipedia" title="As You Like It">As You Like It</a></em> takes us behind the scenes of its actual filming when Rosalind (played by <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.rottentomatoes.com/celebrity/bryce_dallas_howard" rel="rottentomatoes" title="Bryce Dallas Howard">Bryce Dallas Howard</a>) delivers the play's epilogue among the actors' trailers and the general hubbub of the crew. Film's ability to break the fourth wall opens new realms for the cinematic narrator, bringing an intimacy between actor, filmmaker, and audience which Shakespeare could only experience in his dreams. This intimacy introduces the other end of a spectrum available to the cinematic narrator, ranging from spectacle to minute detail, and outlines its possible contribution to the filming of <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shakespeare%27s_plays" rel="wikipedia" title="Shakespeare's plays">Shakespeare's plays</a>.<br /><br />But the modern cinematic narrator's contribution to the filming of Shakespeare's plays is not merely technical. The cinematic voice is the product of its own day and age just as much as the voice of Shakespeare. In "Shakespeare and the Cinema," Russell Jackson, Professor of Shakespeare Studies at the University of Birmingham and Director of the Shakespeare Institute, <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=52.19,-1.71&spn=0.1,0.1&q=52.19,-1.71%20(Stratford-upon-Avon)&t=h" rel="geolocation" title="Stratford-upon-Avon">Stratford-upon-Avon</a>, observes:<br /><blockquote>To an extent, the history of Shakespearian film-making is one of variations on this theme: shifting attitudes to the Shakespearian source material, varied objectives, and changing techniques.</blockquote>So the adaptation of Shakespeare to film serves the needs of both play and filmmaker, and the cinematic narration developed for each individual film will be dictated by the attitudes, objectives and techniques applied to the material.<br /><br />The Shakespearean canon offers a nearly comprehensive palette of human emotion and experience with ready-made scenarios to match each filmmaker's objective. However, public opinion about the individual plays continues to change. The play <em>As You Like It</em>, although neglected in performance for more than a century after Shakespeare's death in 1616, has been a popular play on the stage ever since. Although <em><a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/taming-of-the-shrew1983" rel="rottentomatoes" title="Taming of the Shrew">The Taming of the Shrew</a></em> remains one of Shakespeare's most frequently performed comedies, interpretation of the play's commentary about women changes with the times. While few would dispute the numerous merits of <em><a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0004325/" rel="imdb" title="The Merchant of Venice">The Merchant of Venice</a></em>, its anti-Semitic themes have caused the work to fall out of fashion at times when these themes could not be readily justified. Attitudes about Shakespeare himself continue to change throughout the years; while he is often hailed as a great genius who has made numerous contributions to the English language as well as our overall understanding of humanity and the individual, at other times even his existence has been called into question and William Shakespeare has been thought to be the compiled penname for several writers of the Elizabethan stage.<br /><br />In an interview for his 2006 film adaptation of <em>As You Like It</em>, director Kenneth Branagh spoke of his objectives for filming Shakespeare:<br /><blockquote>I felt as though I was watching Shakespeare across the generations and in a new medium - - sort of waving the flag and saying, We're not telling you this is better than anything you'll ever see but we think it's wonderful.</blockquote>By nature of its creative flexibility, film opens the door to radical objectives and the use of distinctive narrative voices. Director <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.rottentomatoes.com/celebrity/baz_luhrmann" rel="rottentomatoes" title="Baz Luhrmann">Baz Luhrmann</a>'s 1996 adaptation of <em>Romeo and Juliet</em> sought to update the play with a radical approach intended to appeal to a broad audience. However, it may be argued this adaptation pales in comparison to <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.myspace.com/everything/franco-zeffirelli" rel="myspace" title="Franco Zeffirelli">Franco Zeffirelli</a>'s unforgettable 1968 film, which handled the material in a more traditional manner and is now considered a film classic. Addressing this capacity of film, and perhaps implying some restraint should be exercised in its use, Kenneth Branagh said:<br /><blockquote>When you make a film of a subject that existed in another medium - particularly in the theatre, where it's worked as a play for four hundred years - I think one is obliged to consider what the cinema can do to reveal the story of the play that the theatre can't do in the same way. I'm not suggesting one is better than the other, but simply, what can the medium do? Why do it in the cinema?</blockquote>While the quality and influence of Shakespeare's plays may be a common reason they are adapted into film, these works have also been used as vehicles for promoting and preserving the work of individual actors. <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.rottentomatoes.com/celebrity/laurence_olivier" rel="rottentomatoes" title="Laurence Olivier">Sir Laurence Olivier</a>'s film performances of Shakespeare, which include <em>King Lear</em> (1983), <em>Henry V</em> (1944), <em>Hamlet</em> (1948), <em>As You Like It</em> (1936), <em>Richard III</em> (1955), and <em>The Merchant of Venice</em> (1973) are currently valued more for their preservation of work by such a legendary actor than their other cinematic merits.<br /><br />It could be said Shakespeare's plays lend themselves to screen adaptation more readily than scripts from modern theater. A modern play frequently must be "opened up" so the visual narrative of film may be more fully applied, even though this process of opening is likely to superimpose new ideas onto the original play. Where modern theater seems to have been influenced by cinema and television, presenting dialogue virtually void of descriptive language, the plays of William Shakespeare give us language rich in narrative. With Shakespeare's plays the material for cinematic narration is often readily available in the existing text and may simply be translated into an artistic and effective visual representation. Coupled with modern cinema's technical capacities, the wealth of description present in much of Shakespeare's work may be more fully appreciated and realized than could ever have been possible on the Elizabethan stage.<br /><br />But for all the literary and descriptive quality of Shakespeare's plays, they may be more effective as film when careful consideration is given to the development of an appropriate cinematic narrator and that narrator is given a clear voice in the film's execution. The plays have been filmed countless times and with varied amounts of cinematic intervention. On the one hand we have extreme makeovers such as the 1999 film <em>Ten Things I Hate About You</em>, based on Shakespeare's <em>The Taming of the Shrew</em> but set in a modern high school and rewritten in prose. Franco Zeffirelli's film version of <em>Romeo and Juliet</em> stayed much closer to the original, both the text and the setting. Both films can claim success on very different levels, but they share the benefit of a strong directorial vision translated into a distinctive style and use of cinematic narration. Russell Jackson said:<br /><blockquote>Films based on Shakespeare's plays are best considered in terms of their vision - that is, the imaginary world they create, and the way of seeing it that they offer the viewer rather than the degree of their faithfulness to a Shakespearean original.</blockquote>One of the most obvious characteristics in any of Shakespeare's plays is his use of language, and in particular his use of blank verse. Actors on the Elizabethan stage did not enjoy the benefits of electronic amplification, so clarity was a major concern of any playwright when assigning words to an actor. Like other playwrights of his day, Shakespeare employed the use of iambic pentameter when constructing his lines. Iambic pentameter depends on an oral rhythm which approximates natural speech but almost magically makes it easier for an audience to hear and understand. Each line contains a series of alternating weak and strong stresses on its words. The combination of one weak and one strong syllable creates what is called a foot, and each line contains five such feet. Built upon iambic pentameter, blank verse was a helpful tool for the Elizabethan stage, but not an obvious one for modern film. Consequently, many filmmakers place little importance on their actors' use of these elements in the blank verse even though Shakespeare's use of iambic pentameter often carries instruction to the actors and hints about his intended meanings. A modern filmmaker may decide to ignore how and why Shakespeare used blank verse, but he does so at his own peril and his final interpretation of the work might suffer.<br /><br />Antony's famous speech from Shakespeare's <em>Julius Caesar</em> is written in blank verse. In general, when a Shakespearean actor comes across a line which seems to have more or less than five feet, it is likely an adjustment should be made in pronunciation. For example, in Antony's speech, the word "ambitious" is pronounced with four syllables and not three like we generally use today. The word "interred" is meant to contain three syllables as well, indicated by the number of feet in the line. But if you allow the form to flow, without fighting the rhythms, not only is it easier to hear the lines, but you begin to hear Shakespeare's own acting directions, indicating which word is stressed and therefore important. Often the stresses in a line can change or at least clarify the meaning. The stress given to the word "ambitious" throughout the speech, both by the number of syllables and the frequency of repetition, is underscored by the rhythm. We see this is a speech about ambition, but not necessarily about the ambition of Caesar. Because it is stressed, and repeated, then followed by "Yet Brutus is an honorable man" we get the idea Antony might actually be saying Brutus was the ambitious one, and not Caesar.<br /><br />Another obvious characteristic of Shakespeare's language is its descriptive qualities. Because the Elizabethan stage did not use more than the most minimal bits of scenery to depict location and time of day, playwrights alluded to such details through the dialogue. Dialogue was also used to describe events which might be difficult to depict on the stage, or to relay information which the characters on stage might not otherwise be privy to. Because film carries such a wide range of possibilities, anything from voiceovers and flashbacks to quick editing and the ability to bring any time or feeling into the scene, Shakespeare's allusions within the text, although they are often beautiful, may easily be handed off to the cinematic narrator's duties. What remains next is for the filmmaker to decide if this descriptive dialogue is necessary or if it becomes redundant when these things can be shown in other ways.<br /><br />Aside from a lack of scenery, the Elizabethan stage's use of costuming was minimal as well and actors generally wore "modern dress" whether the play took place in Elizabethan England or ancient Rome. Modern film actors are usually dressed in costumes accurate to the story's time and culture, again reducing the need for descriptive language which identifies a play's locale. Modern filmmakers often stray from the setting Shakespeare intended for his plays, adding yet another discretionary element to the director's plate and another instance where the original language might best be cut. Director Michael Hoffman's 1999 film adaptation of <em>A Midsummer Night's Dream</em> changes the location from Greece to Italy and moves the time a few hundred years from its original era. Kenneth Branagh's <em>As You Like It</em> sets the tale in a British enclave of feudal Japan.<br /><br />It is impossible to know how Shakespeare himself might approach the filming of his plays if he were alive today, of course. Freed from the constraints of his Elizabethan stage, we can only guess what the Bard of Avon might have given us. Perhaps he would have left out much of the descriptive sections within his plays, or maybe he would retain them for their poetic contributions. Of course Shakespeare would realize an almost unlimited palette of times and locations for his plays, but perhaps he would have rejected their importance and focused even more on the interactions between characters. Or perhaps Shakespeare would have transferred a portion of his writing from the pen to the camera, using each tool for its inherent strengths and understanding their weaknesses. What we do know is the cinematic narration in a modern film may be used to enhance what we already have in Shakespeare's plays, the only challenge comes in knowing where and how much of the focus to give that narrator.<br /><br />Works cited.<br /><br />Braudy, Leo and Marshall Cohen. "Film Narrative and the Other Arts." <em>Film Theory & Criticism</em>. Ed. Leo Braudy and Marshall Cohen. New York: Oxford University Press, 2009. 341-344.<br />Jackson, Russell. "Shakespeare and the Cinema." <em>The Cambridge Companion To Shakespeare</em>. Ed. Margreta de Grazia and Stanley Wells. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001. 217-233.<br /><br />"Lawrence Olivier." <em>IMDb: The Internet Movie Database</em>. IMDb.com, 1990-2009. 05 July, 2009. < http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000059/><br /><br />"Online Exclusive With Kenneth Branagh." <em>HBO Films</em>. HBO Films, 2006. 05 July, 2009. < http://www.hbo.com/films/asyoulikeit/interviews/>Terry Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12072061386395979977noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6665821763723637834.post-38843959417560073762011-06-17T02:05:00.001-07:002022-03-11T23:10:41.512-08:00The Seven Habits of Highly Effective Gilbert and Sullivan CharactersThe bulk of Leone Cottrell-Adkins' opera troupe had been performing together for years, but opera was a new experience for the fledgling small-town community theatre who now hosted them, and for me. As an eighteen-year-old stage manager I was actually a little intimidated by the whole thing.<br /><br />I had managed to sit through their production of Mozart's <em>Cosi fan tutti, </em>but the finale brought welcome relief. However, their production of the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.last.fm/music/Gilbert%2B%2526%2BSullivan" rel="lastfm" title="Gilbert & Sullivan">Gilbert and Sullivan</a> mainstay operetta, <em>The Mikado</em>, was another story entirely. I had never been exposed to the sublime ridiculousness of G & S before then, but I melted each time the lead soprano sang <em>The Moon and I</em> and thrilled at each performance of the Act I finale. I laughed at all the little jokes interspersed through the dialogue, and even vaguely understood a bit of the social and political satire. If it weren't for herding around that chorus of ancient singers, the experience would have been a dream.<br /><br />In fact, as I became more familiar with the Gilbert and Sullivan canon, a collection of little operatic satires that brought the musical theater to new heights of wit and sophistication, I noticed how these characters resonate within our individual and cultural psyches. They mirror our own aspirations, our own failures, and even our own successes.<br /><br />I learned that these operas can teach us valuable lessons for leading happy, productive lives. If their libretti were collected in one volume, you might even call it <em>The Seven Habits of Highly Effective Gilbert and Sullivan Characters</em>.<br /><h3>Lesson 1: Synergy and the Three Little Maids From School</h3><br /><div>A friend once told me his grandmother's theory about little boys and mob mentality: "One boy is fine, but two boys is about like half a boy and three boys ain't no boy at all."</div><br />Synergy happens when the result is greater than the sum of it's parts, so I guess with little boys it's a case of synergy in reverse.<br /><br />But on the other hand three little girls can be synergy personified. Just consider the three little maids in Gilbert and Sullivan's <em>The Mikado</em>. Individually, they are nothing more than little girls who just graduated from a ladies' seminary. But synergistically, these three little maids are a force to be reckoned with.<br /><br />Jim Rohn said: "You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with."<br /><br />It's true our associations help us decide what activities we'll engage in and they influence our general psychological outlook. But synergy happens when we step outside our everyday associations. It takes place through teams and at its essence requires us to embrace diversity.<br /><br />Stephen Covey said: "Synergy is the highest activity of life; it creates new untapped alternatives; it values and exploits the mental, emotional, and psychological differences between people."<br /><br />Granted, Gilbert and Sullivan's three little maids are a fairly homogeneous group. But at heart they are three unique individuals with their own needs, wants, and desires. Obviously something in their union touches our culture's corporate psyche.<br /><br />And what can synergy accomplish? Perhaps the first little maid puts it best when she shares her true agenda:<br /><blockquote>I mean to rule the earth,<br />As he the sky--<br />We really know our worth,<br />The sun and I!</blockquote><br />If not rulers of the earth, synergy has certainly allowed these three little maids to ascend to the status of cultural icon. Here are a few of the many nods pop culture has given this synergistic trio, courtesy of Wikipedia:<br /><blockquote>The song "Three Little Maids" is featured in the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1981_in_film" title="1981 in film">1981</a> film <em><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chariots_of_Fire" title="Chariots of Fire">Chariots of Fire</a></em>, where Harold Abrahams first sees his future wife dressed as one of the Three Little Maids. Many television programmes have featured the song, including <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frasier_Crane" title="Frasier Crane">Frasier Crane</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Cleese" title="John Cleese">John Cleese</a> in the <em><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cheers" title="Cheers">Cheers</a></em> episode "Simon Says" (for which Cleese won an <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emmy_Award" title="Emmy Award">Emmy Award</a>), Frasier solo in the <em><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frasier" title="Frasier">Frasier</a></em> episode "Leapin' Lizards", the <em><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Angel_%28TV_series%29" title="Angel (TV series)">Angel</a></em> episode "Hole in the World", <em><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Simpsons" title="The Simpsons">The Simpsons</a></em> episode "Cape Feare," <em><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alvin_and_the_Chipmunks_%28TV_series%29" title="Alvin and the Chipmunks (TV series)">Alvin and the Chipmunks</a></em> episode "Maids in Japan",<em><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Suite_Life_of_Zack_%26_Cody" title="The Suite Life of Zack & Cody">The Suite Life of Zack & Cody</a></em> episode, "Lost In Translation," and <em>The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Animaniacs" title="Animaniacs">Animaniacs</a> Vol. 1</em> episode "Hello Nice Warners". The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Capitol_Steps" title="Capitol Steps">Capitol Steps</a> also performed a parody entitled "Three Little Kurds from School Are We" about conditions in Iraq. In the <em>CSI: Crime Scene Investigation</em> episode <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Suckers_%28CSI_episode%29" title="Suckers (CSI episode)">Suckers</a>, a corrupt casino owner uses the notes from the first line ("Three little maids from school are we") to program the combination to the casino's safe.</blockquote><br />Where can synergy take you?<br /><h3>Lesson 2: Strategic Planning and the Lord High Executioner</h3><br />Flotsam and jetsam are interesting things. In general they're just debris that floats around in the ocean, but specifically they have two entirely different origins.<br /><br />Jetsam is debris you'll find floating around in the ocean that was thrown overboard (jettisoned) by the crew of a ship, usually to lighten their load in an emergency. Flotsam is other stuff floating around in the sea that wasn't deliberately put there, like perhaps the remnants of a ship wreck.<br /><br />But generally they're just topsy-turvy stuff floating around in the ocean.<br /><br />Not that Sirs Gilbert or Sullivan would necessarily be classified as flotsam or jetsam, but a few of the characters they created might be. In particular Ko-Ko, the reluctant Lord High Executioner in <em>The Mikado</em>.<br /><br />Ko-Ko describes his rapid (and involuntary) ascent from common tailor to political heights:<br /><blockquote>Taken from the county jail by a set of curious chances; liberated then on bail, on my own recognizances; wafted by a favoring gale as one sometimes is in trances, to a height that few can scale, save by long and weary dances; surely, never had a male under such like circumstances so adventurous a tale, which may rank with most romances.</blockquote><br />Oh sure Ko-Ko might enjoy all the general deferring by the common folk, but his new lot in life presents a couple of unpleasant tasks. First he is expected to separate folks from their beloved heads. Second, after another set of curious events he is left with no choice other than to woo and wed a rather unpleasant woman named Katisha.<br /><br />Ko-Ko ended up in a mess because he merely floated with the current. Not being proactive, lacking a plan of his own, a plan was trust upon him.<br /><br />Hillary Rodham Clinton, Harvey Mackay, John L. Beckley have all been credited with some version of this saying:<br /><blockquote>If you fail to plan, you plan to fail.</blockquote><br />Ko-Ko did not have a plan. While he did create a list of possible decapitation candidates, a dutiful task for any Lord High Executioner, that was after he had already been wafted around a bit and dubbed (or dooped) Lord High Executioner.<br /><br />Experts tell us the best laid plans are:<br /><ol><br /> <li><em>Written.</em> If we just keep plans in our heads they have a way of morphing, a great way to justify when we don't stick to them. Yes Ko-Ko had written a list, but it also needed to be . . .</li><br /> <li><em>Measurable.</em> It's not enough to say you're going to chop off a few heads; you need to say you'll chop off X-number of heads before a certain date or you'll have no concrete way of knowing when you've actually attained your goal.</li><br /> <li><em>Attainable.</em> You've got to pace yourself. You're not going to decapitate too many criminals when you're first starting out. Set a do-able measurement for your goal, but don't be afraid to push yourself.</li><br /></ol><br />Flotsam and jetsam go wherever the current takes them and where they'll wind up is anyone's guess. But we're not sea debris; we can be proactive and plan for our own choices. They'll find someone to be Lord High Executioner, but does it really have to be you?<br /><h3>Lesson 3: Win-Win Thinking For Multi-Talented Fairies and Mortals</h3><br />Henry Ford may not have invented the assembly line, but it's probably safe to say his use of the concept helped it catch on. His first conveyor-belt version of it started cranking out sub-assemblies and chassis somewhere around April 1st, 1913, but hardly anyone considered it a bad April Fools joke.<br /><br />Workers were trained in the art of specialization, and the assembly-line exploded on 20th Century America. All over it, to be exact.<br /><br />And soon, gone were the Renaissance men, the generalists, the <a href="http://terryheath.com/are-you-a-mozart-or-a-franklin/">Ben Franklins</a> among us who joyously pursued varied vocations. The number of kites flown in thunder storms reduced drastically as well.<br /><br />Teachers everywhere started asking children what they want to be when they grow up, and Sigmund Freud's psychoanalysis business really started taking off.<br /><br />But Gilbert and Sullivan had long since addressed this situation in their fairy opera, <em>Iolanthe</em>.<br /><br />You see, young Strephon faces a problem with duplicity. Being born of an unlawful marriage between a fairy mother and a mortal father, he is fairy from the waist up but his legs are entirely mortal. But does he let this get him down?<br /><br />Of course not. Would I write about him if he were a loser like that?<br /><br />Oh sure, he hesitates about telling the little secret to his fiance. But when he does, his fiance is very glad to know his <em>bottom half</em> is the mortal part.<br /><br />At first there is a little strife between the fairies and the mortals over the whole issue, but following the Gilbert and Sullivan tradition, everything ends in a win-win situation.<br /><br />Stephen Covey listed "Think Win-Win" as number four in <em>Seven Habits of Highly Effective People</em>. Covey learned a lot from Gilbert and Sullivan.<br /><br />Covey also listed four steps to win-win thinking. Covey used a lot of lists.<br /><ol><br /> <li>See the problem from the other point of view, in terms of the needs and concerns of the other party.</li><br /> <li>Identify the key issues and concerns (not positions) involved.</li><br /> <li>Determine what results would make a fully acceptable solution.</li><br /> <li>Identify new options to achieve those results.</li><br /></ol><br />But what if you, like Strephon, struggle with embracing your inner fairy? What if you feel there are two halves to you and never the twain shall meet (nor never shall the two meet Twain)?<br /><br />The same process applies.<br /><br />Multiple interests and talents are common among creative types. But thanks to the Industrial Revolution and things like Ford's Great April Fools Joke the multi-talented are often encouraged to choose one thing and go with it. It's nobody's fault, it's just the brainwashing we've all had.<br /><br />However, by learning to think win-win about our multiple interests (okay, so if you have several just tack on more wins and think win-win-win or whatever) we come up with true solutions to help us live happy and congruent lives.<br /><br />Choose one paradigm and you're thinking win-lose, surpress them both and you're thinking lose-lose. But embrace your inner fairy and everybody wins.<br /><h3>Lesson 4: I Am the Very Model of a Modern Armchair Generalist</h3><br />Frank Gelette Burgess, artist, art critic, poet, author, humorist, and inventor of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Purple_Cow">Purple Cow</a> once said, "To appreciate nonsense requires a serious interest in life."<br /><br />Leonardo da Vinci (whose introduction requires no laundry list of accomplishments) is quoted with: "Go some distance away because then the work appears smaller and more of it can be taken in at a glance and a lack of harmony and proportion is more readily seen."<br /><br />Gilbert and Sullivan addressed these same ideas in the Major-General's famous patter song from <em>The Pirates of Penzance</em>.<br /><br />Understanding military leadership's necessity to see things from a distance, as well as their ability to appreciate nonsense, the Major-General breezily rattles off a laundry list of his impressive academic accomplishments.<br /><blockquote>I am the very model of a modern Major-General,<br />I've information vegetable, animal, and mineral,<br />I know the kings of England, and I quote the fights historical<br />From Marathon to Waterloo, in order categorical;<br />I'm very well acquainted, too, with matters mathematical,<br />I understand equations, both the simple and quadratical,<br />About binomial theorem I'm teeming with a lot o' news,<br />With many cheerful facts about the square of the hypotenuse.</blockquote><br />What's that? You say knowing the croaking chorus from <em>The Frogs</em> of Aristophanes, understanding calculus and binomial theorem, and the ability to whistle all the airs from that delightful operetta <em>H.M.S. Pinafore</em> has nothing to do with military competency? Rubbish, I say!<br /><br />Granted, a taste for G & S does require an ability to appreciate nonsense, but this capacity may easily transfer into an ability to see the all-important bigger picture in life, work, and all the above. Gilbert and Sullivan's patter song could be the anthem for modern armchair generalists.<br /><blockquote>I am the very model of a modern Armchair Generalist,<br />I treat life like a drug store and approach it with a lotta lists . . .</blockquote><br />Stephen Covey tells us if we ever hope to be one of the seven highly effective people with habits, we must "sharpen the saw." Although many of us do in fact have an axe to grind, sharpening our saws is an entirely different affair; of course Mr. Covey is (in part) talking about sharpening our minds.<br /><br />Of course, sharpening our minds doesn't give us carte blanche to go all willy nilly. In his novel, <em>The Prime Minister</em>, Anthony Trollope describes the character Everett Wharton:<br /><blockquote>[He] had read much, and although he generally forgot what he read, there were left with him from his reading certain nebulous lights, begotten by other men's thinking, which enabled him to talk on most subjects. It cannot be said of him that he did much thinking for himself - but he thought that he thought.</blockquote><br />And of course any conversation about thinking leads us to the famous Dr. Seuss-ian epiphany:<br /><blockquote>And he puzzled three hours, till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before! 'Maybe Christmas,' he thought, 'doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas . . . perhaps . . . means a little bit more!'</blockquote><br />Taking in the view from Mt. Crumpit, the Grinch became a generalist, a divergent thinker. Gilbert and Sullivan, Stephen Covey, and Benjamin Franklin would all be proud.<br /><br />Creative minds <del>unite</del> untie.<br /><h3>Lesson 5: Little Buttercup On Seeking First to Understand</h3><br />In Gilbert and Sullivan's operetta <em>H.M.S. Pinafore</em>, things are not what they seem. It appears young sailor Ralph Rackstraw loves above his station in life, the Captain's fair daughter Josephine. But as in life and as in the bulk of the G & S Canon, things are seldom what they seem.<br /><br />In fact, under her gay and frivolous exterior, so gay and frivolous everyone calls her "Little Buttercup," dockside vendor Mrs. Cripps hints she may be hiding a dark secret.<br />The others however are as uninterested in hearing her secret as she is in revealing it.<br /><br />But after a great deal of general topsy-turvy we learn Mrs. Cripps had once been the nursemaid of Ralph Rackstraw and Josephine's father, the Captain. Prone to confusion, she inadvertently switched the two babes and Ralph should in fact be the Captain and the Captain should in fact be Ralph.<br /><br />So being of high birth, Ralph hadn't loved above his station at all, but below it. As such, he is free to marry the low-born but lovely Josephine.<br /><br />Two hours of twisted plots could have been avoided if everyone had sought to understand Mrs. Cripps' earlier warnings. But of course we would not have had two hours of Sullivan's lovely music either, so all is forgiven.<br /><br />In Stephen Covey's <em>The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People</em>, he extols us seek first to understand, then to be understood.<br /><br />And Mrs. Cripps extols us:<br /><blockquote>Things are seldom what they seem,<br />Skim milk masquerades as cream;<br />Highlows pass as patent leathers;<br />Jackdaws strut in peacock's feathers.</blockquote><br />I think Covey may have learned a thing or two from Mrs. Cripps.<br /><h3>Lesson 6: Aesthetic Poets and "To Thine Own Self Be True"</h3><br />Aesthetics. These are people who really get into appearances. They suffer for the sake of suffering, and supposedly that makes great art.<br /><br />Gilbert and Sullivan's operetta <em>Patience,</em> Reginald Bunthorne is an aesthetic poet whose apparent sincerity and purity make him a big hit with the ladies. I say "apparent" because he is a total fake. In a private moment with the audience, Bunthorne gives a little advice:<br /><blockquote>If you're anxious for to shine in the high aesthetic line as a man of culture rare,<br />You must get up all the germs of the transcendental terms, and plant them ev'rywhere.<br />You must lie upon the daisies and discourse in novel phrases of your complicated state of mind,<br />The meaning doesn't matter if it's only idle chatter of a transcendental kind.<br />And ev'ry one will say,<br />As you walk your mystic way,<br />"If this young man expresses himself in terms too deep for me,<br />Why, what a very singularly deep young man this deep young man must be!"</blockquote><br />Here is what <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Patience_%28opera%29">Wikipedia</a> (love Wikipedia) had to say about Gilbert and Sullivan's operetta <em>Patience</em>:<br /><blockquote>The opera is a satire on the aesthetic movement of the 1870s and '80s in England, when the output of poets, composers, painters and designers of all kinds was indeed prolific-but, some argued, empty and self-indulgent. This artistic movement was so popular, and also so easy to ridicule as a meaningless fad, that it made <em>Patience</em> a big hit.</blockquote><br />Bunthorne teaches us a sort of anti-lesson. Contrary to what he might advise, be true to yourself.<br /><br />Embrace all the varied and wonderful things that make you unique and unleash that on the world, even if you feel foolish. Your right people will find you if you're not hiding behind something else, something that isn't really you. Then sit back and don't worry about what will come; the right things will come along with the right people. Just let your creative spirit go skipping down the halls, if that's what it needs to do.<br /><br />Being true to yourself is the first priority.<br /><h3>Lesson 7: Begin With the End in Mind</h3><br />Returning to <em>The Mikado, </em>Pooh-Bah holds numerous exalted offices including Lord Chief Justice, Chancellor of the Exchequer, Master of the Buckhounds, Lord High Auditor, Groom of the Back Stairs, and Lord High Everything Else. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grand_Poobah">Wikipedia</a> says:<br /><blockquote>The name has come to be used as a mocking title for someone self-important or high-ranking and who either exhibits an inflated self-regard, who acts in several capacities at once, or who has limited authority while taking impressive titles.</blockquote><br />It isn't so much an issue of inflated self-regard, and while I Pooh-Bah may have had a penchant for holding grand-sounding titles, he had a goal in mind: power. His willingness to wear so many hats was just the price he was willing to pay for his ambition. Through all these efforts, he kept the end in mind.<br /><br />Mark Twain offered some advice:<br /><blockquote>Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.</blockquote><br />An old joke asks how you can sculpt an elephant. The answer is this: Get a huge block of marble, then chip away everything that doesn't look like an elephant.<br /><br />Or as Stephen Covey says, "Begin with the end in mind."<br /><h3>And With That in Mind, Here is the End</h3><br />At eighteen I didn't realize how true to human nature these silly little characters really were. Since then I've crossed paths with the persistent Katisha in real life, I've known others who habitually wafted to and fro like Ko-Ko, and each of the operetta's surprisingly three-dimensional characters have appeared in other faces throughout my adult life. But what really surprises me is when I notice elements these merry musicals' characters in myself.<br /><br />Now I just need to heed their sage advice.<br /><div class="zemanta-pixie" style="height: 15px; margin-top: 10px;"><img alt="" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=13df67fa-532e-430b-b92e-4fc7a9cbd52b" style="border: none; float: right;" /></div>Terry Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12072061386395979977noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6665821763723637834.post-17226421643499123552011-06-15T17:00:00.000-07:002022-03-11T21:48:03.943-08:00How Obscure Clarity Can Improve Your WritingIn <em>On Writing</em>, Earnest Hemingway says, “I try always to do the thing by three-cushion shots rather than by words or direct statements. But maybe we must have direct statements too.”<br /><br /><a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/E._B._White" rel="wikipedia" title="E. B. White">E.B. White</a> is often quoted with, “Be obscure clearly.”<br /><br />Hemingway's three-cushion shot and White's obscure clarity could be seen as extensions of the “show, don’t tell” advice often given to fiction writers, but the implications of both techniques could mean added texture for a story, allowing the reader to fill in the blanks from his own experience.<br /><h3>Case Studies for Obscure Clarity</h3>Utopian and dystopian literature have long been strongholds for the imaginative use of obscurity. Inventing new societies, new governments, and new social norms have been the hallmark of these genres. In the process they have specifically capitalized on the use of satire, symbolism and euphemism. Utopian and dystopian authors have utilized White's obscure clarity through the names assigned to characters, locations, themes, and everyday vocabulary used within the context of the story. In his <em><a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.amazon.com/Utopia-Penguin-Classics-Thomas-More/dp/0140449108%3FSubscriptionId%3D0G81C5DAZ03ZR9WH9X82%26tag%3Dzem-20%26linkCode%3Dxm2%26camp%3D2025%26creative%3D165953%26creativeASIN%3D0140449108" rel="amazon" title="Utopia (Penguin Classics)">Utopia</a></em>, <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_More" rel="wikipedia" title="Thomas More">Thomas More</a> criticized the religious and political views of his contemporaries by obscuring his true intentions through the use of satire. <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.aynrand.org/" rel="homepage" title="Ayn Rand">Ayn Rand</a> used religious symbolism in <em>Anthem </em>to exalt the pursuit of one’s true self. In <em>The <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.amazon.com/HANDMAIDS-TALE-Margaret-Atwood/dp/0771008139%3FSubscriptionId%3D0G81C5DAZ03ZR9WH9X82%26tag%3Dzem-20%26linkCode%3Dxm2%26camp%3D2025%26creative%3D165953%26creativeASIN%3D0771008139" rel="amazon" title="THE HANDMAID'S TALE">Handmaid’s Tale</a></em> Margaret Atwood applies the use of euphemisms to show how we might become used to just about anything, however tyrannical or foreign it initially seems. Other writers, as well as film makers, built euphemisms, established symbolism, and wrote in a satirical manner to both cloak and intensify their messages. By the use of obscure clarity, the resulting pieces of literature have become powerful works of fiction, capable of clearly delivering messages beyond what might have been possible without the use of such three-cushion shots.<br /><h3>Satire in Thomas More's <em>Utopia</em></h3>Thomas More was a man of deep religious convictions, a devout Roman Catholic who was canonized in 1935, four hundred years after his death, by Pope Pius XI. More was declared the patron saint of politicians and statesmen by Pope John Paul II. It should be reasonable then to assume More’s religious and political views would be similar to those of the church he served. But More’s fictional <em>Utopia</em>, completed in 1516, flies in the face of his century’s religious convention with its free society of religious experimentation and political socialism. Understanding the names of places, people and even the book’s title will reveal More’s satirical purposes in writing the book.<br /><br />Modern readers have come to understand a “utopia” as a paradise, a world built on higher ideals where the lamb lays down with the lion. As such, it would be natural to assume that in this book More had explained his designs for a more perfect world, with his own religious, political, and moral beliefs fulfilled. But in fact, the word “utopia” (which was coined by More himself from Latin) would be literally translated as “no place”. By calling his dreamland “Utopia” More is betraying his story, showing it is a made up tale; he is literally calling it a place which does not, and presumably cannot, exist. He further betrays his true view by the names he assigns to various characters and places within the story. The primary narrator, the character who describes this paradise to his companions, is a traveler named Raphael Hythlodaeus. Although he is telling his tale to two real-life, historical characters, Thomas More and his friend Peter Gilles, Raphael is a fictional character. Since the character’s name is chosen by the author, it opens the door to investigate the reason this particular name was assigned. Because More was widely known to be a deeply religious man, it doesn’t require too much stretching of the imagination to assume More chose the name “Raphael” with its Biblical counterpart in mind.<br /><br />In the Bible, Raphael was the name of an angel. The angel Raphael was mentioned in the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Book_of_Tobit" rel="wikipedia" title="Book of Tobit">Book of Tobit</a>. He guides Tobias and later cures his father of his blindness and helps him recover his property. Because of this story, Raphael is considered an angel-physician, an agent of healing who cured both the bodies and the souls of men. In fact, the name “Raphael” is from the Hebrew for “God has healed”. Throughout the Bible, angels are seen as ministers of light and illumination, proclaiming messages from God. The angel Gabriel was said to have delivered tidings to a virgin named Mary, who was to bear the son of God. The archangel Michael is one of the principal angels in Abrahamic tradition; his name was said to have been the war-cry of the angels in the battle fought in heaven against Satan and his followers. Therefore, the name Raphael carries connotations of a healing messenger, with a message of possible divine origin. Taking this into consideration it might appear More professed his Utopia to possess an illuminated culture, and that imitating their society would mean the deliverance of humanity. Deeper exploration of the book shows this isn’t the case at all.<br /><br />More assigned Raphael the surname Hythlodaeus, which when translated from the Latin means “dispenser of nonsense”. So although he may have been named after an angel, a messenger of light, the Raphael Hythlodaeus character is designed to be simply a messenger of nonsense. More’s satiric intent was further underscored when he used this character to describe a country whose name literally means “no place”, and its river of no water and its ruler with no people. Most of the proper names More used in <em>Utopia </em>are words of Greek derivation, invented for More’s purposes. Anydrus (the name of a river in Utopia) means “not water”, and Ademus (the chief magistrate’s title) means “not people”.<br /><br />In the introduction to his translation from the original Latin, Paul Turner states:<br /><blockquote>It is clear from an ironical passage in a letter to Peter Gilles that More expected the educated reader to understand these names; and, to ensure that their significance was not overlooked, he mentioned in the book itself that the Utopian language contains some traces of Greek in place-names and official titles.</blockquote>The implied benefits of divorce, euthanasia, married priests, and women priests, expressed in <em>Utopia</em>, disagreed with More’s celebrated dedication to devout Catholicism. More was a persecutor of heretics (Protestants) yet the book extolled the virtues of embracing varied religions, and even under the same roof. The piece engaged in political criticism, but More himself was Lord Chancellor, an influential English lawyer. Communism and the idea of communal living expressed as an ideal in <em>Utopia</em> could be seen as the opposite view expected from a rich landowner such as More.<br /><br />Satire was an established staple in Medieval and <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Renaissance_literature" rel="wikipedia" title="Renaissance literature">Renaissance literature</a>. These periods gave birth to such greats as Geoffrey Chaucer and <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Miguel_de_Cervantes" rel="wikipedia" title="Miguel de Cervantes">Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra</a>. English pieces from the late Medieval period were aimed primarily at hypocrisy within the church. Even if he did not criticize the church, within the protective walls of satire’s three-cushion punch More was afforded the safety to criticize other religious and political fancies of the day.<br /><h3>Symbolism in Ayn Rand's <em>Anthem</em></h3>Few would dispute that Twentieth Century literature has been impacted by the work of Ayn Rand. Every book written by Ayn Rand is still in print and sales each year number in the hundred thousands. More than 20 million copies of her books have been sold to date.<br /><br />In the summer of 1937 Rand constructed a dystopian tale of mankind in the distant future called <em>Anthem</em>. Unlike More, Rand’s reasons for writing the short novel are fairly transparent; she did not obscure her message through the use of Greek. If her motives are not readily apparent within the story, then the title can easily be broken down to reveal Rand’s motives. An anthem is a piece of music with religious significance. It is often made of scripture, and is sung or recited as a proclamation of faith. In naming her story <em>Anthem</em>, Rand declares its purposes, but in this case these purposes are not religious in the traditional sense of the word. In a letter Rand explains the final two chapters of the book are the actual anthem, and it is obviously an anthem to the individual.<br /><br />The working title Rand used for this short novel was “Ego”. However, as she corresponded in November of 1946 to Richard de Mille:<br /><blockquote>I used the word in its exact, literal meaning, I did not mean a symbol of the self – but specifically and actually Man’s Self.</blockquote>In an introduction to the 50th Anniversary American Edition of <em>Anthem</em>, Leonard Peikoff explains:<br /><blockquote>Although the word ego remains essential to the text, the title was changed to <em>Anthem </em>for publication. This was not an attempt to soften the book; it was a step that Ayn Rand took on every novel. Her working titles were invariably blunt and unemotional, naming explicitly, for her own clarity, the central issue of the book.</blockquote>On another level the names she assigned to her characters, as well as their social significance and assignment within the story, add another layer of meaning to the text. In the world she has created, our own world but in the distant future, people are expected to view themselves only as part of a larger whole, a single cog in a larger machine. The individual is not recognized, and preferences are not permitted. To further this agenda, names are assigned at birth via committee, and are such socially oriented names as “Unity”, “Union” and “International”. No surnames are used, but instead a string of numbers is attached. These names have no individual meaning and are merely used to indicate which cog a person is in the great machine of society.<br /><br />As the story progresses, two of Rand’s characters explore possibilities of the naming convention. Rand uses this realization as a stepping stone toward their ultimate realization and understanding of the concept of an individual. They assign descriptive names, which appear more like titles, such as “The Golden One” and “The Unconquered”. In this case, Rand’s naming choices revealed the characters’ growing understanding of “self”.<br /><br />As Rand’s characters gain further awareness, they begin to explore the symbolic possibilities of an individualized name. Rand’s protagonist names himself Prometheus, symbolic of his attempt to share his light box invention with his brethren and the resulting persecution. Prometheus then names his female partner “Gaea” to symbolically show that she is to be the mother of a new race. The lives of both characters have shown parallels to their mythological-god namesakes, and we are led to expect further godlike parallels from them in the future.<br /><br />Throughout the piece, Rand employs forms of symbolism by means other than name. For instance to deepen the humanistic values of her text, she pulls images from the Bible. Her protagonist pulls light from the heavens and delivers it to his brothers with a message of hope for the future, but is rejected and persecuted. He discovers a word from ancient times, the word “I”, and proclaims it is a god, to be followed and worshiped for its own ends. Rand draws from the Biblical account of Adam and Eve as well. Overall, Rand uses the depth of symbolism to enrich the messages within her text.<br /><h3>Euphemism in Margaret Atwood's <em>The Handmaid's Tale</em></h3>Margaret Atwood is a Booker Prize-Winning author who has received numerous awards and several honorary degrees, including the Canadian Governor General’s Award, Le Chevalier dans l’Ordre des Arts et des Lettres in France, and the National Arts Club Medal of Honor for Literature. Her works have been published in more than twenty-five countries. In her novel <em>The Handmaid’s Tale</em>, Atwood capitalizes on society’s tendency to euphemize difficult situations as a way to gain their general acceptance.<br /><br /><em>The Handmaid’s Tale</em> paints the picture of a dystopia from the then-near future. One of the distinctive features of this world is how names are assigned to a position, a job, and each handmaid assumes that name when they take that job placement. The names of handmaids in the story, such as Offred, Ofwarren, or Ofglen merely show that handmaid is the property of Fred, of Warren, or of Glen; as such, the women are reduced to the level of an object. Just as I may own a car and call it “my car”, when it’s sold a new car takes its place and is given the moniker “my car”; the names of handmaid characters in Atwood’s story show a similar lack of personal regard.<br /><br />While not directly named for their assignments, two other official forms of employment for women are assigned generalized names, the “Aunts” who train the handmaids, and the “Marthas” who run the households. Guards are called “Angels” and men in leadership roles (within the Gilead regime, the government within the story) are called “Commanders”. Atwood utilizes such “friendly” names to assist in hiding the grim realities within the story; such euphemisms as “angels”, “handmaids”, and “aunts” hide the real duties of characters assigned to these positions.<br /><br />In particular, the term “handmaid” is applied to the nameless surrogate mothers forced into slavery to bare children for the country’s sterile elite. The term is taken from the Biblical account of Rachel and Jacob.<br /><blockquote>And when Rachel saw that she bare Jacob no children, Rachel envied her sister; and said unto Jacob, Give me children, or else I die.And Jacob’s anger was kindled against Rachel; and he said, Am I in God’s stead, who hath withheld from thee the fruit of the womb?And she said, Behold my maid Bilhah, go in unto her, and she shall bear upon my knees, that I may also have children by her. (Genesis 30:1-3)</blockquote>Reminiscent of the section titles in Geoffrey Chaucer's medieval narrative poem <em>The Canterbury Tales</em>, where Chaucer's text personalizes his storytellers even though they are identified by their profession, Atwood creates a complex narrator for her story. The complexity of the narrator, Offred, is in contrast to the generic qualities of her name.<br /><blockquote>My name isn’t Offred, I have another name, which nobody uses now because it’s forbidden. I tell myself it doesn’t matter, your name is like your telephone number, useful only to others; but what I tell myself is wrong, it does matter.</blockquote>Atwood utilized other euphemisms to reflect the utilitarian sensibilities of the governing culture within her story. A short Biblical reading and the subsequent act of fornication imposed upon the handmaidens was called a “ceremony”. The resultant babies, when they were not correctly formed or had some other defect, were called “Unbabies”, and women who could not conceive were called “Unwomen”. Assassinations of the rebellious and disobedient were not called executions, but “Salvaging” and were seen merely as an “unpleasant necessity”. Even the handmaids’ slogan, “From each according to her ability; to each according to his needs” could be seen as a euphemism for the reality of slavery which it strove to mask.<br /><br />With such words as these, Margaret Atwood made the dystopian hell of <em>The Handmaid’s Tale</em> seem a place of benevolent inconveniences where anyone could grow accustomed. Ironically, in Atwood’s tale where such occasions as public hangings and slavery can be accepted as commonplace, the simple game of “Scrabble” is viewed as a dangerous, forbidden activity.<br /><h3>A Few More Examples</h3>The use of obscure clarity and the three-cushion shot is not limited to Utopian or dystopian literature. However, whether by the use of satire, symbolism, euphemisms, or some other means, the these genres have drawn a long line across history from their works with hidden, or at least partially veiled, agendas. Where Edward Bellamy’s novel <em>Looking Backward</em> caused the formation of small book discussion groups called “Bellamy Groups” across the nation, its indirect attack on the Industrial Age from whence it came brought new attempts at social reform and affected the future for several generations. In a like manner, George Orwell’s book and the movie version of <em>1984</em> sent reverberations around the globe for introducing the concept of a futuristic “Big Brother” who is always watching us.<br /><br />The use of euphemism as a means of creating obscure clarity may also be seen in the smog-choked dystopian Los Angeles of 2019 in Ridley Scott’s 1982 film, <em>Blade Runner</em>. In this film, a class of androids has been created to perform slave labor on remote planets. In some instances these androids are too smart for their own good and become dangerous. However they are not “exterminated”, despite their decidedly human appearance and actions; the term used for their annihilation is that they are simply “retired”. One could only guess if such a euphemism is applied to the “retirement” of human individuals as well.<br /><h3>A Kinder, Gentler, Message?</h3>The self-proclaimed prophets of our modern society stand on street corners within the city. They hold up their cardboard signs and warn us to “repent.” As we cross their paths we duck our heads and hide our eyes, pretending they are not there and never considering their messages. At the most we might throw a dollar in their hat with the small hope that somehow it will make them go away. Such prophets have always been with us. But other prophets approach us on the literary sidewalks. They capture our imaginations with tales of a time to come and the possibilities of the future. These prophets also warn us of our folly, but we listen carefully. We give these prophets of the literary sidewalk our rapt attention because they do not hit us with their messages head on. These prophets shrewdly approach us and spin their tales with an obscure clarity. They tell us of our folly, but soften the blow with a three-cushion shot so we are not offended. For this sensibility, we regard these writers as our best and brightest, the wise sages among us.<br /><div class="zemanta-pixie" style="height: 15px; margin-top: 10px;"><img alt="" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=24544ce0-b82e-4a1f-b43a-a12fede2e771" style="border: currentColor; float: right;" /></div>Terry Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12072061386395979977noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6665821763723637834.post-51171667785805143562011-06-13T17:00:00.003-07:002022-03-11T23:05:28.267-08:00The Female Gothic in Emily Bronte ' s Novel, " Wuthering Heights "<a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emily_Bront%C3%AB" rel="wikipedia" title="Emily Brontë">Emily Bronte</a>’s <em><a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.amazon.com/Wuthering-Heights-Anniversery-Emily-Bronte/dp/1559946326%3FSubscriptionId%3D0G81C5DAZ03ZR9WH9X82%26tag%3Dzem-20%26linkCode%3Dxm2%26camp%3D2025%26creative%3D165953%26creativeASIN%3D1559946326" rel="amazon" title="Wuthering Heights (40th Anniversery Edition)">Wuthering Heights</a></em> may find its roots in the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gothic_fiction" rel="wikipedia" title="Gothic fiction">Female Gothic</a>, but this novel builds the genre’s typical “female coming of age” theme into a powerful narrative of broader scope and appeal. It takes the basic elements of the genre and expands upon them in a new and unique way. While it could be argued much of the purpose of <em>Wuthering Heights</em> is similar to others within the Female Gothic genre, its treatment of the basic themes has allowed the novel to transcend the limitations experienced by lesser works within the genre.<br /><br />Typical to the Female Gothic there is a castle, and in <em>Wuthering Heights</em> it is no less symbolic than earlier predecessors such as the fortress in <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elizabeth_Bonh%C3%B4te" rel="wikipedia" title="Elizabeth Bonhôte">Elizabeth Bonhote</a>’s earlier novel, <em><a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=52.456,1.436&spn=0.01,0.01&q=52.456,1.436%20%28Bungay%20Castle%29&t=h" rel="geolocation" title="Bungay Castle">Bungay Castle</a></em>. In Female Gothic, images of a castle and its related structures are said to symbolize both the patriarchy and the feminine body. As such, on a symbolic level the female protagonist’s experiences navigating these challenges allows her to move from innocence to experience. While on the surface she is merely exploring the castle and a few mandates by the ruling male, these actions are paralleled on another level as the heroine’s exploration of herself and society. This exploration allows her to assert independence as a sexually adult woman.<br /><br />But Bronte’s heroine in <em>Wuthering Heights</em> does not spend her time exploring the dark caverns below the castle. Instead she navigates the relationships encountered within its confines, and such dark tunnels are no less hazardous than their subterranean counterparts in other novels. Her peril is found more in the dark temperament of <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heathcliff_%28Wuthering_Heights%29" rel="wikipedia" title="Heathcliff (Wuthering Heights)">Heathcliff</a> than in exploring some dark hallway. Heathcliff is a shadow that falls upon the Wuthering Heights domicile, giving it a sinister element which threatens the destruction of its inhabitants; however, that destruction will not come from the castle itself, but from its occupant and master, Heathcliff.<br /><br />In fact, Bronte expands both the role of the castle and the role of the heroine to an extent which makes them almost symbolic of their original purposes within the genre. Different than its earlier cousins, in <em>Wuthering Heights</em> the role of castle could be seen as split between two separate domiciles, the Heights and the nearby Thrushcross Grange. Another split could also be seen in the role of the novel’s heroine; in this case the coming of age may be said to take two generations and two women to accomplish it, <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catherine_Earnshaw" rel="wikipedia" title="Catherine Earnshaw">Catherine Earnshaw</a> and her daughter <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catherine_Linton" rel="wikipedia" title="Catherine Linton">Catherine Linton</a>.<br /><br />While <em>Wuthering Heights</em> may not appear an example of Female Gothic literature at first glance, the most crucial elements of the genre are in place. There is a castle, an oppressed heroine, and the requisite sinister elements. But it is the artistry and talent of Emily Bronte which takes a germ of an idea and develops it into something greater. Bronte produced a novel which not only survives but thrives, unlike many of its elder cousins in the Female Gothic genre.<br /><br />Although he was not born of the place, it could be argued Heathcliff sometimes appears to be at one with the Heights. In Mrs. Dean’s first description of Heathcliff, she deems him “rough as a saw-edge and hard as whinstone”. Like the walls of such a fortress as the Heights, Heathcliff is described as stone. Ultimately, the place bends to his will; Wuthering Heights is transformed from the warm domicile of the Earnshaw family to a gloomy, neglected, and possibly haunted fortress. Therefore, as the Heights’ symbolic Doppleganger, Heathcliff shares in the castle’s role within a Female Gothic novel; he becomes the thing which is explored on the heroine’s way to maturity, the place with mysterious rooms and hallways.<br /><br />The heroine in <em>Wuthering Heights</em>, at least in the first section, is Catherine Earnshaw, and early in the story Cathy is expected to navigate the character of Heathcliff.<br /><blockquote>“Cathy, when she learned the master had lost her whip in attending on the stranger, showed her humour by grinning and spitting at the stupid little thing, earning for her pains a sound blow from her father to teach her cleaner manners.”</blockquote>But she did adjust quickly, and before long Cathy “was much too fond of Heathcliff”. The ensuing relationship, however, did more to stunt the heroine’s growth than to facilitate it.<br /><blockquote>"They both promised fair to grow up rude as savages, the young master being entirely negligent how they behaved, and what they did, so they kept clear of him."</blockquote>In <em>The Waif at the Window: Emily Bronte’s Feminine ‘<a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bildungsroman" rel="wikipedia" title="Bildungsroman">Bildungsroman</a>’</em>, Annette Frederico adds:<br /><blockquote>Catherine and her male soul-mate remain stubbornly adolescent from beginning to end; granted, they are triumphant, rebellious, passionate characters, and Emily Bronte is obviously celebrating the untamed and undisciplined spirit of adolescent love. But in view of this first generation, <em>Wuthering Heights</em> is less a novel of development than a novel of arrested childhood.</blockquote>It is only by physical separation from the twin forces of Wuthering Heights and Heathcliff that Cathy begins to show an interest about her place in the world as an adult. When she is removed to Thrushcross Grange for five weeks, Cathy first begins to explore what she might become later in life, however self-centered that view may still have been. Upon her return she wears the garments of a lady and seems for the first time to consider Heathcliff as something below the station she wishes for herself in life.<br /><blockquote>“She gazed concernedly at the dusky fingers she held in her own, and also at her dress, which she feared had gained no embellishment from its contact with his.”</blockquote>If the Heights is associated with Heathcliff, then it might be easy to say Thrushcross Grange is equally associated with <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edgar_Linton" rel="wikipedia" title="Edgar Linton">Edgar Linton</a>. As such, Edgar Linton and the Grange naturally become the means through which Cathy could leave Heathcliff and the Heights, along with at least a portion of her adolescence, and begin to find her place in the world as an adult.<br /><br />This new fortress is where Cathy might begin to establish some means of control over the patriarchal confines of her childhood. While at the Heights, Cathy tried to establish authority and choose her own destiny by throwing childish fits and tantrums. At the grange Cathy may have intended to exchange the more mature of her feminine charms for power, exercising her control over Edgar to accomplish her wishes. Ultimately, Cathy was unable to leave the emotionally-stunted relationship she shared with Heathcliff, and one of her childish tantrums soon led her to illness and death.<br /><br />Because of her death, Catherine Earnshaw’s tenure at Wuthering Heights and her relationship with Heathcliff would forever remain associated with her childhood and adolescence. The eternal nature of this point is made more certain when Cathy’s ghost later appears to Mr. Lockwood through the window at Wuthering Heights in the form of a child. Bronte’s narrative doesn’t tell us if this is the form which visited Heathcliff in his final days, but if so we might assume his death was a necessary step allowing him to return to the spiritual shape of his childhood. By crossing into the spirit world he too could take the childlike form closer to his own emotional development, becoming forever a playmate and companion to his beloved Cathy.<br /><br />Aside from the castle’s role as a patriarchal symbol in the Female Gothic, it is often seen as a symbol of the heroine’s feminine body as well. If indeed Heathcliff and Wuthering Heights are to be seen as one, or at least deeply associated with each other, this symbolic convention takes on interesting implications in <em>Wuthering Heights</em>. If the physical qualities of the Heights are to parallel the heroine’s own body, then by implication Heathcliff would be equally a representation of Catherine Earnshaw. This might account for Cathy’s explanation:<br /><blockquote>It would degrade me to marry Heathcliff now; so he shall never know how I love him; and that, not because he’s handsome, Nelly, but because he’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same; and Linton’s is as different as a moonbeam from lightning, or frost from fire.</blockquote>This same conversation later builds to Cathy’s emphatic claim, “I am Heathcliff". In this statement, the possibility Bronte intended her readers to view a symbolic physical connection between the two characters becomes even more probable.<br /><br />But if this is true, the question remains how Cathy’s exploration of Heathcliff might symbolize the exploration of her physical self. A physical relationship between Heathcliff and Cathy is never mentioned in this novel, but neither is it mentioned between Cathy and Edgar even though they have a child together. Is it possible Cathy’s emotional development is stunted while at Wuthering Heights because her relationship with Heathcliff never advances to a physical level?<br /><br />We could speculate if Cathy had married Heathcliff she might have learned more of herself, and with that knowledge she might have become a mature adult. Unfortunately, that is not the road Cathy immediately chose, and her death came too early for such lessons to be explored later.<br /><br />But while Catherine Earnshaw-Linton’s death occurs in Chapter 16, it could be argued Bronte did not kill off her heroine so early in the novel. Cathy’s daughter not only shares her name, but bears a striking resemblance to her; Heathcliff later notes a resemblance which causes him to turn his face from her. It is possible Bronte intended the connection to be so strong the Female Gothic’s requisite journey from adolescence to womanhood is continued, and completed, in her heroine’s daughter. Perhaps Cathy’s separation from Wuthering Heights and Heathcliff could only be achieved through a baptism consisting of death and rebirth.<br /><br />In <em>Wuthering Heights as a Victorian Novel</em>, Arnold Shapiro writes:<br /><blockquote>Symbolically, [the second half of the novel] begins with a birth, Catherine Linton's, which is described in much the same terms as was the entrance of Heathcliff. . . . Though the language is an echo of the past, however, Cathy turns out to be the representative of a new generation, and without the author's being foolishly optimistic, of a new set of values, an answer to the old ways.</blockquote>Annette Frederico’s <em>The Waif at the Window: Emily Bronte’s Feminine ‘Bildungsroman’</em> adds:<br /><blockquote>It is actually with Catherine's death in childbirth that Bronte's Bildungsroman begins. In fact, the second half of <em>Wuthering Heights</em> and the concern with young Cathy is a fascinating variation of the prototypic novel of female education in the nineteenth century, a dramatization of the struggle to relinquish childhood for the duties of womanhood in the most traditional, romantic capacity: marriage with the man of one's choice.</blockquote>Young Catherine is not a child of Wuthering Heights, but of Thrushcross Grange. She is not susceptible to Heathcliff and has been sheltered from his influences. Because of this, she is able to carry the torch passed to her by her mother, emerging from a happy childhood as an assertive, contented adult. As such, Catherine becomes a contented adult, prepared to accept the responsibilities and limitations of marriage in a way her mother never achieved.<br /><br />Catherine’s road is not always smooth. In <em>Heroines of Nineteenth-Century Fiction: The Two Catherines of Emily Bronte</em>, William Howells writes:<br /><blockquote>Charlotte Bronte created the impassioned heroine, as I have called Jane Eyre, and Emily Bronte created the lawless heroine, like the two Catherines, but all their heroines measurably shared in the fascination which brutality, the false image of strength, seems to have for weakness. In these characters they changed the ideal of fiction for many a long day, and established the bullied heroine in a supremacy which she held till the sinuous heroine began softly but effectually to displace her.</blockquote><em>Wuthering Heights</em> holds true to the Female Gothic genre’s aim to socialize and educate its female readers, as well as its tendency to express criticism of male-dominated, patriarchal structures. It capitalizes upon the unique abilities of the Female Gothic to explore the role of women in society. Typical to the genre, Wuthering Heights ends with its heroine wrapped in what we may suppose to be a state of marital bliss. But be that as it may, Bronte’s two Catherines are far from the fainting Gothic heroine; her Catherines are the mythical Phoenix who ends in a fire of passion, and is reborn. Through this baptism of death and reincarnation, Bronte shuns the voyeuristic victimization of women which characterizes much of the Male Gothic. Bronte does not spend much time directly criticizing the patriarchal system, but in <em>Wuthering Heights</em> she finds a means for rising above it, much like she and her sisters found a way to rise above their own contemporary male-dominated world in general, and the limitations it sought to place on female writers in particular.<br /><br />Bronte’s gothic castle also transcends its archetype, in essence taking on human character through the form and nature of Heathcliff, a shadow which descends upon it and becomes its master; in doing so, the place becomes an active participant in the story. Just as the surrounding moors shape the nature of its inhabitants with their harsh realities, the Heights shapes the nature of its residents, conforming them to the will of its master.<br /><br />Comparisons have naturally been made between Emily Bronte’s <em>Wuthering Heights</em> and her sister Charlotte’s <em>Jane Eyre</em>. Both tell the story of an orphan who is taken in by the well-meaning patriarch of a wealthy family, but is rejected by most or all of the others in that household. From there both stories describe how such a childhood can shape this character into adulthood, and it may be argued neither of these characters ever achieved full maturity. The works of both sisters are generally considered excellent examples of the Gothic novel, delivering the expected goods and advancing the genre through thoughtful and innovative treatment of these elements.<br /><br />But even though Charlotte’s novel was the more successful of the two initially, in the end it is <em>Wuthering Heights</em> which has found a place in our culture’s collective consciousness. These are the characters we relate to and the love story we remember. This is the romance which translated into one of Hollywood’s all-time classic movies. Of the two, it is the book more students study in high school English, or college literature classes. In the end, it is Emily Bronte’s skill in narration, characterization, and innovation that delivered this story into our hearts; Bronte took the basic elements of the Female Gothic genre, and transformed them into one of the great classics of English literature.<br /><br /><div class="zemanta-pixie" style="height: 15px; margin-top: 10px;"><img alt="" class="zemanta-pixie-img at-xid-6a00e54ef845f68833014e8929a99c970d" src="http://terryheath.typepad.com/.a/6a00e54ef845f68833014e8929a99c970d-pi" style="border: currentColor; float: right;" /></div>Terry Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12072061386395979977noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6665821763723637834.post-57169988739551373302011-06-13T17:00:00.002-07:002022-03-11T23:05:28.267-08:00Hardboiled Crime Fiction and Writers on the HalfshellGiven enough time, a hypothetical chimpanzee typing at random would, as part of its output, almost surely produce one of today’s mass-market novels. Of course, these novels might never form a series with titles that conveniently fall into alphabetical order, and they're not likely to be about cats who do various unusual things to solve crimes, but the monkeys might not be too far off. That isn’t to say great fiction doesn’t exist within the book section of our local grocery store, but even so it could easily be argued a great deal of fluff and filler dominates those tiled aisles.<br /><br />Today the intricacies of publishing and distribution are executed at speeds never before attained. With this speed comes an efficiency which keeps publishing costs down. Books are available to a previously unimaginable mass market. This speed and access to media has also shortened the average reader's attention span, so today's bestseller is often forgotten tomorrow. With this speed a pressure is placed upon publishers to meet the public's demand for new and exciting fiction. Writers must become sensations overnight and then are forgotten as quickly.<br /><br />Gone are the magazines and pulp fiction houses where young writers were once nurtured; today it seems a new writer must spring forth on the scene fully developed like a literary Venus on the half shell. With the rush to create a frenzy, to write the book with the biggest buzz, writers and publishing houses seem to place quantity before quality. The author who can crank out the most books with the most plot twists, wins. The writer who can appeal to the broadest common denominator becomes a household name at a time when names can become part of a household overnight. But this Venus mentality deprives authors of places where their writing can grow.<br /><h3>An Incubator for Writers</h3><br />The late 19th century’s vastly increased mechanization of printing, the growth of efficient rail and canal shipping, and ever-growing rates of literacy gave rise to a demand for stories which had never been paralleled in earlier times. In response to this demand, “quantity over quality” seemed to be a mantra of that era's publishing industry. But occasionally a phoenix rises from destruction, producing something which endures, and near the end of the 19th century a magazine called <em>The Strand</em> produced Arthur Conan Doyle’s “<a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sherlock_Holmes" rel="wikipedia" title="Sherlock Holmes">Sherlock Holmes</a>”. Many well-known 20th century authors came from pulp fiction of the 1920s-1950s: <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dashiell_Hammett" rel="wikipedia" title="Dashiell Hammett">Dashiell Hammett</a>, Erle Stanley Gardner, <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Raymond_Chandler" rel="wikipedia" title="Raymond Chandler">Raymond Chandler</a> and Carroll John Daly emerged from the pages of a magazine called <em><a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_Mask_%28magazine%29" rel="wikipedia" title="Black Mask (magazine)">Black Mask</a></em>. Great detective action came from such competing publications as <em>Dime Detective</em>, <em>Thrilling Detective</em>, or <em>Ten Detective Aces</em>. <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Isaac_Asimov" rel="wikipedia" title="Isaac Asimov">Isaac Asimov</a>, Frederic Pohl, L. Sprague de Camp and Robert E. Howard found outlets for their stories in <em>Argosy</em>, <em><a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fantastic_Stories" rel="wikipedia" title="Fantastic Stories">Fantastic Stories</a></em>, <em>Weird Tales</em> and <em>Galaxy</em>, while Zane Grey, Luke Short and Max Brand were found in <em>Lariat Stories</em>, <em>Western Stories</em>, or <em>Star Western</em>.<br /><h3>Three Pillars of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hardboiled" rel="wikipedia" title="Hardboiled">Hardboiled Crime Fiction</a></h3><br />Joseph T. Shaw, chief editor of <em>Black Mask</em>, described its typical reader as a stalwart, rugged specimen of humanity – hard as nails, swift of hand and foot, clear-eyed, unprovocative, but ready to tackle anything that gets in the way. Such readers, Shaw contended, despise injustice and cowardly underhandedness and cheer for the right guy to come out on top. This profile became the model for authors who wrote for the publication. A few of this magazine’s writers developed this model to the level of art, creating a new genre in the world of serious literature, a genre called <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hardboiled" rel="wikipedia" title="Hardboiled">hardboiled crime fiction</a>. Hardboiled crime fiction has proven one of the more enduring remnants of the pulp fiction era.<br /><br />Throughout the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.history.com/topics/great-depression" rel="historycom" title="Great Depression">Great Depression</a> and two World Wars, pulp fiction promised an escape from the mundane. For one thin dime, readers could enter the world of gangsters and good guys, cowboys and cattlemen, spaceships and star travelers. Words from the pens of some of the era’s best writers were available at every dry goods store and newsstand. But now those wars are over, and the Great Depression is just a memory, so why do the works of so many authors from this period remain listed among the classics?<br /><br />Three pillars of the early hardboiled scene are often seen in Dashiell Hammett, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_M._Cain" rel="wikipedia" title="James M. Cain">James M. Cain</a>, and Raymond Chandler. Where Hammet is said to have originated the consummate hardboiled detective of the hardboiled novel, Chandler is said to have refined him. James M. Cain’s seminal contribution is thought by many to have helped distinguish the genre’s literary merit; his contribution is so earthy he is sometimes called “the twenty-minute egg of the hardboiled school.”<br /><h3>Ace Performer, Dashiel Mammett</h3><br />For several years Dashiell Hammett cut his teeth writing for <em>Black Mask</em>, taking his own experiences working as a detective for the Pinkerton Agency and turning them into stories. It was at <em>Black Mask</em> that Hammett introduced an unnamed character referred to as "the Continental Op", the antithesis of glamorous all-knowing investigators. This detective lacked the eloquence of Sherlock Holmes, but his rough speech and matter-of-fact attitude became incredibly popular with the reading public. Hammett incorporated "Op" into a full-length novel in 1928 called <em>Red Harvest</em>. The voice in <em>Red Harvest</em> was both penetrating and off-the-cuff. The raw and unadorned style of this psychological thriller became known as "hard boiled".<br /><blockquote>"If I don't get away soon I'll be going blood simple like the natives," says the Op. "I've arranged a killing or two in my time, when they were necessary. But this is the first time I've ever got the fever".</blockquote><br />As Raymond Borde and Etienne Chaumeton point out in “Towards a Definition of Film Noir”, prior to World War II convention dictated a beautiful heroine and an honest hero; we expected a clear line between good and bad, as well as clear motives, and the action should develop logically. But similar to his other writing, Dashiell Hammett's 1930 hardboiled crime novel <em>The Maltese Falcon</em> delivers a flawed hero with a murderous heroine. There is no Superman with a chaste fiancée, but somehow still we care about them; we seem to have misplaced our moral compass.<br /><br />Although Dashiell Hammet produced only five novels he is remembered as one of the most influential writers of his time. While the intellectualized mysteries of earlier detective novels gave us the arm-chair sleuth who solved crime at a safe distance from danger, Hammett gave us somewhat less-than-glamorous realism. Hammett's 1934 novel <em>The Thin Man</em> was repeatedly censored for its depiction of a couple living a liquor-soaked open. Because of Hammet's explorations in realism, the hard boiled genre represented a serious response to the urban culture of the day.<br /><br />Raymond Chandler summarized Hammett's accomplishments:<br /><blockquote>"Hammett was the ace performer... He is said to have lacked heart; yet the story he himself thought the most of [The Glass Key] is the record of a man's devotion to a friend. He was spare, frugal, hard-boiled, but he did over and over again what only the best writers can ever do at all. He wrote scenes that seemed never to have been written before.”</blockquote><br /><h3>The Twenty-Minute Egg of the Hardboiled School, James M. Cain</h3><br />David Madden referred to James M. Cain as "the twenty-minute egg of the hardboiled school." Cain's writing style is hard boiled, pared down to essential phrases with terse, almost brutal simplicity.<br /><br />However, Cain resented the categorization and stated he merely tried to write the way real people talk. He further explained his writing style:<br /><blockquote>I, so far as I can sense the pattern of my mind, write of the wish that comes true, for some reason a terrifying concept, at least to my imagination. I think my stories have some quality of the opening of a forbidden box.</blockquote><br />The content of Cain's forbidden box, according to W. M. Frohock in <em>The Novel of Violence in America: 1920-1950</em> "Invariably turns out to be sex, experienced with perfect animal intensity, sometimes with a little hint of the abnormal or the forbidden about it."<br /><br />Although Cain kept his stance, insisting to Zinsser and other interviewers his interest was not in violence, Frohock argued "Sex, so conceived, is inseparable from violence. Violence is at once associated with the sexual act itself, and made an inevitable accompaniment of anything which tends to frustrate the sexual experience. In addition violence stimulates sexual activity, as in the scene of Nick's murder [<em>The Postman Always Rings Twice</em>]. For Cain, sex and violence are not so much subjects as necessary accessories of the plot."<br /><br />In "It's Chinatown", Kevin Starr describes the typical Cain story:<br /><blockquote>A Cain story rushes forward with the headlong pace of a writer who has left everything save narrative on the cutting room floor. Yet we put Cain down with a conviction of social density and accomplished experience; for he triggers in us an act of imaginative cooperation. Convinced that Cain's fables of lust, murder and money are true to the epistructure of life in the urban-industrial complex, the reader amplifies and visualizes the details, like a director working from the bare bones of a story line.... Hollywood transformed Cain's cinematic narratives into great movies, and the movies in turn conferred upon the Cain canon a more ample and substantial life than it would have had on its own. Reading Cain, then, is a mixed media event . . .. (pp. 31-2)</blockquote><br />The narrative in a James M. Cain novel almost never stops the showing to tell. He is overtly tough in diction and action. In <em>The Postman Always Rings Twice</em> Frank and Cora have just murdered her husband Nick. The narrative is quick, just the murder's essential actions, and ends with this scene:<br /><blockquote>I began to fool with her blouse, to bust the buttons, so she would look banged up. She was looking at me, and her eyes didn't look blue, they looked black. I could feel her breath coming fast. Then it stopped, and she leaned real close to me.<br /><br />"Rip me! Rip me!"<br /><br />I ripped her. I shoved my hand in her blouse and jerked. She was wide open, from her throat to her belly.<br /><br />"You got that climbing out. You caught it in the door handle."<br /><br />My voice sounded queer, like it was coming out of a tin phonograph.<br /><br />"And this you don't know how you got."<br /><br />I hauled off and hit her in the eye as hard as I could. She went down. She was right there at my feet, her eyes shining, her breasts trembling, drawn up in tight points, and pointing right up at me. She was down there, and the breath was roaring in the back of my throat like I was some kind of a animal, and my tongue was all swelled up in my mouth, and blood pounding in it.<br /><br />"Yes! Yes, Frank, yes!"<br /><br />Next thing I knew, I was down there with her, and we were staring in each other's eyes, and locked in each other's arms, and straining to get closer. Hell could have opened for me then, and it wouldn't have made any difference. I had to have her, if I hung for it.<br /><br />I had her.</blockquote><br />Of his generation's tough-guy writers, Hammett and Chandler included, Cain offers the most brutal, elemental, and deeply pessimistic view of human events and possibilities. His narrative has the impersonal objectivity of the camera eye. Aesthetic distance is created from his neutral and dispassionate attitude toward the basic elements of his novels. These techniques force us back to the pure experience itself.<br /><br />"Cain and other hard-boiled writers," Madden explained, "wrote not only about but mainly to the masses, giving violent impetus to their forbidden dreams, dramatizing their darkest temptations and their basic physical drives."<br /><br />William Rose Benet likened Cain's characters to the people you read about in the daily newspapers. "They are chiefly stupid, slightly pathetic, capable of rape, arson, or murder in a sort of dumb, driven way. They have glimmers of decency, passions that overcome them, and are chiefly selfish and morally composed of gelatin while being big, husky brutes to outward view."<br /><br />Cain's novels were populated with, if not realistic, at least life-like characters. Like other novelists of the 1930s, Cain moved to Hollywood to write for the movies. But once there, he looked around and noted what he saw. Although he had tried to write fiction for more than a decade prior, this reflection on his surroundings produced his breakthrough with the 1934 publication of <em>The Postman Always Rings Twice</em>, arguably one of the finest moments of depression-era literature.<br /><h3>The Gentleman of Hardboiled Detective Fiction, Raymond Chandler</h3><br />Raymond Chandler has been labeled American literature's finest writer of hard-boiled detective fiction. His first novel <em>The Big Sleep</em> contained language foreign to the pulp fiction which gave it birth. It’s a tough, cynical language, but with a touch of poetry. Marlowe’s consideration of death (the “big sleep” of the title) echoes <em>Hamlet</em>: “To sleep, perchance to dream- ay, there’s the rub<em>."</em><br /><blockquote>You were dead, you were sleeping the big sleep, you were not bothered by things like that, oil and water were the same as wind and air to you. You just slept the big sleep, not caring about the nastiness of how you died or where you fell. Me, I was part of the nastiness now. Far more a part of it than Rusty Regan was.</blockquote><br />Ross Macdonald, Chandler's admirer and literary heir declared in his introduction to Matthew J. Bruccoli's <em>Kenneth Millar/Ross Macdonald: A Checklist</em>, Chandler was a "slumming angel" who transformed the detective story into a critique of American culture's more base aspects. Chandler’s signature style featured bare, sparse, ironic sentences. His narrative conveyed a feeling many subsequent authors have tried to forge.<br /><blockquote>She wore brownish speckled tweeds, a mannish shirt and tie, hand-carved walking shoes. Her stockings were just as sheer as the day before, but she wasn't showing as much of her legs. Her black hair was glossy under a brown Robin Hood hat that might have cost fifty dollars and looked as if you could have made it with one hand out of a desk blotter.</blockquote><br />Often, plot and characterization are rocketed forward in the span of a few sentences. Chandler’s descriptions paint vivid characters using a minimum of words:<br /><blockquote>Vivian is spoiled, exacting, smart and quite ruthless. Carmen is a child who likes to pull wings off flies. Neither of them has anymore moral sense than a cat. Neither have I. No Sternwood ever had.</blockquote><br />Even though Chandler's heroes changed little, remaining the same grizzled romantics holding to an ideal of gallantry, his storytelling developed through important changes. In the 1930s Chandler's stories centered more and more on the protagonists' struggle toward moral equilibrium. In the 1935 novel <em>Killer in the Rain</em> Chandler increased the hero's alienation and ethical predicament through first-person narration, a technique often borrowed by later authors.<br /><br />But Chandler himself reworked devices from his predecessor Dashiell Hammett. While more verbally adventurous than Hammett, Chandler borrowed his hero-as-narrator device while producing an original narrative pattern which blended underworld vernacular with poetry. As Peter Wolfe wrote in <em>Something More than Night: The Case of Raymond Chandler</em>, Chandler created a darkly lyrical prose that turned his stories into "metaphors of the urban nightmare."<br /><br />Chandler worked to move detective fiction away from the "whodunit" mentality. In his essay "The Simple Art of Murder," Chandler lambasted the fashionable whodunits as "middling-dull, pooped-out piece[s] of utterly unreal and mechanical fiction," and he advocated the study of crimes rooted in "the seamy side of things"--of murders perpetrated by "the kind of people that commit it for reasons, not just to provide a corpse."<br /><br />Chandler left a legacy of evocative power and metaphoric energy to the regional literature of southern California, making it stand as an emblem of the latent pathologies of American life. He created enduring images of the dark forces of contemporary experience.<br /><br />Biographer Frank MacShane summarized Chandler's achievement by calling him "a prophet of modern America," one whose vision "has become increasingly fulfilled."<br /><h3>Where Can Today's Writer Mature?</h3><br />Magazines like <em>Black Mask</em>, which developed writers like Hammett and Chandler, have fallen along the wayside. The pulp fiction publications which nurtured James M. Cain have disappeared and there does not seem to be a large-scale replacement in sight. Because stories can now be so easily published in books, magazines have turned to other mass-appeal topics. Small publishing houses cannot compete with the mega mass market publishers, and have turned to other material. But while today’s Venus novelists might appear on the scene, and in the book racks, fully grown, are they fully mature as well? Is it possible for them to mature without the requisite time for development?<br /><br />A new novel can appear in homes across the country in a matter of days. So if an author achieves overnight success on such a large scale, will that author often have the motivation necessary to deepen his craft? It doesn't seem likely. There isn’t time, since the first book will soon be forgotten and another must be written to take its place. What once seemed a blessing, the ability to mass produce and distribute large works of fiction, may have become the literary world's ultimate curse. Not only that, but with the new-found popularity of electronic books and readers, the curse seems destined to intensify.<br /><br />Hardboiled crime fiction of the depression era was born of unique circumstances in the publishing world, nourished by the unique and imaginative responses of its writers. But without a similar place to grow, today's writers may not be afforded the opportunity to match the innovation of Hammett, Cain, and Chandler.<br /><div class="zemanta-pixie" style="height: 15px; margin-top: 10px;"><img alt="" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=506332fd-5f6b-4675-a403-cb7979663ec4" style="border: medium none; float: right;" /></div>Terry Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12072061386395979977noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6665821763723637834.post-62328036561018134772011-06-13T17:00:00.001-07:002022-03-11T23:05:28.268-08:00Anti-Semitism and Satire in Chaucer ' s " The Prioress ' Tale "<br />The legendary English child martyr, Little Saint <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hugh_of_Lincoln" rel="wikipedia" title="Hugh of Lincoln">Hugh of Lincoln</a>, died August 27, 1255. The 9-year-old boy had been found dead in a well, the victim of an anonymous murder. A story soon followed that a Jew named Koppin had imprisoned and tortured the boy for more than a month, eventually crucifying him. The body had supposedly been thrown in the well because the earth refused to receive it. Although there was little factual evidence to substantiate the story, legend states the boy was murdered for ritual purposes.<br />More than 90 Jews were subsequently arrested and charged with the practice of ritualistic murder, and Koppin, who is said to have confessed, was executed along with 18 others. Soon after the body was discovered, miracles were attributed to Hugh.<br />The story grew in popularity as well as detail and in time an anti-Semitic cult grew around the legend. Hugh’s martyrdom became a popular subject in Medieval Literature, but the name does not appear in the standard Butler’s Lives of the Saints (1998).<br /><i><a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Prioress%27s_Tale" rel="wikipedia" title="The Prioress's Tale">The Prioress’ Tale</a></i>, from <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Geoffrey_Chaucer" rel="wikipedia" title="Geoffrey Chaucer">Geoffrey Chaucer</a>’s <i><a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Canterbury_Tales" rel="wikipedia" title="The Canterbury Tales">The Canterbury Tales</a></i> is perhaps the most notable among stories which drew from the legend about Little Saint Hugh of Lincoln. In Chaucer’s version, the story is told by a nun, a Prioress, who is one of the pilgrims on their way from Southwark to the shrine of <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Becket" rel="wikipedia" title="Thomas Becket">St. Thomas Becket</a> in Canterbury Cathedral, a popular travel destination of the time. But although Chaucer’s version is not as long as many of the other stories in <i>The Canterbury Tales</i>, its association with the Hugh of Lincoln legend has made it one of the more controversial.<br />Unfortunately, the original legend is a clear example of anti-Semitism, and although the Prioress merely retells the original story, modern readers ask Chaucer to answer for its inclusion among his works. Chaucer is not afforded the privilege many authors enjoy which allows their separation from the characters they create; while others may write of murder without being called murderers themselves, this particular story is often quoted to accuse Chaucer himself of holding and promoting anti-Semitic views.<br />But the question arises, is it a fair accusation? Can an author draw upon the canon of existing legend without being seen as sympathetic to that legend’s particular views? Does the legend’s inclusion make Chaucer, or even his Prioress character, anti-Semitic as well? While there is little doubt the original tale shows a certain amount of prejudice against Jews, could Chaucer have used the story for another purpose entirely?<br />In this essay we will look at the anti-Semitic aspects of the legend about <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Little_Saint_Hugh_of_Lincoln" rel="wikipedia" title="Little Saint Hugh of Lincoln">Little Hugh of Lincoln</a>, as Chaucer presented it in his <i>Canterbury Tales</i>. Once the tale’s difficulties are presented, we will take a look at the character who tells it, the Prioress, and explore what her purposes might have been in bringing this story to the table. By doing so, we can decide if the Prioress, and by association Chaucer, are truly spreading bigotry and racial hatred or had some other end in mind.<br />I would argue the later is the case; I would argue both the Prioress and Chaucer had another end in mind, although both ends were certainly not the same.<br />After the Holocaust, is the subject of anti-Semitism so emotionally charged that it is the one topic a writer cannot touch without leaving blood on his own hands? Chaucer is not alone in this struggle; Shakespeare is sometimes accused of anti-Semitic sympathies for of his creation of Shylock in <i>The Merchant of Venice</i>. But should we use what is largely a nineteenth century idea to condemn those who came before? Can those who lived prior to invention of the term be guilty of its practice?<br />In his essay, <i>Madame Eglentyne, Geoffrey Chaucer, and the Problem of Medieval Anti-Semitism</i>, Philip S. Alexander wrote:<br /><blockquote>The term 'anti-Semitism' itself did not emerge till the late nineteenth century, when it was used by the proponents of a world-view (widely deemed then as acceptable), which embraced three main tenets: first, <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Secular_Jewish_culture" rel="wikipedia" title="Secular Jewish culture">Jewish culture</a> is inferior to Germanic culture; second, the Jews are plotting to undermine Germanic culture and to foist their own cultural values on society; and, third, in the interests of progress and civilization society has a duty to defend itself against Jewish domination and to purge itself of decadent Jewish culture. Nineteenth-century anti-Semitism was often racist in that it espoused the belief that culture and race were interconnected, and so the inferior Jewish culture was seen as the product of inferior Jewish genes. However, racism, in this precise technical sense, was not fundamental to the anti-Semitic point of view.</blockquote><br />If the term did not exist, might we conclude the problem was not anti-Semitism as much as anti-Judaism? It is clear medieval society was deeply influenced by Christianity, and it is popular to dismiss malice against <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jews_in_the_Middle_Ages" rel="wikipedia" title="Jews in the Middle Ages">Jews in the Middle Ages</a> as religious zeal, holding that the Medieval <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.history.com/topics/anti-semitism" rel="historycom" title="Anti-Semitism">hatred of Jews</a> existed only for their religious practices, and pointing out how Medieval Jews could be redeemed if they converted to Christianity.<br />It could be more correct to say the idea Medieval Jews could be redeemed and accepted in England by converting to Christianity looked good on paper, but didn’t always play out in reality. In reality, conversion did not always save a Jew from harassment, or even death. The Spanish “conversos”, who adopted the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christianity" rel="wikipedia" title="Christianity">Christian religion</a> after severe persecution in the late thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries, and were expelled from Spain in 1390, were still identified as Jews in the minds of many Roman Catholic churchmen.<br />While there is evidence Jews and Christians lived together in peace during the early Medieval times, marrying and sharing both language and culture, by the early 11th century Jews in various parts of Europe faced violence and forced conversions. In 1215, Pope Innocent III declared Jews to be in perpetual servitude for the killing of Christ. In the fourth Lateran Council of 1215, Jews were ordered to wear distinctive clothing and forbidden to hold public office or to appear in public during the final three days of the Easter season. After the discovery and burning of the Talmud by Christians in the 13th century, the Jews were considered heretics for their acceptance of the document and the church had already started the Inquisition as a Crusade against heresy. Prior to that time, the church believed Jews should remain until the end of time to be witnesses to the truth of Christian revelation. However, by the thirteenth century theological justification for their continued existence had begun to waiver.<br />Regardless of its place in history, support for the labeling of <i>The Prioress’ Tale</i> as anti-Semitic literature seems to be readily available within the tale itself. The Prioress repeatedly refers to the Jews as “cursed”, which seems to refer to the curse they called down upon their own heads when they goaded Pilate into crucifying Jesus:<br /><blockquote>When Pilate saw that he could prevail nothing, but that rather a tumult was made, he took water, and washed his hands before the multitude, saying, I am innocent of the blood of this just person: see ye to it. Then answered all the people, and said, His blood be on us, and on our children (Matthew 27:24f).</blockquote><br />Similarly, the Prioress invites us to draw parallels between the Jews’ murder of Little Hugh and their ancestors’ involvement with the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crucifixion_of_Jesus" rel="wikipedia" title="Crucifixion of Jesus">crucifixion of Christ</a>. We are invited to view this little devotee of the Virgin Mary as a representation of her son, and associate his murder with the crucifixion of Jesus. While there is no ritualistic murder in Chaucer, legends associated with the original legend do involve ritual and clearly imply a connection with, and possibly a mockery of, the ritualized crucifixion of Christ.<br />The tale’s line, “The blood out crieth on youre cursed dede” seems a to present an echo of the Bible’s Cain and Abel story, drawing from the point when God said to Cain:<br /><blockquote>What hast thou done? The voice of thy brother's blood crieth unto me from the ground. And now thou art cursed from the earth, which hath opened her mouth to receive thy brother's blood from thy hand . . . a fugitive and a vagabond shalt thou be in the earth. And Cain said unto the Lord, My punishment is greater than I can bear. Behold thou has driven me out this day from the face of the earth; and from thy face shall I be hid; and I shall be a fugitive and a vagabond in the earth; and it shall come to pass, that everyone that findeth me shall slay me (Genesis 4:10-14).</blockquote><br />In Christian exegesis Cain is frequently seen to typify the Jew (the wanderer rejected by both God and man) and Abel is taken as a type of the just man. Able is seen to represent the Christian, or more significantly Christ, on whom the Jew tries to vent his spite. Inclusion of this reference in <i>The Prioress’ Tale</i> seems to strengthen the intended connection between the curgeon and the Christ.<br />Parallels between Christ and Little Hugh may also stand behind the Provost’s swift judgment upon the Jews. Much like the Jews’ murder of Christ is said to have brought a curse, their murder of the clergeon brought a “cursednesse” upon them as well.<br /><blockquote>With torment and with shameful deeth echon,<br />This provost dooth thise Jewes for to sterve<br />That of this mordre wiste, and that anon.<br />He nolde no swich cursednesse observe.<br />"Yvele shal have that yvele wol deserve";<br />Therfore with wilde hors he dide hem drawe,<br />And after that he heng them by the lawe.</blockquote><br />These attempts to create an association between the clergeon and Christ seem calculated to remind us of how it was the Jews who had Jesus crucified, just as they were reported to have had Hugh of Lincoln slain. Similar examples of anti-Semitic thought seem to stack up throughout "The Prioress’ Tale". We are presented with lines which seem to connect the tale both with King Herod’s attempt to kill the infant Jesus, which instead resulted in the slaughter of innocent children, and the descendants of Herod whose crucifixion of Christ did not stop his message from being carried forward.<br /><blockquote>O cursed folk of Herod come again,<br />Of what avail your villainous intent?</blockquote><br />The lines, “His mother, swooning as they went along / Beside the bier, could not be reconciled, / A second Rachel, weeping for her child” seem to echo the application in Matthew 2:18 of Jeremiah 40:1 to the slaughter of the innocents:<br /><blockquote>In Rama was there a voice heard, lamentation, and weeping, and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children, and would not be comforted, because they were not.</blockquote><br />The Prioress also reminds reader of scenes from mystery plays in which devils incite the Hebrews to demand the death of Jesus:<br /><blockquote>First of our foes, the Serpent Satan shook<br />Those Jewish hearts that are his waspish nest,<br />Swelled up and said, ‘O Hebrew people look!<br />Is this not something that should be redressed?<br />Is such a boy to roam as he thinks best<br />Singing to spite you, canticles and saws<br />Against the reverence of your holy laws?</blockquote><br />On the surface, all of these references seemingly amount to damnable evidence against Chaucer, the Prioress, and the case of anti-Semitism. It seems all these forces have joined, through the pen of one, to condemn the Jews as a whole for the murder of Christ, and the murder of the clergeon. We hear the Prioress, a nun from the upper echelon of the church, condemning the Jews in a bigoted and prejudiced voice, and condoning their destruction. Further, since there does not seem to be a clear disclaimer where Chaucer indicates the story’s views are not his own.<br />However, when we try to understand a work such as <i>The Prioress’ Tale</i>, as well as <i>The Canterbury Tales</i> as a whole, it is important to remember they are both in fact more than 600 years old. To assume Chaucer’s characters held the same opinions, morals, and philosophies as the average modern reader is to deny the more than 600 years of thought, history, and discovery which has shaped and molded the “modern mind”. If we approach the Prioress with a post-Holocaust mindset, and ask it to answer to post-Holocaust sensibilities, isn’t it possible we could be hypersensitive to the tale’s references to Jews? If we overlay the Prioress’ story with a filter created by 600 years of changes in religious thought, we might assume she tells it from a platform of vanity, hypocrisy, and possibly even heresy; we are apt to see the Prioress as someone far from Christian ideals, at least as we see such things today.<br />To discover the true intent behind Chaucer’s work, lacking such an explanation from Chaucer himself, we could study the art and fashion of his time. Understanding Medieval art and fashion might shed some light on Chaucer’s use of the legend, and his reasons for causing the Prioress to tell it, if we can remain open minded. No work of art springs from the mind of its creator fully grown, like Venus on the half shell; it is the product of the community, the society, and the world which existed at the time of its birth. To fully understand any work of art, we must try to understand at least something of its world.<br />In literary criticism, art history, and historical analysis of the mid to late fourteenth century, we hear a recurring theme of ritual and the ascendancy of emotion over the rational. Although a simplification of complex processes not restricted to that century, this shift in emphasis leaves us with the distinct impression that the Middle Ages valued emotion as the sure road to the knowledge of God.<br />David Knowles, Regius Professor of Modern History at the University of Cambridge from 1954 to 1963, calls the Ockhamite revolution in Medieval thought (named after the 14th-century English logician and Franciscan friar William of Ockham) the "triumph of nominalism". This revolution denied the possibility for rational demonstrations of the truths in natural religion. Preeminent scholar of Chaucerian and medieval literature, Charles Musçatine, summarizes the thought of the age with:<br /><blockquote>The cleavage between reason and faith, characteristic of post-Ockhamite thought, not only generated an unsettling skepticism, but also drove faith itself further and further into the realm of the irrational.</blockquote><br />Such a reaction is seen in the mystics’ intense concentration on the Passion of Christ and the love it is said to manifest. A similar apprehension of divine mysteries is seen in countless examples of late fourteenth-century lyrics through concentration on the small, particular elements of our world, and through the power of love.<br />Ockham's Via Moderna claimed all we can know for certain is the experiential, those things we can experience through the senses. Emile Mâle, a French art historian and one of the first to study medieval, mostly sacred French art and the influence of eastern European iconography, traces the development of stylistic tendencies in art at the end of the Middle Ages, tying these new styles to this change in sensibility and outlook which social historians of the period regard as one of its hallmarks:<br /><blockquote>From the end of the thirteenth century on, the artists seem no longer able to grasp the great conceptions of earlier times. Before, the Virgin enthroned held her Son with the sacerdotal gravity of the priest holding the chalice. She was the seat of the All-Powerful, 'the throne of Solomon,' in the language of the doctors. She seemed neither woman nor mother, because she was exalted above the sufferings and joys of life. She was the one whom God had chosen at the beginning of time to clothe His word with flesh. She was the pure thought of God. As for the Child, grave, majestic, hand raised,<br />He was already the Master Who commands a<br />nd Who teaches.</blockquote><br />However, this conception disappears and is replaced by the human tenderness between the Virgin Mary and Christ. Through these tender gestures we understand the nature of love. Art transforms from a metaphor and is no longer symbolic. Fourteenth-century art becomes more particularized and more highly detailed than twelfth and thirteenth century art. It now focuses on experiences of the senses, and more particularly, on those moments which speak to the heart.<br />If we view<i> The Prioress’ Tale</i> in this light, a light which shines on emotional reaction as the only true means through which we may experience religious faith, then the tale takes on a meaning and purpose which may not have been recognized at first glance. By concentrating on the diminutive, the detail, not for its symbolic significance but for the emotional value, the Prioress’ narrative shows a literary expression of post-Ockhamite religious thought. Her concern for the small, the particular, and the emotional shows the Prioress unquestionably as a woman of her time, a woman of “fashion”.<br /><blockquote>As for her sympathies and tender feelings,<br />She was so charitably solicitous<br />She used to weep if she but saw a mouse<br />Caught in a trap, if it were dead or bleeding.<br />And she had little dogs she would be feeding<br />With roasted flesh, or milk, or fine white bread.<br />And bitterly she wept if one were dead<br />Or someone took a stick and made it smart;<br />She was all sentiment and tender heart.</blockquote><br />The Prioress is likewise conscious of outward appearance. She is described as a careful dresser with remarkable table manners. She has studied French, but the fact her French is marked by an English accent suggests its study must have been only for show; it does not bear the authentic accent which might have been acquired if it were used for a practical purpose. The Prioress seems to practice putting forth a particular appearance, and has spent much time cultivating a certain image.<br />This attention to appearance might suggest a lack of depth in the Prioress’ character, and likewise in her religion; for the Prioress, the sensible world and an immediate response to it, rather than any abstract philosophy, seems to form the basis of her faith. Apparently the wide, deep spirit of forgiveness of the Gospels and the charity implicit in the doxology become real to her in the physical expression of love and conscience between herself and the small creatures that surround her. Mâle speaks of the influence of St. Francis on religious thought in the later Middle Ages; the Prioress's "conscience and tender heart" seem to follow in that tradition.<br />With this understanding, both <i>The Prioress’ Tale</i> and her <i>Prologue</i> become the platform for an expression of her own personal faith. But this is not a faith expressed by the hatred of Jews, a love for justice, or inspired by the little boy’s testimony among people who were walking in darkness. True, she has chosen a fairly gruesome tale which at first seems paradoxical in light of what we learn of her in the<i> General Prologue</i>. Further, her troublesome references to Jews seem bigoted, if not completely contradictory to the motto she wears on her arm, <i>Amor vincit omnia</i>, which is translated as “Love conquers all.” But in light of an understanding of the religion of her time, it could be argued she has chosen this tale only for its emotional appeal, much as its little hero has chosen to learn the song <i>O Alma Redemptoris</i> for his own emotional response to it. Just as he learned the song by rote without understanding its meaning, the Prioress may have learned her story without consideration of any possible deeper implications; she may not have given much credence to the original legend, and found it merely a convenient vessel to carry a message calculated to stir a deep emotional response. She felt free to embellish the tale with details demanding this emotional response, since an emotional response was the only proof she knew for showing evidence of real Christian faith.<br />In the Prioress’ telling, this gruesome little story takes on the feeling of a fairy tale. In fact, it could be seen as one of the more moderate forms of even that tradition. In Chaucer the clergeon is not crucified, as he is in some other versions; the murder is not a ritual murder, nor is the blood used for nefarious purposes. Moreover, since Jews had been expelled from England in 1290, the Jews of <i>The Prioress's Tale</i> are not drawn from life, but from literature and folklore. The Jews are not perceived as real people, but almost as mythical beings like hobgoblins, and are merely a tool used for the emotional impact of the tale. The Prioress’ lack of concern for a reality-basis to her tale is further evidenced in the tale’s setting; “a city in Asia” is merely some place with a vague exotic flair, and the improbability of its existence is as foreign a concept to the Prioress as thinking the villains in her story were flesh and blood humans instead of mere abstractions of “bad” characters.<br />To the Prioress, this is a tale of a mother’s love for her son. A poor woman, a widow no less, loses her son to the evil practices of a group of hobgoblins. He is such a sweet boy, with such a sweet voice, and isn’t it precious how hard he works to learn this song in honor of the Virgin Mary? She is the Queen of Heaven after all, and isn’t it interesting how she also lost her only son to the same evil hobgoblins? The worst death would be too good for those murderers.<br />From what we see in the other stories, just what was Chaucer’s intention for writing <i>The Canterbury Tales</i>? It seems clear Chaucer wrote his stories as character sketches, examples of the common folk written in their common language. The <i>Encyclopedia Britannica</i> states:<br /><blockquote>Because of [<i>The Canterbury Tales’</i>] structure, the sketches, the links, and the tales all fuse as complex presentations of the pilgrims, while at the same time the tales present remarkable examples of short stories in verse, plus two expositions in prose. In addition, the pilgrimage, combining a fundamentally religious purpose with its secular aspect of vacation in the spring, made possible extended consideration of the relationship between the pleasures and vices of this world and the spiritual aspirations for the next, that seeming dichotomy with which Chaucer, like Boethius and many other medieval writers, was so steadily concerned.</blockquote><br />The importance Chaucer placed on stories of the common man is evident in his use of the lowly Saxon language. Anyone who wanted their work to be remembered wrote in Latin, the grammatica, the indestructible language which would never change; Cicero wrote in Latin more than 1500 years before Chaucer and Cicero was still read. In England, French was often the language of choice since the Normans had ruled there for 300 years and everyone who was anyone spoke and wrote in French. It was not a given that an English writer would write in English.<br />That Chaucer did not write in French is equally surprising. His translation of<i> The Romance of the Rose</i> provides evidence Chaucer could write well in French, and the upper class of England spoke French in their everyday lives. Although Chaucer was not of the upper class, he had married into it at a high level; his wife, Phillipa, was sister to Katherine Swynford, the third wife of John of Gaunt. As brother-in-law to the most powerful man in England (Shakespeare reminds us in Richard II that John of Gaunt was even more powerful than the king), Chaucer might have written in French to impress his in-laws and the center of Norman power.<br />The fact that Chaucer wrote <i>The Canterbury Tales</i>, and therefore <i>The Prioress’ Tale</i>, in English, the language of the lowly Anglo-Saxons, instead of French, the language of the upper-class Normans, seems to invite the assumption Chaucer did not support the idea of racial inferiority. This does not rule out the idea that Chaucer could have believed Jews were inferior for religious reasons, but our understanding of the post-Ockhamite appeal to emotionally-charged handling of subjects may provide enough reason why the tale treated Jews as nothing more than shadows, void of full human characterization and realization. The Jews were merely present to elicit an emotional response; Chaucer did not invent or encourage the response, he merely capitalized on it. To be more exact, the Prioress chose to capitalize on the expected response; it seems likely Chaucer’s intent for the tale was to paint a portrait of a woman whose faith was rooted in such emotional responses.<br />Critics often point out an ironic, satirical tone which seems to pervade Chaucer's treatment of the Prioress in the <i>General Prologue</i>. Her nice manners (139-40: 'And peyned hire to counterfete cheere / Of court') and fashionable dress (151: 'Ful semyly hir wympul pynched was') sit uneasily with her spiritual calling. She is lax in the observance of monastic rules: she eats roast meat, keeps lap-dogs and wears jewelry with the ambiguous inscription, Amor vincit omnia. The description of her physical charms, following the conventions of courtly love poetry and ending with the understatement, “For, hardily, she was not undergrowe”, is seen as nothing less than comical. Even her linguistic accomplishments (and her finishing school) are made the butt of barbed comment:<br /><blockquote>And Frenssh she spak ful faire and fetisly,<br />After the scole of Stratford atte Bowe,<br />For Frenssh of Parys was to hire unknowe.”<br />She weeps easily--at the suffering of small animals:<br />“She was so charitable and so pitous<br />She wolde wepe, if that she saugh a mous<br />Kaught in a trappe, if it were deed or bledde.</blockquote><br />A picture emerges of a rather large, sentimental, vain woman, and Chaucer seems to be mocking her. Mocking and satire were certainly familiar to his audiences; Satirical poetry is believed to have been popular in Chaucer’s time although little has survived. Examples of such poetry may still be seen in the bawdy lyrics of <i>Carmina Bu</i>rnana, set to music by Carl Orf in the 20th Century. Aside from Chaucer, the genre was later to give birth to such greats as Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra and Jonathan Swift.<br />The Random House Unabridged Dictionary defines “satire”:<br /><blockquote>A literary composition, in verse or prose, in which human folly and vice are held up to scorn, derision, or ridicule, satirical writing or drama often scorns such folly by pretending to approve of values which are the diametric opposite of what the satirist actually wishes to promote.</blockquote><br />With one foot planted firmly in Satire, Chaucer lightheartedly pokes fun and the fables and foibles of the people who populated his world. <i>The Miller’s Tale</i> gives us the amorous student, the lusty housewife, and the gullible husband, within one of the great short stories of all time. <i>The Wife of Bath</i> provides a surprisingly frank account of womanhood in medieval times, and her tale tells us nearly as much about her character as she revealed herself. In a similar fashion, <i>The Prioress’ Tale</i> provides insight on the character of its teller; it’s not about the legend, but it’s all about how the Prioress tells the tale.<br />The Prioress doesn’t tell a story about murder as much as she tells a story about a poor widow who loses her precious little son. She doesn’t tell a story about devotion to the Virgin Mary as much as she tells a story about a little boy who has an emotional response to a song which expresses such devotion. She doesn’t tell a story about cursed Jews as much as she tells a story about dark shadows that go bump in the night. Above everything, or at least encompassing it all, Chaucer doesn’t tell a story about any of these things as much as he tells a story about a woman who holds them all so dear; <i>The Prioress’ Tale</i> is a story about a woman who finds proof of her religious faith in the emotions she can experience from it.<br />Without minimizing the impact of the Holocaust or the very real problem of anti-Semitism, it can be asserted <i>The Prioress’ Tale</i> is not anti-Semitic by nature, even though it does include anti-Semitic content. The story does in fact contain bigotry and prejudice against Jews, but these things are twice removed from the purposes of the story; they are not necessarily the view of the Prioress, and therefore it follows they are not necessarily the view of Chaucer. The Prioress’ lack of concern for the anti-Semitic elements of her tale does not justify her use of them, but their presence in her tale does not necessarily mean she was preaching anti-Semitism, or even supported it, and their presence certainly does not make Chaucer an anti-Semitic.<br />Just as the Prioress used the legend of Little Hugh for her own ends, Chaucer used <i>The Prioress’ Tale</i> as a means to his own ends. The result is an insightful character sketch, one of several in <i>The Canterbury Tales</i>, which brings about an emotional response in the reader, much like the emotional response the Prioress intended to create among the pilgrims. This emotional response, if we follow post-Ockhamite philosophy, creates an experience around the reading of <i>The Canterbury Tales</i> which not only makes it more real to us, but is one of the reasons the work has survived more than 600 years.<br /><h6 class="zemanta-related-title" style="font-size: 1em;">Related articles</h6><br /><ul class="zemanta-article-ul"><br /><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://litlook.com/satire-in-the-english-renaissance-pastoral/">Satire in the English Renaissance Pastoral</a> (litlook.com)</li><br /><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://cifwatch.com/2011/06/11/survey-on-anti-semitism/">Survey on anti-Semitism</a> (cifwatch.com)</li><br /><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://www.tmz.com/2011/06/10/eli-roth-russell-crowe-anti-semitic-hollywood-reporter-circumcision-jews-insult-twitter-tweet/">Eli Roth: Russell Crowe Is NOT Anti-Semitic</a> (tmz.com)</li></ul><br /><div class="zemanta-pixie" style="height: 15px; margin-top: 10px;"><img alt="" class="zemanta-pixie-img at-xid-6a00e54ef845f68833014e8929ab04970d" src="http://terryheath.typepad.com/.a/6a00e54ef845f68833014e8929ab04970d-pi" style="border: none; float: right;" /></div>Terry Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12072061386395979977noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6665821763723637834.post-21914303864617841982011-06-13T17:00:00.000-07:002022-03-11T21:48:04.252-08:00Plato ' s " Allegory of the Cave " and the Film " Barton Fink "<div class="zemanta-img" style="margin: 1em; display: block;"><br/>[caption id="" align="alignright" width="274" caption="Image via Wikipedia"]<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:BartonFink.jpg"><img alt="Barton Fink" height="396" src="http://terryheath.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/BartonFink11.jpg" title="Barton Fink" width="274" /></a>[/caption]<br/></div><br/>In 1941 a $1,000 or $2,000 a week offer to write for <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=34.1,-118.333333333&spn=0.1,0.1&q=34.1,-118.333333333 (Hollywood)&t=h" rel="geolocation" title="Hollywood">Hollywood</a> would be pretty tempting, even if you felt your poetic and insightful work for the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.history.com/topics/new-york" rel="historycom" title="New York">New York</a> stage had started to make a difference in the lives of common man. Then if you're a good Jewish boy, like <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/barton_fink" rel="rottentomatoes" title="Barton Fink">Barton Fink</a> in the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.oscars.org/" rel="homepage" title="Academy Award">Oscar-nominated</a> film bearing his name, accepting such an offer might be tantamount to selling your soul to the devil. You might as well check yourself into Hell right now, and that's exactly what Fink did when he got a room at the Hotel Earle, a seedy Hollywood place where you can stay "A day or a lifetime."<br/>The bellhop ascended from a trap door behind the counter, something like <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Satan" rel="wikipedia" title="Satan">Satan</a> appearing on stage during a play (possibly an allusion to Fink leaving his stage-writing career behind). Fink's sixth-floor destination is announced three times in the elevator, alluding of course to the mark of the beast. Most consequential of all, Fink meets his neighbor Charlie Meadows whose anger and frustration not only increases the hotel's temperature but ultimately produces fire (obviously a symbolic fire since it is no impediment to Fink departing the "burning" hotel). If Fink had noticed the pencil on the hotel stationary didn't have a lead, then perhaps he might have realized this might not be the best place to do his writing.<br/>While theatre and film are two places illusion reigns supreme, it might be argued the stage is a little less illusory since we are at least viewing live actors. In film, we watch shadows of actors from a time somewhere in the past. With this in mind, it could be said Fink began a descent from reality to illusion the moment he agreed to write for film. This descent into illusion increased throughout the story, with Fink's world (or at least his view of it) becoming less and less likely, and ultimately ending in a conversation between Fink and the mysterious "girl on the beach" from a painting in his <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hotel" rel="wikipedia" title="Hotel">hotel room</a>.<br/><a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plato" rel="wikipedia" title="Plato">Plato's</a> <em><a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Allegory_of_the_Cave" rel="wikipedia" title="Allegory of the Cave">Allegory of the Cave</a></em>, provides us with an almost prophetic description of the illusory effect of <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cinema_of_the_United_States" rel="wikipedia" title="Cinema of the United States">Hollywood movies</a>. In it, prisoners watch shadows projected on a cave wall much like we view a movie projected onto a screen. In the allegory, the prisoners have never seen the real objects which make these shadows. The prisoners only hear sounds through echos off the same cave wall, again like our experience in the cinema. Because this has been their only experience since birth, the prisoners assume these shadows are the real thing and they cannot imagine any other reality. In movies we are asked to buy into the reality projected on a screen. The line between shadow or illusion, and reality, can become blurred, even if this effect is only temporary.<br/>In <em>Barton Fink</em>, Fink loses his ability to distinguish between "shadows" and the real thing. Hotel Earle seems to be the epicenter and to some extent the impetus of Fink's departure from reality. Like some of Plato's allegorical prisoners venture from the cave Fink ventures from his hotel room, but his experiences in the "real world" are not as enlightening as those of the prisoners. He meets the writer W.P. Mayhew, whom Fink practially idolizes. Mayhew dresses in a white suit and has written a novel about <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nebuchadnezzar_II" rel="wikipedia" title="Nebuchadnezzar II">Nebuchadnezzar</a>, which could mean he is meant to be a "God" character in contrast to Charlie representing a fallen angel (if not Satan himself). Fink associates Mayhew's writing with the Holy Bible, seeing Mayhew's text written in biblical format, but when he imagines his own words printed on such a page, Fink's struggle with writer's block only increases. Fink learns Mayhew's texts were in fact written by a personal secretary, but when he tries to adopt her as his own muse she is murdered by Charlie, who has in his own way tried to be such a muse.<br/>Unlike the prisoners in Plato's allegory, Fink's experiences outside the cave do not inform his understanding of the illusions in the film industry and his hotel room.<br/><h6 class="zemanta-related-title" style="font-size: 1em;">Related articles</h6><br/><ul class="zemanta-article-ul"><br/><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://5plitreel.wordpress.com/2011/04/19/7-forgotten-favourites-of-the-1990s/">7 Forgotten Favourites of the 1990′s</a> (5plitreel.wordpress.com)</li><br/><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://www.avclub.com/articles/the-coen-brothers-maybe-working-on-some-kind-of-mu,57480/">Film: Newswire: The Coen Brothers maybe working on some kind of music film</a> (avclub.com)</li><br/><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://collider.com/coen-brothers-new-film-music/96002/">The Coen Brothers Might Be Making A Music-Intensive Project Their Next Film</a> (collider.com)</li><br/></ul><br/><div class="zemanta-pixie" style="margin-top: 10px; height: 15px;"><img alt="" class="zemanta-pixie-img at-xid-6a00e54ef845f68833014e8929ab5e970d" src="http://terryheath.typepad.com/.a/6a00e54ef845f68833014e8929ab5e970d-pi" style="border: none; float: right;" /></div>Terry Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12072061386395979977noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6665821763723637834.post-41428719948006016292009-08-10T17:00:00.000-07:002022-03-11T21:48:05.149-08:00Five Classics of Film Noir><span style="font-size:130%;"></span>As Raymond Borde and Etienne Chaumeton point out in <span style="font-style: italic;">Towards a Definition of Film Noir</span>, prior to World War II convention dictated a beautiful heroine and an honest hero; we expected a clear line between good and bad, as well as clear motives, and the action should develop logically. But the 1941 film adaptation of Dashiell Hammett's 1930 detective novel <span style="font-style: italic;">The Maltese Falcon</span> set these expectations on their ears, creating a first installment in the dark and unpredictable film genre called <em>film noir</em>. This is no Superman with a chaste fiancee, but a flawed hero with a depraved, murderous, doped-up, or drunk heroine.<br /><br />The difference is clear in one of the final scenes in <span style="font-style: italic;">The Maltese Falcon</span>. The coveted black bird has been revealed a fake, and the crooks have fled. Sam Spade has called the police to tell them the entire story, and he’s left with Brigid O'Shaughnessy. There is no talk of running to some hideaway; he bluntly asks her why she killed his business partner, Miles Archer. At first she seems horrified by the question, but realizes she cannot pretend any longer.<br /><br />As Borde and Chaumeton generalize of the entire genre, “a sense of dread persists until the final images”. There is no happy ending in sight. Brigid speaks low and flat, with her voice drained of emotion much like her soul seems to have been drained of life; the chaos has gone beyond all limits. She had wanted Thursby, her partner in crime, out of the picture so she could have the falcon to herself, as well as the subsequent reward. She had hired Archer to scare him off, but it didn’t work. She had killed Archer to frame it on Thursby. Then she needed a new protector, and came back to Sam.<br /><br />But she loves Sam, and says she would have come back anyway. As an audience, we struggle between her ambivalence over her crimes and her love for Sam Spade. All the criminality, all the contradictions, have made us share in her experience, her sense of anguish. Sam loves her too, and we would like them to be together, despite their respective flaws, but our need for justice leaves us with a similar ambivalence; we could go either way, freedom or punishment.<br /><br />We search her face for a hint of the dishonesty which has characterized her behavior up until now, but we cautiously surmise it seems to be gone. Spade’s voice is tense, he speaks quickly, suppressing all emotion, but we see it in his face; this is difficult for him, he loves her. This woman has murdered, lied, cheated, and played the whore. But a part of us wants her to go free, to live happily ever after with Spade.<br /><br />We are disoriented and seem to have misplaced our moral compass, but that disorientation and alienation is the work, and the aim, of film noir.<br /><br />In the film <span style="font-style: italic;">Double Indemnity</span>, based on the James M. Cain novella of the same name, things were seldom as they seemed.<br /><br />They hadn't seen each other that evening, but it could also be said they had never truly seen each other at all. They worked together on faith and hope; hoping the other person was someone they could trust and faith that other person really was. They were on a journey together, a journey which Walter Neff's co-worker and friend Barton Keyes had said ends only at the grave, but something stood between them; they had to depend on faith and hope because they didn't know each other well enough to have it another way.<br /><br />Walter returned home, confident they had accomplished the perfect murder. Phyllis called from the drug store and wanted to see him, and he agreed. But before she arrived, Keyes payed Walter a visit; something was on his mind about this murder case and he wanted to bounce it off a friend. If Keyes happened to see Walter and Phyllis together, it might help him find the answer. But for now, Keyes has no reason to suspect his friend Walter Neff has conspired with Phyllis Dietrichson to kill her husband and collect the insurance money.<br /><br />Keyes keeps his visit short and is headed for the drug store to get something for the indigestion this case has given him. He doesn't know the remedy is waiting in the hall, listening through the door. If Phyllis hadn't heard Keyes, and had interrupted the conversation, it would have been over. As Keyes leaves Walter's apartment, Phyllis ducks behind the door. Walter has come out of the apartment to see Keyes to the elevator, but also to keep watch for Phyllis. She tugs slightly at the door, letting Walter know she's there, so he remains by the door.<br /><br />Keyes starts down the hall, but turns from the elevator and returns to Walther, not realizing Phyllis is there too. The movement could be seen as symbolic of how Keyes is unknowingly moving closer to the truth. A few steps more would reveal the woman standing behind the door, just as a few more steps in Keyes' logic can reveal that same woman's secret.<br /><br />As Janey Place and Lowell Peterson point out in <span style="font-style: italic;">Some Visual Motifs of Film Noir</span>, Barbara Stanwyck is lit in this scene with direct, undiffused lighting to give her Phyllis character a "hard-edged, mask-like surface beauty". This is the mask she always wears around Walter, and on the other side of the door, Walter appears soft and vulnerable.<br /><br />The use of physical elements to convey psychological meaning was common in film noir. As such, the door in this scene gives insight to the entire film by representing the true nature of Walter and Phyllis' relationship. They stand in danger together, but at the same time they are separate. Right now it's just the door between them, but at other times it's the lies Phyllis has told Walter. Neither of them knows for certain who is on the other side of the door, but they've placed their entire trust in whoever it is. The door isn't all that separates them.<br /><br />All the genre's defining elements are present in director Edgar G. Ulmer's <span style="font-style: italic;">Detour</span>: confusion, fatalism, and claustrophobia, filmed in a style calculated to intensify the effect and so classically noir it verges on parody. Ulmer's film is one of the darkest of the film noir genre, more specifically, a dystopian example of the "road movie" (<span style="font-style: italic;">It Happened One Night</span> is a popular example of the road movie genre).<br /><br />The road is seldom clear in noir, and Al Roberts fumbles though the confusion like it's an unfamiliar road, like the "detour" of the film's name. But Roberts doesn't seem to be doing<br/>the driving; it seems fate has taken the wheel and he is just a hitchhiker along for the ride. At first he struggles against it, but by the end he adopts a fatalistic attitude.<br /><blockquote>"I keep trying to forget what happened and wonder what my life might have been like if that car of Haskel's hadn't stopped. But one thing I don't have to wonder about, I know. Someday a car will stop to pick me up that I never thumbed. Yes, Fate or some mysterious force can put the finger on you or me, for no good reason at all." - Al Roberts</blockquote>Much of <span style="font-style: italic;">Detour</span> is framed by a diner scene where Roberts narrates the story, and these scenes are shot in classic noir style. The lighting is shuttered to primarily light Roberts' eyes, both drawing focus to the agony in his expression and creating a feeling of claustrophobia, a feeling echoed by cramped scenes in the car and the apartment he rents with the tough femme fatale, Vera. In these diner scenes, Roberts is isolated from those around him; activity continues all around, but the other characters are in a dim light and the shadows seem to wall them off. The camera zooms in on shots of Roberts' coffee cup, and we can almost taste the dregs at the bottom of it; a juke box, playing the song that spurs Roberts' tale, fills the frame as its music segues into the orchestra music from Roberts' past and the start of his story.<br /><br />Edgar G. Ulmer got his start in film during the German Expressionism period of the 1920s where producers used abstract settings, lighting and shadow in place of lavish production budgets. So although Ulmer was accustomed to dealing with budget constraints, the fact "Detour" was filmed with one of the lowest budgets of its day makes the film's attention to style all the more remarkable.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span>In Rudolph Maté's 1950 film <span style="font-style: italic;">D.O.A.</span> Frank Bigelow is looking for a murderer, his own. Bigelow has been poisoned and there is no antidote; he will have no more than one week to live. His urgent need to convict his murderer propels Bigelow's quest, as well as the pace of the film. It's a matter of life and death.<br /><br />In a post-Hiroshima world (the film was released only five years after the tragedy of Hiroshima), society lives under a new and constant fear of nuclear fallout. While living his life unaware of danger, Frank Bigelo has been slipped a dose of "iridium", a toxin associated with radiation. He is "everyman" and his quest to track down and destroy the source of this poison could be said to represent post-War America's need to track down and destroy the source of a nuclear threat; the search for Frank Bigelo's murderer becomes the concern of every man, woman, and child who could fall prey to a similar poison from a less-personal hand.<br /><br />But with typical noir cynicism we realize along with Bigalow that even if we destroy the source, it may already be too late.<br /><br />While the search for a murderer creates the dramatic tension which binds this film together and propels the story forward, the individual scenes are what makes <span style="font-style: italic;">D.O.A.</span> a classic example of film noir. Noir's roots in German Expressionism are evident in several scenes, but perhaps no example is as striking as the scenes within <span style="font-style: italic;">The Fisherman</span>, the Beatnik nightclub where Bigalow is poisoned.<br /><br />In the nightclub scene we see the odd closeups and camera angles typical of film noir, but the effect goes beyond film technique. The club patrons are frenzied, they're moving with unnatural responses to wild Jazz music. The musicians are bug-eyed and sweating, but it's more than that; they appear dangerous, possibly possessed. A mysterious figure with a checkered scarf exchanges Bigelow's drink for the poisoned version. We don't see the figure's face, but he is calm, quiet, and as such he stands out against the frenzied crowd. However the crowd is too frenzied to notice.<br /><br />It isn't clear if the film intended to sound a warning against the threat of nuclear poisoning, but it doesn't take much to justify this argument. Frank Bigelow came into harm's way while performing his simple day to day duties as an accountant and notary. He wanted to have a little fun, but got caught up in the excitement and didn't notice the still, calm hand who brought an end to his life.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span>In director David Miller's 1952 film noir classic <span style="font-style: italic;">Sudden Fear</span>, a clock's pendulum rhythmically sways and its shadow falls across Joan Crawford's face, shifting from side to side like her thoughts. Although we cannot see the thoughts within her mind, the shadow of the clock speaks of them: "Do I kill him before he kills me?"<br /><br />The clock ticks away, measuring the seconds. She holds a written schedule in her hand. It forecasts the minutes before and after midnight tonight; I leave her house at a certain time, Irene goes to the garage to meet Jack at midnight but he isn't there. Jack comes to Irene's house while she's away, and there I shoot him with her gun. She returns when I am gone and is convicted of murder. Everything is in place, and everything is simple.<br /><br />We see what she sees as she imagines each element of her plan. It ticks away like clockwork in her mind, each piece falling into place perfectly. In her mind, the plan is executed as void of emotion as the clock. The clock doesn't care about each minute it measures, and Myra Hudson doesn't care about each step in her plan. At least, not right now.<br /><br />The shadow continues to tick across her face.<br /><br />But when the time comes to put the plan into action, there is no clock to measure her steps. The pieces are falling into place, the clock of fate has been set in motion, but can she stop it? If her plan is discovered, he will surely kill her.<br /><br />Myra tries to flee, but Jack sees her leaving Irene's apartment. A chase ensues and the shadows no longer tick away like a smooth running machine. The shadows are awkward, indecisive. Railings go this way and that, and the shadows are disorientating.<br /><br />But this is film noir, and shadows are practically a character in the story.<br /><br />In <span style="font-style: italic;">Dark City: The Film Noir</span> Spencer Selby calls <span style="font-style: italic;">Sudden Fear</span> one of the most stylish and refined woman-in-distress noirs. It received Academy Award nominations for Best Actress in a Leading Role (Joan Crawford), Best Actor in a Supporting Role (Jack Palance), Best Cinematography, Black-and-White, and Best Costume Design.<br /><br />Do you have a noir favorite? Is there some dark scene from a noir classic that stands out in your memory?Terry Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12072061386395979977noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6665821763723637834.post-51980000152906351512009-06-24T17:00:00.000-07:002022-03-11T21:48:05.867-08:00" Interview With The Vampire " and Evolution in the Horror Film GenreThe rules and expectations within film genres are like a language with evolving rules of grammar; its evolution is a give and take between filmmaker and audience, guided by cultural changes as well as technological advances. For a film genre to survive it must communicate, remain relevant, and in the process of creation and viewing it must engage both filmmaker and audience. A successful film genre must constantly reinvent itself and change with the times.<br/>The vampire film genre has held audiences in its spell almost since the beginning of film history. The 1922 German film "Nosferatu," directed by Friedrich Wilhelm Murnau featured a supernatural vampire, an unlicensed version of Bram Stoker's "Dracula" (whose estate sued and won), and the Dracula character appeared again in Universal's "Dracula" of 1931 (featuring Bela Lugosi). However, the vampires in both films are quite different. "Nosferatu" presented the hideous creature of European folklore, while Lugosi's vampire was a more alluring character with a sexual appeal. These differing representations of vampires subsequently reappeared throughout the genre's history, presenting many interpretations of the character from mindless zombie to captivating siren.<br/>Changing with the times, vampire films have somewhat left the larger classification of the horror film genre. For the most part, horror films have retained their focus on the victim. Whatever monster might be present is an evil to be avoided and its exploits are the thing to be feared. But in the vampire film genre our monsters have become beings with feelings, sometimes we are sympathetic of their blood-sucking fates and often the vampire has actually become the protagonist in these films. We may feel a passing regret for Freddy Krueger's ("Nightmare on Elm Street") fate, yet he remains the monster. Jason may briefly tug our sympathy strings in "Friday the 13th" but again, he is an evil to be overcome. On the other hand, in Anne Rice's "Interview With the Vampire," the vampire Louis is sensitive and thoughtful.<br/>Louis says, “It was only when I became a vampire that I respected for the first time all of life. I never saw a living, pulsing human being until I was a vampire. I never knew what life was until it ran out in a red gush over my lips, my hands!” He is a Byronic hero who has transcended the demonic vampire of Hollywood and revisited the Romantic movement and 19th century Gothic fiction. Flawed yet enchanting, Louis has the brooding sexuality of Heathcliff from Emily Brontë's "Wuthering Heights" (1847) and the rough-edged charisma of Rochester from Charlotte Brontë's "Jane Eyre" (1847). He is Erik, the Phantom from Gaston Leroux's "Phantom of the Opera" and Claude Frollo from Victor Hugo's "The Hunchback of Notre Dame." Louis' partner and counterpart Lestat de Lioncourt embodies the Byronic spirit as well.<br/>Like the vampire novel, vampire films have become character driven, growing from pulp fiction into literature. These films have created a film language of their own, moving from a fascination with blood and death to an exploration of the soul and life.Terry Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12072061386395979977noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6665821763723637834.post-45032299429669053452009-06-23T17:00:00.000-07:002022-03-11T21:48:05.624-08:00Howard Hawks and Auteur Theory in Film CriticismAuteur theory is often associated with the French film review periodical "Cahiers du cinéma" and has carried a major impact on film criticism since it was advocated by film director and film critic François Truffaut in 1954. Simplified, Auteur theory explores a director's influences on a film, considering the director one of the film's authors. Of course, in European Union law the film director is always considered an author of the film but this doesn't usually hold true in Hollywood.<br/>Since auteur theory was never summarized in a collective statement, its use could be broadly interpreted. Truffaut and those who wrote for Cahiers expected directors to wield the camera like a writer's pen (Alexandre Astruc's notion of the caméra-stylo or "camera-pen"), superimposing the director's vision on the film through the mise en scène, therefore diminishing the screenwriter's role. Filmmakers such as Howard Hawks, Alfred Hitchcock and Jean Renior were considered prime examples of "auteurs" of their films.<br/>The director's contribution did not need to be consciously made and according to Geoffrey Nowell-Smith, "the defining characteristics of an author's work are not necessarily those which are most readily apparent. The purpose of criticism thus becomes to uncover behind the superficial contrasts of subject and treatment a hard core of basic and often recondite motifs. The pattern formed by these motifs . . . is what gives an author's work its particular structure, both defining it internally and distinguishing one body of work from another." Because of its scope, depth, and the length of his tenure in Hollywood the work of director Howard Hawks is seen as a test case for auteur theory.<br/>One defining characteristic of Hawks' work is the use of an exclusive, self-sufficient, all-male group who is often isolated physically or emotionally from society. Men are accepted into this elite group only after a period of testing where they must prove how "good" they are at whatever job the group is responsible for. Women are generally seen as a threatening force and are only admitted to the group after a long ritual courtship, and even then are never really considered full members. An undercurrent of homosexuality never fully surfaces, but does occasionally run close to the surface. Often men in the group have either been married or committed to women, but suffered some unnamed trauma at their hands. Men in the group are usually considered equals, but women are clearly associated with animals (most explicitly in "Bringing Up Baby," "Gentlemen Prefer Blonds," and "Hatari!"); the men in the group must strive to maintain mastery.<br/>Because of the collaborative aspect of making a film, auteur theory began receiving criticism in the 1960s. The New Criticism school of literary criticism called auteur theory's speculations about what the author meant, based on the author's personality and life experiences, an intentional fallacy. New Critics believed the author's intention was secondary to the experience of reading or viewing literature.Terry Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12072061386395979977noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6665821763723637834.post-77325751615028263992009-06-22T17:00:00.000-07:002022-03-11T21:48:06.798-08:00Alfred Hitchcock ' s " Rear Window " and a Life in the ShadowsIn "The Art of Fiction," John Gardner talks about the "fictional dream," the movie running in our minds as we read the words of a story. This can be a precarious process and many of its elements depend on the ability and attitude of the reader. The reader must be carefully guided by a narrator, often a character within the story or a reliable witness to the action.<br/>Film allows its audience to take a more passive role in understanding the story. Cinematic narration relays its story through visual cues which may compact a greater amount of information in a shorter time. While written and cinematic narration both convey description and viewpoint, the old saying holds true and "a picture is worth a thousand words."<br/>The 1942 short story “It Had to Be Murder" by Cornell Woolrich, the basis for Alfred Hitchcock's film "Rear Window," echoes the sense of doom and personal impotence found in much of Woolrich’s fiction. Because of his homosexuality, Woolrich must have understood the dichotomy of walking between the shadows and the light. Francis Nevins called Woolrich “the Poe of the 20th century and the poet of its shadows, the Hitchcock of the written word” (Francis M. Nevins. “Tonight, Somewhere in New York”. Carroll & Graf, New York, 2005. p. 1). In this story, his hero suffers from a broken leg and is relegated to the status of "peeping Tom." As an invalid he must depend upon the actions of others to impact his surroundings, and if he is not believed or at least taken seriously he cannot effect change. When his suspicious neighbor confronts him in his own apartment, the hero is unable to defend himself and must be rescued.<br/>Woolrich's fiction seems to echo or parallel his own life experience. This fragment was found in Woolrich’s papers after his death in 1968:<br/><blockquote>“I was only trying to cheat death. I was only trying to surmount for a while the darkness that all my life I surely knew was going to come rolling in on me one day and obliterate me. I was only trying to stay alive a brief while longer, after I was already gone. To stay in the light, to be with the living, a little while past my time.” (”Blues of a Lifetime. The Autobiography of Cornell Woolrich.” ed. Mark T. Bassett. Bowling Green State University Popular Press. Bowling Green, 1991. p. 152).</blockquote><br/>"Rear Window" is considered by many to be one of director Alfred Hitchcock's best and most thrilling films. We see how the hero (photographer L. B. "Jeff" Jeffries, played by James Stewart) not only is separated from his neighbors by a courtyard, window blinds, and a broken leg, but also how he must depend on binoculars to bring the world in closer and other people to interact with it. We can see his sympathy for Ms. Lonely Hearts and understand how he must relate to her lonely plight, and wonder why he avoids the topic of marriage with his beautiful girlfriend (Lisa Fremont, played by Grace Kelly). Even Jeffries' profession reminds us of someone attempting to connect with reality through a camera lens. Ultimately, we understand how we all can be limited in some way and relate to a feeling of personal ineffectiveness.<br/>Critic Bosley Crowther of The New York Times remarked:<br/><blockquote>Mr. Hitchcock's film is not "significant." What it has to say about people and human nature is superficial and glib. But it does expose many facets of the loneliness of city life and it tacitly demonstrates the impulse of morbid curiosity. The purpose of it is sensation, and that it generally provides in the colorfulness of its detail and in the flood of menace toward the end.</blockquote><br/>Perhaps Hollywood felt content with merely producing another thriller and wasn't quite ready to explore the original story's particular brand of shadows. The film received four Academy Award nominations: Best Director for Alfred Hitchcock, Best Screenplay for John Michael Hayes, Best Cinematography, Color for Robert Burks, Best Sound Recording for Loren L. Ryder, Paramount Pictures. John Michael Hayes won a 1955 Edgar Award for best motion picture.Terry Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12072061386395979977noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6665821763723637834.post-22444308209444027082009-06-21T17:00:00.000-07:002022-03-11T21:48:04.312-08:00Film Truth and Dziga Vertov ' s " Man With a Movie Camera "Primarily in the 1920's, filmmakers such as Dziga Vertov experimented with a theory called kino pravda, or "film truth." Perhaps even more of a montage than what was produced by <a href="http://terryheath.com/eisenstein-and-the-dialectic-theory-of-film/">Pudovkin and discussed by Eisenstein</a>, kino pravda set out to capture fragments of reality and combine them to reveal a deeper truth, one not readily visible to the naked eye. This truth would be one accessible only through the eye of the camera.<br/>Vertov called fiction film a new "opiate for the masses" and belonged to a movement known as kiniks (or kinokis) who hoped to abolish non-documentary film-making. His "Man With a Movie Camera" was Vertov's response to critics who rejected his earlier "One-Sixth Part of the World." Because of its experimental nature, Vertov worried this later film would be ignored or destroyed, hence the film's opening statement:<br/><blockquote>"The film Man with a Movie Camera represents<br/>AN EXPERIMENTATION IN THE CINEMATIC TRANSMISSION<br/>Of visual phenomena<br/>WITHOUT THE USE OF INTERTITLES<br/>(a film without intertitles)<br/>WITHOUT THE HELP OF A SCRIPT<br/>(a film without script)<br/>WITHOUT THE HELP OF A THEATRE<br/>(a film without actors, without sets, etc.)<br/>This new experimentation work by Kino-Eye is directed towards the creation of an authentically international absolute language of cinema – ABSOLUTE KINOGRAPHY – on the basis of its complete separation from the language of theatre and literature."</blockquote><br/>Despite Vertov's claims that filming could capture reality without intruding, cameras of the day were large, loud, and could not be hidden easily. To be truly hidden, Vertov and his brother Mikhail Kaufman attempted to distract their subjects with something else, something louder than the camera. So even if the camera itself was not imposing itself on the scene, the necessary distraction would alter the "truth" to some extent. Therefore, "film truth" could not technically be a reality during Vertov's time as a filmmaker.<br/>Much like Vertov's earlier "Kino-Pravda" series, 23 short documentaries created over a period of three years, "Man With a Movie Camera" contains a propagandist element. Vertov wished to create a futuristic city following the Marxist ideal, an industrialized city built on the back of workers and their hard labor. Much of the film's style seems to borrow from the earlier "Berlin: Symphony of a Great City" by Walter Ruttman. However, these stylistic choices do seem to create a symbolic language which is generally effective.<br/>While "Man With a Movie Camera" may not fully realize the goal it sought to portray, a "truth in film," it may have inadvertently produced a true statement of the era which produced it. The film contains an optimism, idealism and naivety representative of its place in history.Terry Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12072061386395979977noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6665821763723637834.post-44613386061696516842009-06-07T17:00:00.000-07:002022-03-11T23:07:45.109-08:00Eisenstein and the Dialectic Theory of FilmAt its core, a dialectic is simply a conflict. But Soviet filmmakers, especially Sergei Eisenstein, elevated these conflicts to an art form and their dialectic theory of film has made a substantial impact on cinematic visual aesthetics. Eisenstein used a juxtaposition of conflicting images to create a montage, believing the effect could bring about consequential social change. Unfortunately, films built on this technique, such as his <em>Battleship Potemkin</em> (1925), now come across gimmicky and in some cases laughable.<br/>However, the dialectic theory of film has not left us. The dialectic has been proven itself an effective way to condense an argument and persuade the audience, sometimes in less than 30 seconds. You can readily find any number of examples by flipping through a few television channels, watching a few commercials. The conflict may be presented through colliding words, colliding images, or both.<br/><blockquote>MAN: So are you trying to watch your weight?<br/>WOMAN: No, why?<br/>MAN: Nothing, it’s just the Cheerios box. It says it’s low in fat.<br/>WOMAN: Does it look like I need to watch my weight?<br/>MAN: No, no, no, no. It’s just the box. It says there are only 110 calories per serving.<br/>WOMAN: There are other reasons why I like it.<br/>MAN: I know. It’s just the box. It says it’s made from five whole grains. That’s good, right?<br/>WOMAN: What else does the box say?<br/>MAN: The box says, “Shut up, Steve.”</blockquote><br/>But herein lies the at least part of the reason this technique has fallen out of favor in film today. Dialectics are by their very nature manipulative and unnatural. It is difficult to witness use of this technique without feeling on some level you are being "sold" something.<br/>In the famous "Odessa Steps" sequence of <em>Battleship Potemkin</em> we are exposed to a montage of images calculated to bring about an emotional response. In one part of the sequence, a woman with a baby carriage is shot and not only does her death leave the child unattended, but even the fall of her body pushes the carriage down a flight of stairs. She clutches her large belt buckle, a swan (probably a symbol of culture, civilization, beauty), as blood pours slowly over it. Even if the mythological associations of the swan had passed viewers' attentions, the woman's fine clothing would have made them realize she was another middle-class victim of the Cossack assault. Eisenstein knew his audience would associate the Cossacks with their reputation for horsemanship and ruthless military skills, and knowing that,  he capitalized on it.<br/>When an art form is new, its boundaries remain to be defined. The fact Eisenstein believed the addition of sound to film was a passing gimmick seems to show he believed film's boundaries were similar to that of visual art. It would be easy to say Eisenstein lacked an understanding of film art, but how can anyone understand what has not yet been defined? It might also be tempting to say he lacked a vision of what the form could become, but judging from his experimentation and passion for film as a dialectic tool, it might be more accurate to say his vision was merely of something different than what film eventually did become.<br/>Regardless, the modern television commercial owes him a great debt.Terry Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12072061386395979977noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6665821763723637834.post-71558508936294221492009-05-03T17:00:00.000-07:002022-03-11T23:05:28.269-08:00Going to Meet the Man: The Lynching of James BaldwinOn one hand, <a href="http://terryheath.com/tag/james-baldwin/">James Baldwin</a>'s short story "Going to Meet the Man" seems fairly straight forward. A deputy sheriff in the changing south remembers his family taking him to the lynching of a black man with the same air of excitement someone might experience on a family picnic. The details are both gruesome and disturbing, but there doesn't seem to be any hidden message, at least at first glance. However, by reading a little deeper possibilities open and Baldwin's tale of dying Old South sensibilities takes on another layer of meaning. While "Going to Meet the Man" clearly repeats themes speckled throughout the bulk of Baldwin's writing output, one small detail of the narrative could hint at a more obscure message, a three-cushion shot such as Hemingway described.<br/>Before the black man is brutally disfigured we are given his description through the eyes of the story's main character, Jesse, as a child:<br/><blockquote>He saw the forehead, flat and high, with a kind of arrow of hair in the center, like he had, like his father had; they called it a widow's peak; and the mangled eye brows, the wide nose, the closed eyes, and the glinting eye lashes and the hanging lips, all streaming with blood and sweat.</blockquote><br/>A widow's peak had also been a prominent feature of the main character in Baldwin's earlier work, "Go Tell It on the Mountain". It is mentioned when the young protagonist John Grimes studies his face in a mirror:<br/><blockquote>His father had always said that his face was the face of Satan - and was there not something - in the lift of the eyebrow, in the way his rough hair formed a V on his brow - that bore witness to his father's words?</blockquote><br/>From what Baldwin reveals of himself in his autobiographical essays, we know this passage is not far from a self portrait. Further, we see a widow's peak in photographs of Baldwin, so we know it was one of his own physical traits.<br/>From his short novel "Go Tell It on the Mountain" forward, Baldwin's writing dealt almost exclusively with racial or sexual oppression, speaking with power because it stemmed from lived experiences in Baldwin's own alienation. As "Go Tell It on the Mountain" dealt with the semi-autobiographical plights of the Harlem black, "Giovanni's Room", published in 1956 dealt with semi-autobiographical plights of the homosexual white. In reference to the latter, Baldwin once stated, "That was something I had to do; I had to work through it."<br/>In light of Baldwin's tendency to include autobiographical elements in his work, a question is raised. Could this reference to a widow's peak in "Going to Meet the Man" indicate a connection between the black man who is lynched and Baldwin himself? Is Baldwin making an autobiographic statement, and if so, to what end? Is this a purely self-centered statement or might it be interpreted with a more universal view?<br/>The first section of "Going to Meet the Man" introduces Jesse, a small town deputy sheriff in a changing South. Because of the changes taking place, he finds himself both impotent and unable to sleep. Earlier that day Jesse had brutalized a black man in the jail, the "ring leader" for a group of black protesters. Before falling unconscious, the black man reminded Jesse of an incident years before when as a boy he had defied him for showing disrespect for his grandmother. This memory fuels Jesse's unrest and paranoia because although he believes he and his fellow whites are soldiers "out-numbered, fighting to save the civilized world," but ultimately he knows they cannot succeed because they have become "accomplices in a crime."<br/>Jesse recalls one of the spirituals the black protestors had sung. It came "flying up at him" from "out of the darkness . . . out of nowhere." The song triggers the memory of a pivotal event in Jesse's life, and this story begins with another evening when he cannot sleep. Jesse's parents had told him they were going on a family picnic, but what he actually witnesses is the mutilation, castration, and burning of a black man accused of raping a white woman. A festive feeling is in the air and Jesse notes a strange beauty on his mother's face. He experiences the greatest joy of his life and a deep love for his father who "carried him through a mighty test, had revealed to him a great secret which would be the key to his life forever."<br/>Jesse is changed by this sadistic memory and "his nature again returned to him". His manhood and sexual potency seem linked to brutality and symbolically Jesse becomes the "nigger" raping his own wife, "Come on, sugar, I'm going to do you like a nigger, just like a nigger, come on, sugar, and love me just like you'd love a nigger." He labors over his wife until the morning when he hears a vehicle coming up the driveway, possibly a call back to reality and a moment when Jesse may have become more aware of his own guilt.<br/>Beyond the inclusion of Baldwin's distinctive widow's peak, elements of the story do seem to support Baldwin could have, consciously or unconsciously, placed himself within the narrative as the black man who was lynched. On a symbolic level, Baldwin himself had been mutilated, castrated, and burned. Although Baldwin's mutilation had not been literal, he had been verbally mutilated his entire life. Baldwin was not physically castrated, but because of his homosexuality he had difficulty expressing himself fully as a sexual being. He was not burned like the black man in his story, but Baldwin's sexuality did force him to live in shadows, darker than he would have normally been if he had merely been black.<br/>Baldwin's father was a strict lay preacher who not only expressed his disdain for whites but abused his son both emotionally and physically. This symbolic mutilation followed Baldwin throughout his life and formed the inspiration for the young John Grimes in "Go Tell It on the Mountain".<br/><blockquote>In the eye there was a light that was not the light of Heaven, and the mouth trembled, lustful and lewd, to drink deep of the wines of Hell. He stared at his face as though it were, as indeed it soon appeared to be, the face of a stranger, a stranger who held secrets that John could never know. And, having thought of it as a stranger might, and tried to discover what other people saw. But he saw only details; two great eyes, and a broad, low forehead, and the triangle of his nose, and his enormous mouth, and the barely perceptible cleft in his chin, which was, his father said, the mark of the devil's little finger. These details did not help him, for the principle of their unity was undiscoverable, and he could not tell what he most passionately desired to know: whether his face was ugly or not.</blockquote><br/>Along with this character, Baldwin himself dreamed of being "beautiful, tall and popular," someone who could become a poet or a college president or even a famous movie star.<br/>In "The Devil Finds Work" Baldwin recalls, "My father said, during all the years I lived with him, that I was the ugliest boy he had ever seen, and I had absolutely no reason to doubt him." The depth of his low self image is apparent in his attempt to come to grips with his father's criticism of Baldwin (and his mother) in this passage from "The Devil Finds Work":<br/><blockquote>So, here, now, was Bette Davis, on that Saturday afternoon, in close-up, over a champagne glass, pop-eyes popping. I was astounded. I had caught my father, not in a lie, but in an infirmity. For, here, before me, after all, was a <em>movie star: white:</em> and if she was white and a movie star, she was <em>rich:</em> and she was <em>ugly</em>. I felt exactly the same way I felt, just before this moment, or just after, when I was in the street, playing, and I saw an old, very black, and very drunk woman stumbling up the sidewalk, and I ran upstairs to make my mother come to the window and see what I had found: <em>You see? You see? She's uglier than you, Mama! She's uglier than me!</em></blockquote><br/>Consistent with universal elements of Baldwin's work, in his mind this symbolic physical mutilation extended beyond himself to include all blacks. In "James Baldwin's God: Sex, Hope, and Crisis in Black Holiness Culture", Clarence Hardy observes:<br/><blockquote>Ugliness does not simply describe a lack of attractiveness; in the context of Baldwin's life, ugliness is linked with a blackness that circumscribes and restricts the life chances of those who labor within its concealment and are unable to give or accept love.</blockquote><br/>In "Going to Meet the Man" the lynched man was literally castrated. In real life, the difficulties surrounding Baldwin's homosexuality in a sense left him symbolically castrated. Several of Baldwin's major works involve a character who must resolve issues related to his homosexuality. John in "Go Tell It on the Mountain" has sexual feelings for Elisha which are in conflict with his involvement in religion. In "Giovanni's Room" David cannot resolve his concerns over public opinion about his masculinity with his own homosexual feelings. The relationship between Rufus and Eric in "Another Country" was doomed by Rufus' inability to accept his feelings for another man. Although all three of these examples are also related to self-acceptance, an extension of Baldwin's problems with self image based on the symbolic physical mutilation previously mentioned, each character is unable to fully realize themselves as a sexual being because of outside constraints, both real and perceived. Each character's inability to accept their true sexual identity left them emasculated.<br/>In his study of gay self-representation in fiction, David Bergman argues Baldwin carefully portrays all potentially gay main characters as bisexual. They are never depicted as "'faggots', by which Baldwin means exclusively and effeminately homosexual." This line of separation seems to echo Baldwin's own similar struggles. Baldwin finds it difficult to represent his characters as fully homosexual, much as he struggled with labeling himself as such.<br/>Once the black man had been castrated, "the crowd rushed forward, tearing at the body with their hands, with knives, with rocks, with stones, howling and cursing." Once the man had been castrated, his sexuality being cut away, he became something which could be consumed by the general population. He had already been a spectacle, but remained unapproachable because his sexuality made him a complete being. In a similar fashion, the emasculation of Baldwin was necessary before the general public could approach his other parts.<br/>African male homosexuals have been shadowy figures in American Literature; they have been present, but not always seen or acknowledged. Melvin Dixon and Kendall Thomas argue the James Baldwin remembered and canonized by some is a man stripped of his homosexuality. Baldwin expressed his thoughts on homosexuality and race in a 1986 interview with Richard Goldstein of the Village Voice (published in James Baldwin: The Legacy, edited by Quincy Troupe, 1989):<br/><blockquote>A black gay person who is a sexual conundrum to society is already, long before the question of sexuality comes into it, menaced and marked because he's black or she's black. The sexual question comes after the question of color; it's simply one more aspect of the danger in which all black people live.</blockquote><br/>Because the character had already been born black, the process of burning would not have been necessary to change his skin color. The burning is something which was done to him, and therefore might represent some other process. Perhaps the process of burning the lynched man could represent the gay black man's relegation to the shadows. Through fire, Baldwin is refined and made presentable; his sins are left in the dark corners and do not need to be faced.<br/>While the man in the story is being burned because he has been accused of raping a white woman, this is only an accusation and its heterosexual implications, if we accept the lynched black man represents Baldwin, could represent how some readers would like to impose a "normal" sexual orientation upon writers they admire, possibly in an attempt to ignore and make homosexuality a non-issue.<br/>Baldwin's own feelings about sexual relations between a black man and a white woman, and between two men, might have been characterized by Leo in "Tell Me How Long the Train's Been Gone". Leo recalls these possibilities, sex with a white woman and sex with a man, as the two forbidden desires of his life. If this story followed Baldwin's tendency to inject his own views and feelings into those of his characters, Leo's feelings might reveal the author viewed these desires and actions as taboo.<br/>Burning is the final part the lynching sequence in "Going to Meet the Man". The things which had not been addressed by the crowd's mutilation were "taken care of by the fire". In a parallel manner, that which the public could not otherwise contain enough to face through symbolic mutilation and castration of Baldwin could be made dark and thereby relegated to the secrecy and anonyminity of the shadows. In the story Jesse recalls, "The head was caved in, one eye was torn out, one ear was hanging. But one had to look carefully to realize this, for it was, now, merely, a black charred object in the black, charred ground."<br/>James Baldwin, once sanitized and repackaged for the masses, is left merely an object, an author without an unpleasant human reality attached. But upon looking more closely, we can see how this view leaves the reality of Baldwin twisted and mangled.<br/>If the lynched black man does represent Baldwin, what role does Jesse play in the story's symbolism? The role of the crowd seems obvious enough, they are the masses who read, criticize, and ultimately seek to categorize Baldwin. But could Jesse serve some role other than a part of the crowd?<br/>While Jesse seemed to feel a loss associated with the fading Old South, where blacks were relegated to a lower, almost non-human class, he also seemed to feel some guilt over his participation as an accomplice in "the crime". Both in his abuse of the black protester and his observation of the lynching, Jesse recalled a moment of looking into each victim's eyes. Ultimately, we may believe Jesse will never feel fully justified for his role in both these crimes and will be required to live with or oppress this feeling of guilt for the rest of his life.<br/>In a similar manner, members of the white culture today must deal with their participation in crimes perpetuated against blacks in the past. Whether they were direct participants or merely onlookers, feelings of guilt will be present. Each person might have different methods of dealing with these feelings. Like Jesse, we can attempt to suppress these feelings, or we may choose to perpetuate these crimes directly through our own actions. Therefore, Jesse could be said to represent the individual, the member of the crowd. He may or may not have been the one perpetuating the crime, but he will still have to deal with it on a personal level, one way or another.<br/>Regardless of Baldwin's conscious intentions in writing "Going to Meet the Man", which we do not find clearly explained by Baldwin himself within his published works or personal interviews, the piece can easily lend itself to a broad interpretation as Baldwin's own commentary on his life and times. Accepted interpretations of Baldwin's other works show the personal revelation he often infused into his writing. We know enough of Baldwin's life to see he was clearly abused as a child, made to feel worthless, and these actions brought on a struggle with self acceptance and identity which followed and plagued Baldwin throughout his life. We know through direct self revelation that Baldwin lived and struggled with living a gay lifestyle. We also know through history both blacks and gays were generally unaccepted and persecuted by the largely white American culture.<br/>Baldwin placed himself and his experiences inside his stories to lend depth and truth to his writing. However, it is important to note Baldwin did not ultimately see himself or his characters as victims. If Baldwin did intend the lynched man in "Going to Meet the Man" to represent himself, it would be important to remember the larger message of hope and healing which is central to Baldwin's corpus of writing. We have to remember the great amount of sympathy he conveys for all the marginalized, not limited to blacks or gays.<br/>In "Critical Theory Today" Lois Tyson points out the difficulties of interpreting a piece as though the author is projecting his unconscious desires, fears, wounds, or unresolved conflicts onto a story's characters, setting, and events.<br/><blockquote>Psychoanalyzing an author in this manner is a difficult undertaking, and our analysis must be carefully derived by examining the author's entire corpus as well as letters, diaries, and any other biographical material available.</blockquote><br/>Clearly an isolated piece is bound to present an incomplete picture, but it doesn't necessarily follow psychological information cannot be found within a single work; especially since the same themes occur in Baldwin's other pieces.<br/>Noting the political and social agendas of Baldwin's other works, it does not require a large leap of faith to assume Baldwin had some personal agenda behind the writing of "Going to Meet the Man." But even if such an assumption were proved to be false, and it could be solidly refuted that Baldwin could not have had some subconscious intention for writing the story, one which served his own private internal struggles, nevertheless this story would still serve as an adequate framework for outlining an examination for lifelong struggles Baldwin faced as a black, gay man and a writer, as well as the struggles faced by others who struggled with labels of a similar kind.Terry Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12072061386395979977noreply@blogger.com