Friday, January 22, 2010

Coping

In Elizabeth Bishop’s poem “One Art,” the author attempts to convince herself that the art of losing can be mastered, which eventually contrary to her original goal, leads to an acceptance of her disaster. We all have different ways of dealing with loss and grief but this poem offers insight into one person’s dealings with grief. “One Art” is Elizabeth Bishop’s response to the question of how to cope.

The poem is an emotional progression. Elizabeth builds upon examples where she has been able to cope. This poem lists in consequential the things that are most important to the speaker just as Natasha Tretheway does in her poem “White Lies.” She begins with daily losses, the door keys. Each one of us has experiences the exasperated search for lost keys. It is annoying but bearable. Next she moves on to names and places, things that are more personal. She still could cope. The author builds her confidence as she lists things she was able to overcome. She does this in order to be able to list the one thing she feels is destroying her.

Originally, I felt that the last stanza was an afterthought, an unexpected aside because of the dash’ however, I was wrong. The last refrain is the most significant; it is pitted against the majority of the poem to the left of the dash. The last refrain is more personal. Twice the author uses parenthesis to insert intimate comments: a memorable characteristics of her lover “the joking voice, a gesture I love,” and note to herself “Write it!” The last stanza is also a shift in subject. The first part of the poem is reflective where as in the last stanza the poem gains an audience, a “you.” It is in the last stanza the author attempts to overcome the loss of her lover and it is here she falters.

“One Art” is written in the villanelle style. A villanelle consists of nineteen lines with a repeating refrain. “One Art” follows this pattern… mostly. The poem has nineteen lines and a repeating refrain but Bishops slightly shifts the last refrain. Her changes to the traditional villanelle style emphasize the poem’s emotional shift in the last refrain. Instead of repeating the line,” The art of losing isn’t hard to master,” she utters, “The art of losing isn’t too hard to master.” In the culmination of her attempt to defend herself from grief, she realizes that this overwhelming feeling truly is a disaster. The last line symbolizes her final acceptance of the grief when she instructs herself to (“Write it!”). This directive aimed at the author herself leaves me with a burning image of the two words like disaster.

It is as if she is forcing herself to accept the reality of situation even after she spent the remainder of the poem attempting to convince herself that she would okay, that she could overcome her loss. As someone who is clearly experienced in the art of losing, as demonstrated by her long list, she cannot master loss this time, losing anything and everything does not compare with the loss of her lover. Through writing she discovers this. What began as a way of defensive coping turned into acceptance. By writing the two words like disaster, the author knows them to be true. It is because of these two words that the poem feels genuine and true. The author engages the readers very intimately by allowing them a glimpse into her own life. She makes us believe that contrary to the repeated refrain during the first few lines of poem, the art of losing is hard to master. So the question is, is losing ever easy?

Sunday, December 6, 2009

A difference in perspectives

J.M. Coetzee’s Waiting for the Barbarians and Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darknes are undeniable similar in many aspects. Each tells the story of a seemingly prosperous man of high social standing succumbing the enticing thralls of nature. In each, nature or the native ways are portrayed by feminine counterparts, and both have surrendered their part in their own society. Their disobedience is seen as threatening. Waiting for the Barbarians and the Heart of Darkness differ in their perspectives.

The Heart of Darkness is narrated, mostly, by Marlow, who is only a witness to the fall of Kurtz. It is Kurtz, the well-respected, most prosperous trader of the region who falls victim to the whims of the wilderness. We see the story through the eyes of someone who has not yet undergone the mental changes associated with the native ways but is currently beginning to question his own ideals. Marlow himself begins to feel the tug of the wilderness upon him. By having Marlow tell the story, readers can more easily associate with the story. It is the it-can-happen-to-them-but-it-will-never-happen-to-me complex. Nature swallows whole the character of Kurtz but leaves Marlow only partially scathed destines to bear Kurtz’s testimony. This narration is only a partial upheaval. Readers can choose to see the destruction of to ignore it and enjoy a good adventure story.

This is not the case in J.M. Coetzee’s Waiting for the Barbarians. As stated in Douglass Kerr’s article, “Three Ways of Going Wrong: Kipling, Conrad and Coetzee,” “the story is not circumscribed by and processed through the lawman’s gaze and memory. The means of narration are in the hands of the transgressor…” The perspective shifts from the witness to the “victim.” It is the Magistrate himself who undergoes a personal revelation. He relinquishes his peaceful life in order to become that “One Just Man,” even in the face of certain failure. His narration is all the more startling. We, as readers, witness both the gradual and drastic shifts in his psyche and his suffering. We cannot ignore the implications of the words on the page. Unlike Conrad’s novel, Waiting for the Barbarians cannot be read for anything other than what it truly is purely because of the perspective. (369)

Saturday, November 28, 2009

Questions for Waiting for the Barbarians

Earlier in the story we see the narrator’s sympathy for the prisoners and his outrage because of their mistreatment, but his opinion shifts. The colonel sends him many prisoners to hold; some are not barbarians. At first, they are a curiosity and a pleasure. Both the town and he are entranced. “Then, all together, we lose sympathy with them.” (p. 19). Their differences that were once endearing and tolerable become disgusting and intolerable. He wants them gone just as his people do. He wants peace but at what cost?

 

“It would be best if this obscure chapter in history were terminated at once, if these ugly people were obliterated from the face of the earth and we swore to make a new start, a new empire in which there would be no more injustice, no more pain. It would cost little to march them out into the desert (having put a meal in them first, perhaps to make the march possible), to have them dig with their last strength a pit large enough for all of them to lie in (or even to dig it for them!), and leaving them buried forever…. But that will not be my way…. I struggle with the old story, hoping that before it is finished it will reveal to me why it was that I thought it was worth the trouble.” Waiting for the Barbarians (p. 24) If he wants a quiet life then why is anything worth the trouble?

 

            Lastly, if the Empire is able to formulate an opinion and have it be known as truth, why does the Colonel need to search for the “Truth?” Is it all a mirage, the torture and the abuse, just props needed to convince the public that there truly is a rebellion upon them. The Empire has evoked a feeling of hysteria among its citizens. “The is no women living in the frontier who has not dreamed of a dark barbarian hand coming from under the bed to grip her ankle…” (p. 8) The magistrate does not believe but the incommunicado of the prisoners has a evoked a feeling of disgust towards the barbarians, almost enough to have them “buried forever.” It is a mirage to promote unity? (372).

Sunday, November 22, 2009

My Initial Reactions to J.M. Coetzee's Waiting for the Barbarians

The magistrate is both observant and knowledgeable of his small town on the edge of the empire. He demonstrates his awareness of the “native ways” in the very first page of the book.  He considers himself a simple with simple and attainable desires. “ I am… a responsible official in the service of the Empire, serving out my days on this lazy frontier, waiting to retire…. I have not asked for more than a quiet life in quiet times.” (p. 8) But we witness his realizations that perhaps he is not as ordinary as he originally judged himself to be. Observing is much more convincing than listening.

Not only do readers better trust the narrator because of observations but also the narrator is more distrusting of the Empire due to observations. The Empire has evoked a feeling of hysteria among its citizens. “The is no women living in the frontier who has not dreamed of a dark barbarian hand coming from under the bed to grip her ankle…” (p. 8) The rumors spread but the faster they spread the more closely they resembled the truth. The magistrate is not swayed. “Show me a barbarian army and I will believe.” (p. 8) He is not fooled. The employees of the Empire are renamed “devotees of truth [or] doctors of interrogation” (p. 8) but our narrator is not blinded. The seeing of Truth is a major theme that reoccurs often throughout the novella. (I was reminded time and time again of Big Brother from George Orwell’s novel 1984. Especially when telling with the blurring of truth and programmed public opinion.)

            J.M. Coetzee’s style is very understandable. We have a single narrator relaying a story. It felt as if I was in the magistrate head. We see both his observations and participate in his interpretations. The active voice is predominantly used because our narrator is often describing a situation but during specifically striking scenes the narrator begins to use more complicated syntax and vocabulary. His omission of both names of characters and places is one to note. We had yet to learn the name of even the outpost. (355)

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Degrees of Racism

As gleaned from her title, “Heart of Darkness and Racism,” Hunt Hawkins attempts to describe the degree of racism found in Joseph Conrad’s novella.

She criticizes Chinua Achebe’s harsh disapproval of the novel as “bloody racist.”

She suggests that perhaps a critique of racism is not the main purpose of the novel but rather Conrad’s main focus was to critique European imperialism.

Conrad does not present a story free from racism. The Africans in the novel have neither names nor many pages devoted to their stories, they are often described as animal-like and even when they display human qualities they are somehow separated from white humanity. Despite the “endemic” racism of his time, he “did not share the racism of his time.”

He very clearly did not demonstrate “bloody racism,” but rather a lesser degree of racism as well as a different kind.

Achebe even goes far enough to state that Conrad’s work promotes genocide. It is clear that in the face of extreme cultural racism, Heart of Darkness is an exception.

The importance of Heart of Darkness lies within the acknowledgement of extreme human rights abuses so that it has entered our language as such.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

The Bible as in The Sound and the Fury

After reading the first three sections, I had not noticed much in the form of religion. After reading Mary Fletcher’s article, Edenic Images in “The Sound and the Fury,” I began to feel the religious undertone of the novel. The Compson family seemed not to practice religion at all. Mother preached that each family should be a good Christian but she did not follow her own advice. Father seemed to be a cynic of man. Dilsey, who is not truly a Compson by blood, seemed to be the only true believer in religion. The Compson family is void of both faith and spirituality, yet Faulkner references the bible many a time.

The article main focus is that of the ancient pear tree in the Compson yard; the tree that both Caddy and her daughter climb. Caddy climbs the tree in order to better understand what is going on in the house (Damuddy’s funeral). Although seemingly just another image of the rebellious Caddy the article points to the recurrence of the pear tree throughout the novel. Quentin also climbs the tree in order to escape the madhouse she has been living in and rob both Jason of his money and the Compson family of continuity. In Caddy’s case the tree serves as an allusion to the tree of knowledge as well as a foreshadowing of her “moral fall and consequent alienation.” (p.141, Fletcher) She refuses to obey her father’s command to stay out of the pear tree to instead gain an insight on Damuddy’s funeral.  The tree is a very important point of reference but the Compson grounds offer many allusions as well.

The river that flows through the property brings to mind images of Eden. The children often play in the river. Through Benjy’s eyes, it is at the river we are first introduced to the characters’ characteristics and relationships. The Compson grounds as seen by Benjy are a luscious garden similar to a reader’s image of Eden. Benjy himself serves as a biblical allusion both his name and his innocence reference the bible. Benjy is the only character that does not ever leave his garden or his innocent image of the world. He spends almost all of his time outside whereas Mother stays inside and Jason stays in town. The other children all decide to leave. Benjamin is the only child who stays innocent but that is only because he is “mindless.” The article states he is “Faulkner’s human equivalent of innocence.”(p.142, Fletcher) In Faulkner’s eyes no “normal” human being that has the power to think can be innocent; the power of knowledge is what the tree offers in the bible. Benjy can never have that knowledge.

By reading Fletcher’s article I began to spot the hidden religious analogies throughout the novel before beginning section four. This was very beneficial to me as a reader. An omnipresent narrator relays the fourth section. It is in the fourth section we witness the spirituality of Dilsey juxtaposed with the religion of mother. Mother keeps a bible by her bed but it seems as if even God cannot move her. In class we discussed whether religion could have saved the Compson family and especially Caddy from tragedy. I think that the better question is whether or not the Compson family would be capable of “faith” and if that could have helped their family. Why does Faulkner reference both religion the Compsons’ lack of religion so often? What statement is he trying to make to the readers about faith? (595)

The Bible as in The Sound and the Fury

After reading the first three sections, I had not noticed much in the form of religion. After reading Mary Fletcher’s article, Edenic Images in “The Sound and the Fury,” I began to feel the religious undertone of the novel. The Compson family seemed not to practice religion at all. Mother preached that each family should be a good Christian but she did not follow her own advice. Father seemed to be a cynic of man. Dilsey, who is not truly a Compson by blood, seemed to be the only true believer in religion. The Compson family is void of both faith and spirituality, yet Faulkner references the bible many a time.

The article main focus is that of the ancient pear tree in the Compson yard; the tree that both Caddy and her daughter climb. Caddy climbs the tree in order to better understand what is going on in the house (Damuddy’s funeral). Although seemingly just another image of the rebellious Caddy the article points to the recurrence of the pear tree throughout the novel. Quentin also climbs the tree in order to escape the madhouse she has been living in and rob both Jason of his money and the Compson family of continuity. In Caddy’s case the tree serves as an allusion to the tree of knowledge as well as a foreshadowing of her “moral fall and consequent alienation.” (p.141, Fletcher) She refuses to obey her father’s command to stay out of the pear tree to instead gain an insight on Damuddy’s funeral.  The tree is a very important point of reference but the Compson grounds offer many allusions as well.

The river that flows through the property brings to mind images of Eden. The children often play in the river. Through Benjy’s eyes, it is at the river we are first introduced to the characters’ characteristics and relationships. The Compson grounds as seen by Benjy are a luscious garden similar to a reader’s image of Eden. Benjy himself serves as a biblical allusion both his name and his innocence reference the bible. Benjy is the only character that does not ever leave his garden or his innocent image of the world. He spends almost all of his time outside whereas Mother stays inside and Jason stays in town. The other children all decide to leave. Benjamin is the only child who stays innocent but that is only because he is “mindless.” The article states he is “Faulkner’s human equivalent of innocence.”(p.142, Fletcher) In Faulkner’s eyes no “normal” human being that has the power to think can be innocent; the power of knowledge is what the tree offers in the bible. Benjy can never have that knowledge.

By reading Fletcher’s article I began to spot the hidden religious analogies throughout the novel before beginning section four. This was very beneficial to me as a reader. An omnipresent narrator relays the fourth section. It is in the fourth section we witness the spirituality of Dilsey juxtaposed with the religion of mother. Mother keeps a bible by her bed but it seems as if even God cannot move her. In class we discussed whether religion could have saved the Compson family and especially Caddy from tragedy. I think that the better question is whether or not the Compson family would be capable of “faith” and if that could have helped their family. Why does Faulkner reference both religion the Compsons’ lack of religion so often? What statement is he trying to make to the readers about faith? (595)