"I had saved a human being from destruction, and as a recompense I now writhed under the miserable pain of a wound which shattered the flesh and bone." p. 135
Well I must say, I've spent quite a long time discussing our good friend Victor, but I've really neglected to say much about the characterization of everyone's favorite sterotypical Italian plumber. Or monster. Either way, really, I am of course speaking of Mario.
Mario starts off as a baby, essentially, as shown by the way in which he reaches out to Victor, his father figure, and slaps on a goofy baby grin. This, of course, is terrifying to Victor, but really he just wants some love. However, this initially rejection just starts a long cycle of repeated instances of Mario saying "lovemelovemelovemelovemeloveme" and everyone else just beating him with sticks. Yeowch. So he goes out into the wild, and at some point, he enters a town to talk with people, at which time he is first beaten with said sticks and run right out of town. So you'd think he'd be pretty bummed, at this point, but don't worry, Mario is still but an innocent child at heart, and he is confident that someday he'll find people who will accept him. So he decides to befriend the DeLaceys while under the impression that the decency he's observed before will make them treat him compassionately. However, one lady faints, one lady flees, and guess what Felix does! He beats him with a stick. So Mario runs off again, and now he's starting to get a little ticked, so he burns down the abandoned DeLacey cottage and takes off into the wilderness, at which time, he finds a lady drowning in the river. Now, Mario's been treated like crap thus far, so it certainly would have been expected of the big guy to just keep on walking and not help her out. But rather, he goes out of his way, saves her life, begins to resuscitate her, and how is he thanked? If you answered that he's beaten with a stick, you'd actually be wrong. Nahh, he gets shot. Poor fella. So that is essentially the last straw. Mario flips out and begins his killing spree, ultimately leading up to his murder of Elizabeth and the death of Victor, and eventually Mario himself.
So that might have seemed like a lot of plot summary, but I feel that really it's the best way to represent Mario's progression as a character. He starts off innocent like a child, but the world just hates him. However, he does not begin to give up on humanity until his encounter with the DeLaceys. But even after that, he is still a good and decent critter, not even close to being worthy of the title "monster." However, his last decent act is repaid with hatred, and he just quits. Ultimately this is the outline of his transition from a fairly human-like character to a totally brutal and bloodthirsty monster.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Frankenstein - The End
"I shall die, and what I now feel be no longer felt. Soon these burning miseries will be extinct." p. 211
Well that's pretty much sadder than a box full of hungry hungry kittens. Honestly, it's a wonder why the most suicide-prone profession is not writers. They simply strike me as such a depressing bunch of people. I feel as though the ratio of sad endings to happy endings in literature is somewhere around 1000:1. It's reached the point where it's not even realistic anymore. People argue, in real life, not everything is a happy ending....Which is certainly true, but I like to think that they constitute more than .1% of the endings in the world. Yesterday, I drove to school. On the way, I was not involved in a fatal car accident. Happy Ending. I forgot to do my math homework, but I finished it before class. Happy Ending. Honestly, I think that happy endings occur more often than sad endings. Or perhaps i'm just an extremely fortunate person. Who knows.
But I digress.
Let's talk about that ending, shall we? So Frankenstein finally finishes his story, and then he dies. Convenient, am I right? Sure would've made a crappy story if he died halfway through chapter 14. So then Mario also shows up, and I am still amazed by his ability to sneak about utterly undetected despite his massive size. He weeps over the body of his Daddy, taking the blame for his death. Now that vengeance has been exacted, he's not really happy at all. He's just a miserable little giant. And now, according to the quote above, he's just going to truck off to the north pole either to die or start working in Santa's Workshop. The ending is pretty ambiguous, so I'm still pulling for the latter. Sequel, anyone?
Well that's pretty much sadder than a box full of hungry hungry kittens. Honestly, it's a wonder why the most suicide-prone profession is not writers. They simply strike me as such a depressing bunch of people. I feel as though the ratio of sad endings to happy endings in literature is somewhere around 1000:1. It's reached the point where it's not even realistic anymore. People argue, in real life, not everything is a happy ending....Which is certainly true, but I like to think that they constitute more than .1% of the endings in the world. Yesterday, I drove to school. On the way, I was not involved in a fatal car accident. Happy Ending. I forgot to do my math homework, but I finished it before class. Happy Ending. Honestly, I think that happy endings occur more often than sad endings. Or perhaps i'm just an extremely fortunate person. Who knows.
But I digress.
Let's talk about that ending, shall we? So Frankenstein finally finishes his story, and then he dies. Convenient, am I right? Sure would've made a crappy story if he died halfway through chapter 14. So then Mario also shows up, and I am still amazed by his ability to sneak about utterly undetected despite his massive size. He weeps over the body of his Daddy, taking the blame for his death. Now that vengeance has been exacted, he's not really happy at all. He's just a miserable little giant. And now, according to the quote above, he's just going to truck off to the north pole either to die or start working in Santa's Workshop. The ending is pretty ambiguous, so I'm still pulling for the latter. Sequel, anyone?
Frankenstein - Characterization
"Again do I vow vengeance; again do I devote thee, miserable fiend, to torture and death. Never will I give up my search until he or I perish" p. 195
Let's talk about that characterization of Frankenstein. He's a fairly dynamic character, so what exactly changes in him? Before the experiment, he is a bright, optimistic, and adventure-loving young lad. He is paralleled with Walton the explorer as a scientist venturing into the unknown. He also dearly loves his friends and family, particularly Elizabeth. Furthermore, he loves science and the art of experimentation and discovery. He concerns himself solely with the scientific aspect of his actions and not with the moral implications therein. This all gradually changes over time.
The first change occurs before the experiment actually takes place, as he begins to distance himself from his loved ones. He cuts off all contact from them and practically forgets that they even exist. Next, his love of science disappears instantly after his experiment is a success. Suddenly, he no longer cares at all about the incredible scientific breakthrough he has accomplished, and is only able to think "Oh crap, I really shouldn't have done this," which is essentially him focusing on the moral aspect of his actions. Eventually, he returns home and begins to rekindle those family connections, but even though he is physically close to them, his melancholy demeanor still distances him emotionally. However, he still seems to have that love of adventure, as shown by his admiration of nature when he goes off into the mountains on his own, shortly before he meets Mario again. Afterwards, now that Frankenstein has been forced into this new task, he has an even harder time connecting with the family he was once so close to, and his newest project cuts him off from his family and forces him to leave, thus cutting his family ties even further. Also, his love of nature and spirit of adventure is finally extinguished by the time he reaches England with Henry, who is now amazed by the beautiful landscape. Henry, who now parallels Walton, is now a foil to Victor, who no longer finds any pleasure in nature. The various things that once defined Victor have gradually been stripped away, ending finally with the climax of the entire novel, the murder of Elizabeth, his most beloved companion. His social ties have now been ultimately and irreparably severed, and the only aspect of Victor's personality, the one trait that has now surfaced in the absence of his other previous traits, is vengeance. The thirst for revenge, as encapsulated by the quote above, now defines Victor's character, and he has made the full transition from human being at the beginning to total monster by the very end.
Let's talk about that characterization of Frankenstein. He's a fairly dynamic character, so what exactly changes in him? Before the experiment, he is a bright, optimistic, and adventure-loving young lad. He is paralleled with Walton the explorer as a scientist venturing into the unknown. He also dearly loves his friends and family, particularly Elizabeth. Furthermore, he loves science and the art of experimentation and discovery. He concerns himself solely with the scientific aspect of his actions and not with the moral implications therein. This all gradually changes over time.
The first change occurs before the experiment actually takes place, as he begins to distance himself from his loved ones. He cuts off all contact from them and practically forgets that they even exist. Next, his love of science disappears instantly after his experiment is a success. Suddenly, he no longer cares at all about the incredible scientific breakthrough he has accomplished, and is only able to think "Oh crap, I really shouldn't have done this," which is essentially him focusing on the moral aspect of his actions. Eventually, he returns home and begins to rekindle those family connections, but even though he is physically close to them, his melancholy demeanor still distances him emotionally. However, he still seems to have that love of adventure, as shown by his admiration of nature when he goes off into the mountains on his own, shortly before he meets Mario again. Afterwards, now that Frankenstein has been forced into this new task, he has an even harder time connecting with the family he was once so close to, and his newest project cuts him off from his family and forces him to leave, thus cutting his family ties even further. Also, his love of nature and spirit of adventure is finally extinguished by the time he reaches England with Henry, who is now amazed by the beautiful landscape. Henry, who now parallels Walton, is now a foil to Victor, who no longer finds any pleasure in nature. The various things that once defined Victor have gradually been stripped away, ending finally with the climax of the entire novel, the murder of Elizabeth, his most beloved companion. His social ties have now been ultimately and irreparably severed, and the only aspect of Victor's personality, the one trait that has now surfaced in the absence of his other previous traits, is vengeance. The thirst for revenge, as encapsulated by the quote above, now defines Victor's character, and he has made the full transition from human being at the beginning to total monster by the very end.
Frankenstein - Symbols
"I lighted the dry branch of a tree and danced with fury around the devoted cottage, my eyes still fixed on the western horizon, the edge of which the moon nearly touched." p. 132
Light and fire are two prominent symbols throughout the novel that essentially represent knowledge. Even as far back as Walton's first few letters to his sister, light has represented knowledge attained through the scientific process: "What may not be expected in a country of light?" p. 15. The flash of lightning that splits a tree stump serves as an impetus for Lil Victor to pursue science as a profession p. 40. However, though knowledge can oftentimes be used for good and the betterment of the human species, other times, it can be misused and abused to bring harm to the world. Well, hey, that's where the fire comes in.
You see, children, fire and light are connected, and in the knowledge symbolism sandwich, they are essentially two sides of the same coin. One can illuminate a room by either flipping a light switch or tossing in a molotov cocktail. Either way works, really, but the latter is a bit more destructive, really. Thus, light and fire both represent knowledge, but whenever fire is used, it represents the more destructive and dangerous things that come along with the attainment of knowledge. This is first hinted at when Mario discovers fire p. 100 and how the light and warmth are both pleasing to him. However, when he gets tooooo clooooose, that same light suddenly is not quite so pleasant. Knowledge hurts, don't it, Mario? This fire symbolism ultimately cultivates in Mario's realization of the knowledge that the whole world hates him forever, so he resolves to burn the whole place down, starting with that cottage over there. It's a good start, big fella, but you've got a lot more knowledge to gain before you'll ever be happy :D fwoooosh.
(he'll never be happy)
Light and fire are two prominent symbols throughout the novel that essentially represent knowledge. Even as far back as Walton's first few letters to his sister, light has represented knowledge attained through the scientific process: "What may not be expected in a country of light?" p. 15. The flash of lightning that splits a tree stump serves as an impetus for Lil Victor to pursue science as a profession p. 40. However, though knowledge can oftentimes be used for good and the betterment of the human species, other times, it can be misused and abused to bring harm to the world. Well, hey, that's where the fire comes in.
You see, children, fire and light are connected, and in the knowledge symbolism sandwich, they are essentially two sides of the same coin. One can illuminate a room by either flipping a light switch or tossing in a molotov cocktail. Either way works, really, but the latter is a bit more destructive, really. Thus, light and fire both represent knowledge, but whenever fire is used, it represents the more destructive and dangerous things that come along with the attainment of knowledge. This is first hinted at when Mario discovers fire p. 100 and how the light and warmth are both pleasing to him. However, when he gets tooooo clooooose, that same light suddenly is not quite so pleasant. Knowledge hurts, don't it, Mario? This fire symbolism ultimately cultivates in Mario's realization of the knowledge that the whole world hates him forever, so he resolves to burn the whole place down, starting with that cottage over there. It's a good start, big fella, but you've got a lot more knowledge to gain before you'll ever be happy :D fwoooosh.
(he'll never be happy)
Frankenstein - Abortion
"I, the miserable and the abandoned, am an abortion, to be spurned at, and kicked, and trampled on. Even now my blood boils at the recollection of this injustice." p. 210
I'll be tackling what appears to be a motif of Frankenstein: unwanted life. Ever since Victor first created Mario (Mario of course being the creature), there has been this idea of a life existing that nobody really wanted to exist. Mario was, in fact, alive, but Frankenstein immediately regretted it, and actually set out to destroy the life that he created. There's just this sense that now that some living thing has become an inconvenience, it is acceptable to extinguish that little spark of life. This sounds eerily similar to a process that exists today, and Shelley finally mentions it by name on the second-to-last page: Abortion. BOOM. This blog post just got real.
So how about that? Could this novel actually be a commentary on the abortion of adorable unborn babies? Up until five minutes ago, I had no idea if they even practiced abortions way back in The Olden Times, but apparently abortion has been practiced since The Very Olden Times, and maybe even Way Before Those Times! So I like to think that it's actually extremely possible that Shelley is commenting on abortion. But more importantly, what exactly is she saying? Shelley is a noted feminist, so does she portray abortion as a good right that protects a woman's ability to do whatever she may want with her own body? Well...no. You see, throughout the novel, as Victor's desire to terminate the life he created increases, his resemblance to what we actually consider a monster increases as well. He gradually becomes more brutal and less human, more bloodthirsty and less compassionate. He stops caring about human relationships, the beauty of nature, and even science, his one true love (♥). As he abandons these human qualities and becomes more animalistic, it simply reveals that Shelley is conveying her belief that abortion is in fact a monstrous practice.
I'll be tackling what appears to be a motif of Frankenstein: unwanted life. Ever since Victor first created Mario (Mario of course being the creature), there has been this idea of a life existing that nobody really wanted to exist. Mario was, in fact, alive, but Frankenstein immediately regretted it, and actually set out to destroy the life that he created. There's just this sense that now that some living thing has become an inconvenience, it is acceptable to extinguish that little spark of life. This sounds eerily similar to a process that exists today, and Shelley finally mentions it by name on the second-to-last page: Abortion. BOOM. This blog post just got real.
So how about that? Could this novel actually be a commentary on the abortion of adorable unborn babies? Up until five minutes ago, I had no idea if they even practiced abortions way back in The Olden Times, but apparently abortion has been practiced since The Very Olden Times, and maybe even Way Before Those Times! So I like to think that it's actually extremely possible that Shelley is commenting on abortion. But more importantly, what exactly is she saying? Shelley is a noted feminist, so does she portray abortion as a good right that protects a woman's ability to do whatever she may want with her own body? Well...no. You see, throughout the novel, as Victor's desire to terminate the life he created increases, his resemblance to what we actually consider a monster increases as well. He gradually becomes more brutal and less human, more bloodthirsty and less compassionate. He stops caring about human relationships, the beauty of nature, and even science, his one true love (♥). As he abandons these human qualities and becomes more animalistic, it simply reveals that Shelley is conveying her belief that abortion is in fact a monstrous practice.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Frankenstein - Convenient License
"This was indeed a godlike science, and I ardently desired to become acquainted with it." p. 106-107
I for one find it very impressive that The Creature should be able to learn how to speak human language purely by observation (although I suppose that's how all of us learn it, really), however it still seems rather unbelievable that he should learn to speak it so well and in so little time, too. The conversation that he carries on with Victor is not, in fact, a simple conversation containing language akin to a five-year-old, but rather a fairly complex conversation utilizing high-level diction. In fact, it's a little too impressive. Frankly, I just don't believe it. I could understand it if he had learned the language while immersed in an urban environment in which people might help him along. However, to achieve such a mastery of language simply by observing poor cottagers living all the way out in the boonies of Switzerland sounds a tad preposterous, so I'll go ahead and label this as Convenient License, wherein it is more convenient for The Creature to understand how to speak with other people, and thus Mary Shelley makes it so. It honestly reminds me a bit of the Star Trek series in that every alien race speaks English and resembles a human being while every planet has similar gravity and atmosphere composition as Earth. It's just more convenient, although logically preposterous. So if there's not a word for that concept yet, I hereby declare it to be Convenient License.
I for one find it very impressive that The Creature should be able to learn how to speak human language purely by observation (although I suppose that's how all of us learn it, really), however it still seems rather unbelievable that he should learn to speak it so well and in so little time, too. The conversation that he carries on with Victor is not, in fact, a simple conversation containing language akin to a five-year-old, but rather a fairly complex conversation utilizing high-level diction. In fact, it's a little too impressive. Frankly, I just don't believe it. I could understand it if he had learned the language while immersed in an urban environment in which people might help him along. However, to achieve such a mastery of language simply by observing poor cottagers living all the way out in the boonies of Switzerland sounds a tad preposterous, so I'll go ahead and label this as Convenient License, wherein it is more convenient for The Creature to understand how to speak with other people, and thus Mary Shelley makes it so. It honestly reminds me a bit of the Star Trek series in that every alien race speaks English and resembles a human being while every planet has similar gravity and atmosphere composition as Earth. It's just more convenient, although logically preposterous. So if there's not a word for that concept yet, I hereby declare it to be Convenient License.
Frankenstein - Green?
"It became a thing such as even Dante could not have conceived." p. 57
Wait a second, Doc, you're saying it wrong. You're supposed to yell "It's aliiiive!" and then thunder crashes and the monster rampages around your laboratory, breaking lots of delicate instruments. And oh yeah, don't you live in a castle?
This book is not really close to the general perception that people have towards Frankenstein('s monster). I must admit that I was actually disappointed when there was no classic shout of victory upon the animation of The Creature. Every Frankenstein movie ever made has that line, heck, even the pseudo-movie-poster that is hanging in The Deuce has those two words scrawled across the paper. Furthermore, it's a little odd to see that Frankenstein is in fact a college student living alone in an apartment, rather than an old mad scientist living in a castle with his hunch-backed croney Igor. Even the events concerning the reanimation are different. I always imagined lightning, I don't know why, I don't think I've ever actually seen a Frankenstein movie, but lightning really ought to play a prominent role, I've decided, but really there's just a bit of a light drizzle. It's just sort of weird to see that the common perception of Frankenstein('s monster) is so radically different from the actually story itself. So why is that? Here's a theory:
Lots of people like horror movies. And I'll give you a good recipe for a horror movie: create a monster which is terrifying and evil and prone to indiscriminate destruction, and yells a lot of unintelligible moans and grunts, and make him really gruesome, with green skin and lots of scars and big random bolts on the side of the neck. Here's a terrible idea for a horror movie: create a monster with which the audience can sympathize. Nobody gets scared by a monster that just wants love from his metaphorical father and teaches himself how to speak and function in society through careful observance of human interaction. That's not scary at all. Thus, the details of Frankenstein are tweaked for the movie edit so that we get a big gruesome abomination that shuffles about the silver screen.
Wait a second, Doc, you're saying it wrong. You're supposed to yell "It's aliiiive!" and then thunder crashes and the monster rampages around your laboratory, breaking lots of delicate instruments. And oh yeah, don't you live in a castle?
This book is not really close to the general perception that people have towards Frankenstein('s monster). I must admit that I was actually disappointed when there was no classic shout of victory upon the animation of The Creature. Every Frankenstein movie ever made has that line, heck, even the pseudo-movie-poster that is hanging in The Deuce has those two words scrawled across the paper. Furthermore, it's a little odd to see that Frankenstein is in fact a college student living alone in an apartment, rather than an old mad scientist living in a castle with his hunch-backed croney Igor. Even the events concerning the reanimation are different. I always imagined lightning, I don't know why, I don't think I've ever actually seen a Frankenstein movie, but lightning really ought to play a prominent role, I've decided, but really there's just a bit of a light drizzle. It's just sort of weird to see that the common perception of Frankenstein('s monster) is so radically different from the actually story itself. So why is that? Here's a theory:
Lots of people like horror movies. And I'll give you a good recipe for a horror movie: create a monster which is terrifying and evil and prone to indiscriminate destruction, and yells a lot of unintelligible moans and grunts, and make him really gruesome, with green skin and lots of scars and big random bolts on the side of the neck. Here's a terrible idea for a horror movie: create a monster with which the audience can sympathize. Nobody gets scared by a monster that just wants love from his metaphorical father and teaches himself how to speak and function in society through careful observance of human interaction. That's not scary at all. Thus, the details of Frankenstein are tweaked for the movie edit so that we get a big gruesome abomination that shuffles about the silver screen.
Frankenstein - Alienation
"I have no one near me, gentle yet courageous, possessed of a cultivated as well as of a capacious mind, whose tastes are like my own, to approve or amend my plans." p. 18
Well, this is alienation, definitely the most prominent of the three themes I've mentioned. So let's get started.
Shelley notes that there are essentially two forms of alienation, the kind which is imposed by another, and the kind which is brought on by oneself.
Justine's ordeal represents the first kind when all of the people who knew her for so many years, even Victor's father and brother, immediately abandon her when she is accused. The only people who stand beside her are Victor and Elizabeth, although even Elizabeth doubts her upon learning of her confession. She ultimately is alienated by everyone she once knew.
The Creature also suffers alienation, this time at the hands of Victor himself. On page 57, The Creature visits Victor in the night and reaches out to him. Victor assumes that The Creature is trying to attack him, but really it's more likely he was just looking for a bit of human contact. Victor, however, immediately takes off, abandoning his creation and leaving him all alone. The Creature essentially perceives Victor as his father, but Frankenstein bails on him, his "son," and flees into the night. Thus, this is alienation of the deepest kind, of a father abandoning his own son. Well...sort of. His metaphorical son.
Victor and Walton also suffer alienation, but theirs is of the second species, self-alienation. They essentially become so engrossed in their work that they neglect all of their previous human relationships. Walton hops on a ship and sails away, and the only friend he has is his sister all the way back home. He writes a few letters to her, but that's not exactly the best form of human contact. The quote above reflects his desire to have a friend who will identify him. Victor does not even have letters to exchange. He quits writing back to his family and cuts off all contact he has with any friends. His obsession with his experiments is so powerful that he becomes completely alienated from society and begins to become emaciated and extremely ill, and he likely would have died had his friend Henry not shown up to take care of him.
So what's the big theme? Alienation comes in many forms (approximately 2), but no matter what, human contact is a necessity for people to survive.
Well, this is alienation, definitely the most prominent of the three themes I've mentioned. So let's get started.
Shelley notes that there are essentially two forms of alienation, the kind which is imposed by another, and the kind which is brought on by oneself.
Justine's ordeal represents the first kind when all of the people who knew her for so many years, even Victor's father and brother, immediately abandon her when she is accused. The only people who stand beside her are Victor and Elizabeth, although even Elizabeth doubts her upon learning of her confession. She ultimately is alienated by everyone she once knew.
The Creature also suffers alienation, this time at the hands of Victor himself. On page 57, The Creature visits Victor in the night and reaches out to him. Victor assumes that The Creature is trying to attack him, but really it's more likely he was just looking for a bit of human contact. Victor, however, immediately takes off, abandoning his creation and leaving him all alone. The Creature essentially perceives Victor as his father, but Frankenstein bails on him, his "son," and flees into the night. Thus, this is alienation of the deepest kind, of a father abandoning his own son. Well...sort of. His metaphorical son.
Victor and Walton also suffer alienation, but theirs is of the second species, self-alienation. They essentially become so engrossed in their work that they neglect all of their previous human relationships. Walton hops on a ship and sails away, and the only friend he has is his sister all the way back home. He writes a few letters to her, but that's not exactly the best form of human contact. The quote above reflects his desire to have a friend who will identify him. Victor does not even have letters to exchange. He quits writing back to his family and cuts off all contact he has with any friends. His obsession with his experiments is so powerful that he becomes completely alienated from society and begins to become emaciated and extremely ill, and he likely would have died had his friend Henry not shown up to take care of him.
So what's the big theme? Alienation comes in many forms (approximately 2), but no matter what, human contact is a necessity for people to survive.
Frankenstein - Justice
"It was the secrets of heaven and earth that I desired to learn...Meanwhile Clerval occupied himself, so to speak, with the moral relations of things." p. 37
This wonderful blog post is brought to you by the letter T, for Theme, and the number 3, which looks a bit like a backwards E, for Education. The theme of education in Frankenstein, hahaha #triestoohard
Education is extremely important to the characterization of most of the major characters, particularly Victor and Henry, and even Robert Walton. These people's education essentially ends up defining their characters, as seen in the quote above. Victor is a man of science: he pursues an understanding of the universe which can only be learned through observation and experimentation. He has little concern for what to do with said discovery, and ultimately doesn't care about the implications of his research. His focus is solely on the process of realization. Henry, on the other hand, is a man of language. He cares not so much for the knowledge or discovery itself but what it means to people. This is evident from his concern with morality (the should I? as opposed to the can I?). Thus, the two are foils to each other. Victor, before making The Creature and bringing it to life, becomes obsessed with the question of Can I? After much work he finally discovers that He Can, but sadly he never asked Should I? However, as soon as The Creature comes to life, he gets his answer of Heck no, Vick, ya shouldn'ta done that.
So that's not really a theme, is it? Well, the theme of education, the great big truth that Shelley is trying to convey here is that what one studies, the aspects of life that interest a person, be they science or language, is a huge part of ones personality. Our understanding of Victor and Henry comes directly from our knowledge of what interests them and the fields that they pursued in their education.
This wonderful blog post is brought to you by the letter T, for Theme, and the number 3, which looks a bit like a backwards E, for Education. The theme of education in Frankenstein, hahaha #triestoohard
Education is extremely important to the characterization of most of the major characters, particularly Victor and Henry, and even Robert Walton. These people's education essentially ends up defining their characters, as seen in the quote above. Victor is a man of science: he pursues an understanding of the universe which can only be learned through observation and experimentation. He has little concern for what to do with said discovery, and ultimately doesn't care about the implications of his research. His focus is solely on the process of realization. Henry, on the other hand, is a man of language. He cares not so much for the knowledge or discovery itself but what it means to people. This is evident from his concern with morality (the should I? as opposed to the can I?). Thus, the two are foils to each other. Victor, before making The Creature and bringing it to life, becomes obsessed with the question of Can I? After much work he finally discovers that He Can, but sadly he never asked Should I? However, as soon as The Creature comes to life, he gets his answer of Heck no, Vick, ya shouldn'ta done that.
So that's not really a theme, is it? Well, the theme of education, the great big truth that Shelley is trying to convey here is that what one studies, the aspects of life that interest a person, be they science or language, is a huge part of ones personality. Our understanding of Victor and Henry comes directly from our knowledge of what interests them and the fields that they pursued in their education.
Frankenstein - Justice
"During the whole of this wretched mockery of justice I suffered living torture." p 78.
I'll be tackling the theme of justice in this blog post. Justice is best portrayed in the story pertaining to Justine's trial (hey, Justice, Justine, yageddit???). Specifically, Justine's trial shows the lack of justice that sometimes exists in the world. She is sentenced to death on what is essentially circumstantial evidence which follows the same train of logic as "President Lincoln was shot, you own a gun, therefore, you shot President Lincoln." When you say it bluntly like that, well it just sounds preposterous that a court of law would sentence a person to death over that. However, these sorts of mistakes do happen, and there simply is no justice in that.
Furthermore, Frankenstein himself, though he condemns the mockery of justice that is Justine's trial, is not exactly any crusader for justice himself. He immediately decides that The Creature is responsible for the murder with no better evidence than seeing from a distance what probably could have looked like a really big guy maybe somewhere near the crime scene. Possibly. It just seems silly that he pretends to recognize justice when he in fact is just as oblivious to real justice as the people who condemned Justine.
Also, I'd just like to say that Frankenstein is a drama queen crybaby. I can hardly believe that he's acting like he got the bad end of the deal because Justine gets the happy knowledge that she's actually innocent whereas Victor has to suffer so much because he knows he's guilty (allegedly). Come on, Vick, innocent or not, I imagine it sucks a lot more to be put to death by 18th century standards than to toil in the anguish of guilt.
I'll be tackling the theme of justice in this blog post. Justice is best portrayed in the story pertaining to Justine's trial (hey, Justice, Justine, yageddit???). Specifically, Justine's trial shows the lack of justice that sometimes exists in the world. She is sentenced to death on what is essentially circumstantial evidence which follows the same train of logic as "President Lincoln was shot, you own a gun, therefore, you shot President Lincoln." When you say it bluntly like that, well it just sounds preposterous that a court of law would sentence a person to death over that. However, these sorts of mistakes do happen, and there simply is no justice in that.
Furthermore, Frankenstein himself, though he condemns the mockery of justice that is Justine's trial, is not exactly any crusader for justice himself. He immediately decides that The Creature is responsible for the murder with no better evidence than seeing from a distance what probably could have looked like a really big guy maybe somewhere near the crime scene. Possibly. It just seems silly that he pretends to recognize justice when he in fact is just as oblivious to real justice as the people who condemned Justine.
Also, I'd just like to say that Frankenstein is a drama queen crybaby. I can hardly believe that he's acting like he got the bad end of the deal because Justine gets the happy knowledge that she's actually innocent whereas Victor has to suffer so much because he knows he's guilty (allegedly). Come on, Vick, innocent or not, I imagine it sucks a lot more to be put to death by 18th century standards than to toil in the anguish of guilt.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
1984 - The End
"He had one the victory over himself. He loved Big Brother." p. 298
Winston loses. The Party wins. Darn. So then what ultimately causes his conversion? Well, there are a number of things. First off, O'Brien is responsible. He is able to wear him down over time. Winston perceives him as extremely intelligent, far smarter than himself, with impeccable logic. The torture doesn't really cause the conversion, although it does help set O'Brien up. It wears him down mentally and physically, but ultimately O'Brien's demeanor is what changes him in the end. Because Winston views him as such a mental giant, he finds it necessary to adhere to what he says. He begins practicing this rejection of reality even before room 101. However, room 101 helps push him over the edge. His total betrayal of Julia finally severs the one tie that could possibly have made him human. That personal connection he had with Julia was powerful enough to challenge the loyalty that The Party wants him to have towards Big Brother. Thus, by severing that connection, The Party ensures that Winston has only enough room for loving the big guy and no one else. However, even after he is released to the world, he is not fully brainwashed. He still has his own private thought, a memory of a happy day that he had with his mother when he was still just a child. He later dismisses this as a false memory; however, he does still remember it, thus showing that he's not quite fully converted to the Party doctrine. However, the finally straw that breaks the back of this metaphorical camel is the military victory over the Eurasian Army in Africa. Winston views Big Brother as "The colossus that bestrode the world! The rock against which the hordes of Asia dashed themselves in vain!" He views Big Brother as his ultimate protector, and finally is able to love him. He curses his own self-willed attempts to reject the Party and Big Brother and finally embraces him with love.
So my reaction? Well, it's a sad, depressing ending, but it's the only possible ending that really holds true to the theme of the book. There are no heroes, not even Winston. Even after his struggle, he finally gives in. It really is hopeless, which is kind of a downer, but at least this couldn't possibly happen in real life, right?
...
...
...Right?
Winston loses. The Party wins. Darn. So then what ultimately causes his conversion? Well, there are a number of things. First off, O'Brien is responsible. He is able to wear him down over time. Winston perceives him as extremely intelligent, far smarter than himself, with impeccable logic. The torture doesn't really cause the conversion, although it does help set O'Brien up. It wears him down mentally and physically, but ultimately O'Brien's demeanor is what changes him in the end. Because Winston views him as such a mental giant, he finds it necessary to adhere to what he says. He begins practicing this rejection of reality even before room 101. However, room 101 helps push him over the edge. His total betrayal of Julia finally severs the one tie that could possibly have made him human. That personal connection he had with Julia was powerful enough to challenge the loyalty that The Party wants him to have towards Big Brother. Thus, by severing that connection, The Party ensures that Winston has only enough room for loving the big guy and no one else. However, even after he is released to the world, he is not fully brainwashed. He still has his own private thought, a memory of a happy day that he had with his mother when he was still just a child. He later dismisses this as a false memory; however, he does still remember it, thus showing that he's not quite fully converted to the Party doctrine. However, the finally straw that breaks the back of this metaphorical camel is the military victory over the Eurasian Army in Africa. Winston views Big Brother as "The colossus that bestrode the world! The rock against which the hordes of Asia dashed themselves in vain!" He views Big Brother as his ultimate protector, and finally is able to love him. He curses his own self-willed attempts to reject the Party and Big Brother and finally embraces him with love.
So my reaction? Well, it's a sad, depressing ending, but it's the only possible ending that really holds true to the theme of the book. There are no heroes, not even Winston. Even after his struggle, he finally gives in. It really is hopeless, which is kind of a downer, but at least this couldn't possibly happen in real life, right?
...
...
...Right?
1984 - I'll give you a brief history of pain with the back of my hand
"The first thing for you to understand is that in this place there are no martyrdoms." p. 253
O'Brien uses this line to preface a quick history lesson, which ultimately is just one long allusion to the events from the past, everything from The Inquisition to Russian Communists and German Nazis. So what is the purpose of this quick allusion? It essentially shows how the Party learned from the mistakes of the past. In The Inquisition, people who went against the Catholic Church, the major world power at the time, were considered heretics and were put to death. However, they were made into martyrs by their followers and their teachings were actually spread even further through their death than by their life. This is ultimately because even though a confession was made, the heretic was still dragged to the stake screaming his ideals even as he was burned to death. The Party learned from this and thus knows not to ever kill a person until they have actually abandoned their ideals and accepted their own wrongness. The Party also learned a valuable lesson from the totalitarian governments of the early twentieth century. It is not enough simply to get a heretic to confess, because in the end, nobody actually believes that their confession was true. Everyone just believes that they only confessed in order to avoid the torture, and that the heretic still held true to their beliefs deep down. The Party thus is not content simply with a verbal confession. Rather, The Party seeks to convert the heretic to their ways, actually to have them willingly reject their own heresies and accept the doctrines of the Party. And then they kill them. But quietly. By doing all of this, they are able to ensure that the people who try to rise up against the Party do not gain followers through their martyrdom but rather are viewed as insane people who are cured by the Party's benevolence.
O'Brien uses this line to preface a quick history lesson, which ultimately is just one long allusion to the events from the past, everything from The Inquisition to Russian Communists and German Nazis. So what is the purpose of this quick allusion? It essentially shows how the Party learned from the mistakes of the past. In The Inquisition, people who went against the Catholic Church, the major world power at the time, were considered heretics and were put to death. However, they were made into martyrs by their followers and their teachings were actually spread even further through their death than by their life. This is ultimately because even though a confession was made, the heretic was still dragged to the stake screaming his ideals even as he was burned to death. The Party learned from this and thus knows not to ever kill a person until they have actually abandoned their ideals and accepted their own wrongness. The Party also learned a valuable lesson from the totalitarian governments of the early twentieth century. It is not enough simply to get a heretic to confess, because in the end, nobody actually believes that their confession was true. Everyone just believes that they only confessed in order to avoid the torture, and that the heretic still held true to their beliefs deep down. The Party thus is not content simply with a verbal confession. Rather, The Party seeks to convert the heretic to their ways, actually to have them willingly reject their own heresies and accept the doctrines of the Party. And then they kill them. But quietly. By doing all of this, they are able to ensure that the people who try to rise up against the Party do not gain followers through their martyrdom but rather are viewed as insane people who are cured by the Party's benevolence.
1984 - O'Brien
"That is what you are thinking, is it not, Winston?" p. 245
Yes, let's discuss Mr. O'Brien. No character has ever quite angered me quite like this bespectacled chap. Somehow, he seems to know everything that Winston ever thinks, every thought that passes through his head. This sense of O'Brien's apparent telepathy reflects the sense that O'Brien has held so many of these "rehabilitation sessions" that he knows exactly what Winston thinks, what he believes, what he'll say, how he'll react, every argument that he could possibly propose. Being able to say that a person fears the effect of the torture device on their body is not really impressive; however, describing in detail the exact thought concerning Winston's own spine shattering certainly denotes a bit of superhuman understanding of the human psyche. This characterizes O'Brien as an extremely intelligent person. Winston even says that O'Brien contains his mind within his own. He already knows every argument and the perfect rebuttal. O'Brien really does appear to be a genius with his ability to predict Winston's every thought, feeling, and action.
However, O'Brien is actually really really really stupid. Stupidity, as far as I'm concerned, is the brain telling the eyes that they saw incorrectly, taking the objective sensory input from the world and declaring it to be wrong, and substituting in an alternative reality that suits one needs. Denying what is right in front of ones face is not sanity or self-discipline, as O'Brien calls it, but the exact opposite really. True self-discipline of thought is learning to accept the world as it truly is and not how it would be convenient to be. True sanity is believing what one sees, not what one wants to see. However, this stupidity is very helpful to O'Brien, because only the stupid and ignorant can be in the Party. It is simply a prerequisite. The best party members are those who don't think for themselves and can reject the world around them and actually believe that they are in the right. These people are necessary for the Party to exist.
Yes, let's discuss Mr. O'Brien. No character has ever quite angered me quite like this bespectacled chap. Somehow, he seems to know everything that Winston ever thinks, every thought that passes through his head. This sense of O'Brien's apparent telepathy reflects the sense that O'Brien has held so many of these "rehabilitation sessions" that he knows exactly what Winston thinks, what he believes, what he'll say, how he'll react, every argument that he could possibly propose. Being able to say that a person fears the effect of the torture device on their body is not really impressive; however, describing in detail the exact thought concerning Winston's own spine shattering certainly denotes a bit of superhuman understanding of the human psyche. This characterizes O'Brien as an extremely intelligent person. Winston even says that O'Brien contains his mind within his own. He already knows every argument and the perfect rebuttal. O'Brien really does appear to be a genius with his ability to predict Winston's every thought, feeling, and action.
However, O'Brien is actually really really really stupid. Stupidity, as far as I'm concerned, is the brain telling the eyes that they saw incorrectly, taking the objective sensory input from the world and declaring it to be wrong, and substituting in an alternative reality that suits one needs. Denying what is right in front of ones face is not sanity or self-discipline, as O'Brien calls it, but the exact opposite really. True self-discipline of thought is learning to accept the world as it truly is and not how it would be convenient to be. True sanity is believing what one sees, not what one wants to see. However, this stupidity is very helpful to O'Brien, because only the stupid and ignorant can be in the Party. It is simply a prerequisite. The best party members are those who don't think for themselves and can reject the world around them and actually believe that they are in the right. These people are necessary for the Party to exist.
1984 - Heroes
"In the face of pain there are no heroes, no heroes, he thought over and over as he writhed on the floor, clutching uselessly at his disabled left arm." p. 239
This line is a bit of a recapitulation of Orwell's previous assertion that heroes do not exist. When push comes to shove, everybody, no matter how heroic or courageous they may think they are, always buckles in the face of fear or pain. Orwell is able to illustrate this by depicting the torture that Winston and the other thoughtcriminals are subjected to. In the end, all of them confess, all of them submit, and all of them succumb to the will of the party. Orwell states bluntly that no amount of courage, bravery, or intestinal fortitude can allow a person to outlast pain. It is easy to think that one will be able to resist submission even in the face of unimaginable horror. Most people are confident enough in their own inner strength to assume that not even pain and death can force them to rescind their ideals, values, or beliefs. However, Orwell believes that at that actual moment when the dial is cranked up to 75, or the pads are applies to the temples, or the water is poured on the washcloth, at that time, values, bravery, ideals, beliefs, courage, they all simmer on the back burner while the pain takes full precedence in the person's mind. Nobody can resist the pain at the time. In the mind, during that moment, the pain is all there is.
Personally, I like to think that Mr. Orwell is a sad, deranged little man. Heroes exist.
This line is a bit of a recapitulation of Orwell's previous assertion that heroes do not exist. When push comes to shove, everybody, no matter how heroic or courageous they may think they are, always buckles in the face of fear or pain. Orwell is able to illustrate this by depicting the torture that Winston and the other thoughtcriminals are subjected to. In the end, all of them confess, all of them submit, and all of them succumb to the will of the party. Orwell states bluntly that no amount of courage, bravery, or intestinal fortitude can allow a person to outlast pain. It is easy to think that one will be able to resist submission even in the face of unimaginable horror. Most people are confident enough in their own inner strength to assume that not even pain and death can force them to rescind their ideals, values, or beliefs. However, Orwell believes that at that actual moment when the dial is cranked up to 75, or the pads are applies to the temples, or the water is poured on the washcloth, at that time, values, bravery, ideals, beliefs, courage, they all simmer on the back burner while the pain takes full precedence in the person's mind. Nobody can resist the pain at the time. In the mind, during that moment, the pain is all there is.
Personally, I like to think that Mr. Orwell is a sad, deranged little man. Heroes exist.
1984 - The Book!!!1!
"Winston began reading." p. 184
What's that? Winston began reading The Book! The Book is everything! All that once was and all that will be! The Book controls time and space! Love and Death! The Book can see into your mind! The Book can see into your soul! Really? The Book can do all that? Heh...no.
This blog post essentially concerns Orwell's stylistic device of the book within a book. Orwell essentially uses The Book to illustrate the world of 1984 and how it came to be. The entire point of 1984 is that it's impossible to gain any knowledge concerning the past and the real way that things were before the Party as well as the truth about the Party. However, by creating this illegal book of truth, Orwell is able to explain how the Party came into power and how it can maintain this power indefinitely. The focus of The Book is centered around the Party's maxim of "Ignorance is Strength, Freedom is Slavery, War is Peace." Through The Book, Orwell is able to explain the true driving force behind the perpetual war. The goal of the war is not global conquest but a means to control the products manufactured by the economy. Everything that the economy produces that is considered excessive simply gets put into the war in order to consume the resources and keep people working, because when people have jobs and the bare necessities, they generally will not revolt. The Book also reveals the way that the Party manages to control and maintain the three classes of society, Upper, Middle, and Lower, or Inner Party, Outer Party, and Proletariat, through ignorance. The Proletariat are kept ignorant and are worked hard for their entire lives and thus never realize that perhaps life would be better without the Party. The Outer Party is controlled by the constant surveillance which can root out any potential unorthodoxy. The Inner Party is controlled because they are so deeply engrossed in the Party doctrine and are so addicted to the power that they wield that they will never let it go. Furthermore, they have learned from the mistakes of previous totalitarians, and thus have perfected the art in order to ensure that the classes do not ever shift. ever. Basically, The Book is used just to confirm the "how" of the Party. The Book also, probably, goes on to explain the "why" of the party, their ultimate motivation for seizing power and running the whole show. However, Winston conveniently stops reading literally just words before the book reveals the motive. Now that's just rude.
What's that? Winston began reading The Book! The Book is everything! All that once was and all that will be! The Book controls time and space! Love and Death! The Book can see into your mind! The Book can see into your soul! Really? The Book can do all that? Heh...no.
This blog post essentially concerns Orwell's stylistic device of the book within a book. Orwell essentially uses The Book to illustrate the world of 1984 and how it came to be. The entire point of 1984 is that it's impossible to gain any knowledge concerning the past and the real way that things were before the Party as well as the truth about the Party. However, by creating this illegal book of truth, Orwell is able to explain how the Party came into power and how it can maintain this power indefinitely. The focus of The Book is centered around the Party's maxim of "Ignorance is Strength, Freedom is Slavery, War is Peace." Through The Book, Orwell is able to explain the true driving force behind the perpetual war. The goal of the war is not global conquest but a means to control the products manufactured by the economy. Everything that the economy produces that is considered excessive simply gets put into the war in order to consume the resources and keep people working, because when people have jobs and the bare necessities, they generally will not revolt. The Book also reveals the way that the Party manages to control and maintain the three classes of society, Upper, Middle, and Lower, or Inner Party, Outer Party, and Proletariat, through ignorance. The Proletariat are kept ignorant and are worked hard for their entire lives and thus never realize that perhaps life would be better without the Party. The Outer Party is controlled by the constant surveillance which can root out any potential unorthodoxy. The Inner Party is controlled because they are so deeply engrossed in the Party doctrine and are so addicted to the power that they wield that they will never let it go. Furthermore, they have learned from the mistakes of previous totalitarians, and thus have perfected the art in order to ensure that the classes do not ever shift. ever. Basically, The Book is used just to confirm the "how" of the Party. The Book also, probably, goes on to explain the "why" of the party, their ultimate motivation for seizing power and running the whole show. However, Winston conveniently stops reading literally just words before the book reveals the motive. Now that's just rude.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
1984 - The Ol' Switcheroo
"We shall meet in the place where there is no darkness." p 25
Do you smell foreshadowing? Because I detect a distinct foreshadowy odor.
I usually scoff at the idea of prophetic dreams. Most of my dreams are a confusing and terrifying blend impossible occurrences that I generally forget almost immediately. I sure wish that I would have a dream about a test that I'll have to take in the immediate future in which I am able to divine all of the answers. Dreams do not tell the future; however, they do often act as effective literary devices. So where is the place where there is no darkness? Winston states that it refers to the imagined future (p. 103), which Winston will never actually know, as we never reach the future, but one can share in. Winston ultimately uses this as reasoning for why he can trust O'Brien, because they both share the same imagined future, the same place with no darkness.
I, however, disagree. What's happening here, I think, is another of those classic trust reversals. O'Brien initially appears trustworthy while Julia is not trusted at all. Now, however, we realize that Julia actually shares in Winston's hatred for the party and thus deserves trust. Therefore, if the pattern of trust reversal holds true, then it will soon become apparent that O'Brien is not actually trustworthy at all, and the place where there is no darkness is not place of hope but an ominous prediction of Winston's fate. *Dramatic Chord*
Do you smell foreshadowing? Because I detect a distinct foreshadowy odor.
I usually scoff at the idea of prophetic dreams. Most of my dreams are a confusing and terrifying blend impossible occurrences that I generally forget almost immediately. I sure wish that I would have a dream about a test that I'll have to take in the immediate future in which I am able to divine all of the answers. Dreams do not tell the future; however, they do often act as effective literary devices. So where is the place where there is no darkness? Winston states that it refers to the imagined future (p. 103), which Winston will never actually know, as we never reach the future, but one can share in. Winston ultimately uses this as reasoning for why he can trust O'Brien, because they both share the same imagined future, the same place with no darkness.
I, however, disagree. What's happening here, I think, is another of those classic trust reversals. O'Brien initially appears trustworthy while Julia is not trusted at all. Now, however, we realize that Julia actually shares in Winston's hatred for the party and thus deserves trust. Therefore, if the pattern of trust reversal holds true, then it will soon become apparent that O'Brien is not actually trustworthy at all, and the place where there is no darkness is not place of hope but an ominous prediction of Winston's fate. *Dramatic Chord*
1984 - Robot Zombie Apocalypse
"That was above all what he wanted to hear. Not merely the love of one person, but the animal instinct, the simple undifferentiated desire: that was the force that would tear the Party to pieces." p. 126
I, for one, do not understand this apparent fascination people have with having relations in these ridiculous locations, like a forest or beach. I imagine that the forest would be extremely unpleasant. Grass is very itchy, and there are bugs everywhere, and all of the birds and bees will be watching you intently. Hey, maybe that's where that euphemism comes from! Furthermore, don't even talk to me about the beach. Beverage or not, sex on the beach has got to be one of the worst experiences imaginable. Sand is annoying.
It's full of Kool-Aid, I promise
Oh yeah. So 1984...
The party essentially wants to turn people into robot-zombies. To the Party, the ideal citizen is one who is completely void of independent thought and desire. They just go about their daily lives without really thinking, simply...existing. This, really, is the point of Newspeak. It removes the possibility of anyone being able to even use words to fathom an independent thought. There is no individuality, just small parts of the big cohesive whole. So that's why Julia's desire alone is so particularly important to Winston. A single basic human desire, like the raw desire for sex, is essentially how Winston sticks it to the party and says that he refuses to be a robot zombie. Everyone knows that robot zombies do not want sex. Only processors.
I, for one, do not understand this apparent fascination people have with having relations in these ridiculous locations, like a forest or beach. I imagine that the forest would be extremely unpleasant. Grass is very itchy, and there are bugs everywhere, and all of the birds and bees will be watching you intently. Hey, maybe that's where that euphemism comes from! Furthermore, don't even talk to me about the beach. Beverage or not, sex on the beach has got to be one of the worst experiences imaginable. Sand is annoying.
It's full of Kool-Aid, I promise
Oh yeah. So 1984...
The party essentially wants to turn people into robot-zombies. To the Party, the ideal citizen is one who is completely void of independent thought and desire. They just go about their daily lives without really thinking, simply...existing. This, really, is the point of Newspeak. It removes the possibility of anyone being able to even use words to fathom an independent thought. There is no individuality, just small parts of the big cohesive whole. So that's why Julia's desire alone is so particularly important to Winston. A single basic human desire, like the raw desire for sex, is essentially how Winston sticks it to the party and says that he refuses to be a robot zombie. Everyone knows that robot zombies do not want sex. Only processors.
1984 - DoublePlusParadoxymoron
"WAR IS PEACE
FREEDOM IS SLAVERY
IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH" p. 16
FREEDOM IS SLAVERY
IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH" p. 16
This little word-nugget is a clump of paradox all rolled into one, so it's certainly a good thing that paradox is one of my very necessary literary terms :D? Let's break this down, then.
War is peace? That's just preposterous, Big Brother. War and peace are opposites. War might be unpeace, but it certainly is not peace. The world of 1984 is locked in perpetual war. However, nobody ever...wins. There are no goals of conquest, or really any goals other than the destruction of whoever is the enemy at the time. No ground is ever won, and nothing of particular import ever actually happens. There are never any actual invasions, and short of the occasional rocketbomb in the ghetto, no one is in real danger of total destruction. The three superstates of Easasia, Eurasia, and Oceania are all just so powerful that none of the three will ever win or lose. The war will just go on forever. So why wage war at all? Few things are better for boosting production than the demand created by war. As long as bombs and planes and enormous floating fortresses are needed, the economy will keep on rolling. Thus, people will have jobs and the illusion that the nation is being productive is constant. Thus, peace is achieved through waging perpetual war.
So how can freedom be slavery then? The previous period of time marked by capitalism is viewed as a time of personal freedom. People were in charge, not the government. All people were theoretically free, as there was no Big Brother to keep them down. However, according to the Party's story, the people were not free. The very few capitalists in top hats ran the show and kept the people down. None of the common people had any rights, and they were essentially slaves to the wealthy. Thus, total individual freedom ultimately led to the enslavement of the poor and middle-class. Allegedly.
How can ignorance be strength? The root of this paradox lies in doublethink, the amusing trick wherein one accepts two mutually exclusive ideas as being correct, or consciously telling a lie while sincerely believing that the lie is true, forgetting a fact that is inconvenient and then remembering it as soon as it suits ones purposes. This is ignorance, of course. However, it's like...selective ignorance, ignorance with a purpose. The concept of doublethink allows supporters of the Party to decide what to be ignorant of at any given time, and this ultimately gives them strength. They can actively decide for themselves what is true and what they believe in, and even though they know they are lying to themselves, they know that it is true. Thus, they blindly adhere to the doctrines of the Party and are thus stronger as a result.
War is peace? That's just preposterous, Big Brother. War and peace are opposites. War might be unpeace, but it certainly is not peace. The world of 1984 is locked in perpetual war. However, nobody ever...wins. There are no goals of conquest, or really any goals other than the destruction of whoever is the enemy at the time. No ground is ever won, and nothing of particular import ever actually happens. There are never any actual invasions, and short of the occasional rocketbomb in the ghetto, no one is in real danger of total destruction. The three superstates of Easasia, Eurasia, and Oceania are all just so powerful that none of the three will ever win or lose. The war will just go on forever. So why wage war at all? Few things are better for boosting production than the demand created by war. As long as bombs and planes and enormous floating fortresses are needed, the economy will keep on rolling. Thus, people will have jobs and the illusion that the nation is being productive is constant. Thus, peace is achieved through waging perpetual war.
So how can freedom be slavery then? The previous period of time marked by capitalism is viewed as a time of personal freedom. People were in charge, not the government. All people were theoretically free, as there was no Big Brother to keep them down. However, according to the Party's story, the people were not free. The very few capitalists in top hats ran the show and kept the people down. None of the common people had any rights, and they were essentially slaves to the wealthy. Thus, total individual freedom ultimately led to the enslavement of the poor and middle-class. Allegedly.
How can ignorance be strength? The root of this paradox lies in doublethink, the amusing trick wherein one accepts two mutually exclusive ideas as being correct, or consciously telling a lie while sincerely believing that the lie is true, forgetting a fact that is inconvenient and then remembering it as soon as it suits ones purposes. This is ignorance, of course. However, it's like...selective ignorance, ignorance with a purpose. The concept of doublethink allows supporters of the Party to decide what to be ignorant of at any given time, and this ultimately gives them strength. They can actively decide for themselves what is true and what they believe in, and even though they know they are lying to themselves, they know that it is true. Thus, they blindly adhere to the doctrines of the Party and are thus stronger as a result.
1984 - On Heroes and Legends
"On the battlefield, in the torture chamber, on a sinking ship, the issues that you are fighting for are always forgotten because the body swells up until it fills the universe, and even when you are not paralyzed by fright of screaming with pain, life is a moment-to-moment struggle against hunger or cold or sleeplessness, against a sour stomach or an aching tooth." p. 102-103
I like this quote because it's just so dreadfully realistic. It just discounts any belief in the power of heroism. Perhaps Winston is just a coward because the sight of the 110-pound brunette just scared the willies out of him to the point where he was unable to do anything. Perhaps he just lacks courage. Or maybe when it comes down to it, nobody really steps up and does the heroic thing when push comes to shove. That's certainly the general premise behind 1984. The Party will forever be in power because whenever a person could have the opportunity to stand up and be a hero, cowardice sets in, because going against the party is insanity and will be greeted with death. Really, all that's needed to end the cycle is for one person to stand up and be a leader within the proles. However, this will never ever ever happen. Orwell is essentially saying that nobody will put their neck out there because 1) Improvements are not guaranteed, 2) Death is a certainty, and 3) You will be deemed a lunatic by everyone else.
I, for one, think that what the people of 1984 really need is not a hero, but a legend.
Heroes get remembered, but legends never die.
Ten Bonus Points to whoever can list all of this man's titles in a comment below
I like this quote because it's just so dreadfully realistic. It just discounts any belief in the power of heroism. Perhaps Winston is just a coward because the sight of the 110-pound brunette just scared the willies out of him to the point where he was unable to do anything. Perhaps he just lacks courage. Or maybe when it comes down to it, nobody really steps up and does the heroic thing when push comes to shove. That's certainly the general premise behind 1984. The Party will forever be in power because whenever a person could have the opportunity to stand up and be a hero, cowardice sets in, because going against the party is insanity and will be greeted with death. Really, all that's needed to end the cycle is for one person to stand up and be a leader within the proles. However, this will never ever ever happen. Orwell is essentially saying that nobody will put their neck out there because 1) Improvements are not guaranteed, 2) Death is a certainty, and 3) You will be deemed a lunatic by everyone else.
I, for one, think that what the people of 1984 really need is not a hero, but a legend.
Heroes get remembered, but legends never die.
Ten Bonus Points to whoever can list all of this man's titles in a comment below1984 - Apple Math
"Who controls the past...controls the future: who controls the present controls the past." p. 34
"Freedom is the freedom to say that two plus two make four. If that is granted, all else follows." p. 81
They totally stole that first one from "Testify" by Rage Against the Machine. Somebody alert the plagiarism police!
Anyway, this blog post concerns the literary term "aphorism" which is an axiom or a brief little saying that has some sort of deep clever meaning. I'll be analyzing the two aforementioned aphorisms.
The first one deals primarily with the position of the terrible Party. The Party is capable of taking all evidence of past events and either destroying it or changing it to fit the needs of the Party. They can change all perception of human history so that no matter what, it appears that people's standard of living is always on the rise and that to fall back into the evils of capitalism would be terrible for everyone except the supremely wealthy. By doing this, the Party ensures that the common folk will never rise up in revolution in an attempt to attain a better life for themselves because they have no reason to believe that they will actually be any better off by overthrowing the party. The Party is in control right now, and thus can control the past, and therefore will control the future as well, since nothing will ever be able to overthrow it.
The second axiom is Winston's little idea, which is essentially like an answer to the first. Immediately before stating it, he ponders whether lunacy is really just being "a minority of one." If you are the only person who believes something, does that make you insane, and therefore wrong? Winston considers the idea, but with this quick maxim, he declares NO! Right and wrong are not a majority opinion. The party can declare that 2+2=5, and everyone may believe them, but when Tom has 2 apples, and his mom gives him 2 more apples, the recipe for apple pie which calls for 5 apples will, unfortunately be lacking 20% of its required appley goodness. Therefore, Winston is essentially expressing the idea that perhaps the Party is not so bulletproof. They cannot actually change the events of history, only the way that it is remembered. Perhaps therein lies the hope for escape from this dystopia?
Or perhaps it lies in this warm apple pie.
"Freedom is the freedom to say that two plus two make four. If that is granted, all else follows." p. 81
They totally stole that first one from "Testify" by Rage Against the Machine. Somebody alert the plagiarism police!
Anyway, this blog post concerns the literary term "aphorism" which is an axiom or a brief little saying that has some sort of deep clever meaning. I'll be analyzing the two aforementioned aphorisms.
The first one deals primarily with the position of the terrible Party. The Party is capable of taking all evidence of past events and either destroying it or changing it to fit the needs of the Party. They can change all perception of human history so that no matter what, it appears that people's standard of living is always on the rise and that to fall back into the evils of capitalism would be terrible for everyone except the supremely wealthy. By doing this, the Party ensures that the common folk will never rise up in revolution in an attempt to attain a better life for themselves because they have no reason to believe that they will actually be any better off by overthrowing the party. The Party is in control right now, and thus can control the past, and therefore will control the future as well, since nothing will ever be able to overthrow it.
The second axiom is Winston's little idea, which is essentially like an answer to the first. Immediately before stating it, he ponders whether lunacy is really just being "a minority of one." If you are the only person who believes something, does that make you insane, and therefore wrong? Winston considers the idea, but with this quick maxim, he declares NO! Right and wrong are not a majority opinion. The party can declare that 2+2=5, and everyone may believe them, but when Tom has 2 apples, and his mom gives him 2 more apples, the recipe for apple pie which calls for 5 apples will, unfortunately be lacking 20% of its required appley goodness. Therefore, Winston is essentially expressing the idea that perhaps the Party is not so bulletproof. They cannot actually change the events of history, only the way that it is remembered. Perhaps therein lies the hope for escape from this dystopia?
Or perhaps it lies in this warm apple pie.Monday, February 28, 2011
A Raisin in the Sun - An Apple Pie, a Bright Blue Sky, a Breezy Meadow in July
Question 4: how is dramatic suspense created?
The camera zooms in close and they play a dramatic chord
Actually, something particularly dramatic seems to happen every time a scene or an act comes to a close. At the end of scene one, Ruth collapses on the ground without any warning, and the last that we see is Mama calling her name in desperation. We don't gain a full understanding of what happened for another 20 pages or so, so we are left trying to guess what happened? Is she sick? no, she just has a baby. Oh that's nice, so what's the problem? Abortion, what? C-Eb-G-B-D!!!
Similarly, at the end of the first act, Walter is struck dumb at the idea that his wife is considering an abortion and just kind of...walks out. But don't worry, Mama is on the case, just as soon as somebody gets her a hat! But what will she do, I wonder? Hopefully this issue will...*puts on sunglasses* resolve...C-E-G-Bb...yyyyyyyyeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!
Ahem...
But in all seriousness, I guess what I'm trying to say is that dramatic suspense is created by letting every tense moment or situation occur right when a scene or act is about to end. By doing this, it allows the writer to sort of place a gap in the action. In most of the situations, it would be much less dramatic to see what happens immediately after. However, because a scene ends, the action can resume after the fact, and the audience can slowly understand what happened earlier.
The camera zooms in close and they play a dramatic chord
Actually, something particularly dramatic seems to happen every time a scene or an act comes to a close. At the end of scene one, Ruth collapses on the ground without any warning, and the last that we see is Mama calling her name in desperation. We don't gain a full understanding of what happened for another 20 pages or so, so we are left trying to guess what happened? Is she sick? no, she just has a baby. Oh that's nice, so what's the problem? Abortion, what? C-Eb-G-B-D!!!
Similarly, at the end of the first act, Walter is struck dumb at the idea that his wife is considering an abortion and just kind of...walks out. But don't worry, Mama is on the case, just as soon as somebody gets her a hat! But what will she do, I wonder? Hopefully this issue will...*puts on sunglasses* resolve...C-E-G-Bb...yyyyyyyyeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!
Ahem...
But in all seriousness, I guess what I'm trying to say is that dramatic suspense is created by letting every tense moment or situation occur right when a scene or act is about to end. By doing this, it allows the writer to sort of place a gap in the action. In most of the situations, it would be much less dramatic to see what happens immediately after. However, because a scene ends, the action can resume after the fact, and the audience can slowly understand what happened earlier.
A Raisin in the Sun - na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na
Wait, what?Question 5: What themes does the play present?
Ultimately, the most prominent theme of A Raisin in the Sun is it's representation of the "American Dream." Now, I personally define the American Dream as financial security and independence, not living from paycheck to paycheck, providing for the family. Some define it as climbing the corporate ladder, crushing those beneath you, and making far more money than you ever know what to do with, but that's just ridiculous, in my humble opinion.
Anyway, how is this theme portrayed, you ask? Well, essentially the entire family is striving to achieve this dream in some way. Mama wants to use the life insurance check to buy a new house for her family so that they'll be able to live more comfortably. Walter wants use the money to buy a liquor store and be financially independent forever. Beneatha wants to go to medical school and become a doctor and achieve success all on her own; she is so determined to do this on her own that she even says she doesn't want to marry just because of money and might not even marry at all *GASP!* Ruth however, just worries about maintaining the life that the family currently lives. She doesn't worry about improving their lot in life but rather just wants to keep things how they are. This of course leads her to worry about the impact that another child will have on the family's financial situation, which brings about the whole new can of worms that we call abortion. Abortion isn't really a theme in the play, but it's at least an issue that pops up. I feel that the author makes their case fairly well through Mama who outright opposes the very idea and says that if Walter wants to be a man then he needs to protect the life of his unborn child.
Another mildly important theme is the underlying racial tension that was prevalent at the time. It's apparent that Walter is a bit mad at the white folk who appear to be living a much easier life simply because their white while his whole family has to struggle so hard since they're black. At the same time, the white neighbors try so hard to prevent the Younger family from moving into their predominantly white neighborhood.
Yup. Lotsa racism. and Racism is bad, mmmkay?
A Raisin in the Sun - I recognize that my titles are becoming increasingly less relevant
This is literally all I could think about while reading this play:
It's very distracting, I'll have you know. I don't even know what this is. I think I just saw something about them on Family Guy once.
I think I'll talk about some similarities between Glass Menagerie and A Raisin in the Sun. First off, they both depict the tale of a family which is trying to achieve financial security and independence. Also, they both have a desperate hope that something will come along and solve all of their problems. In Glass Menagerie, this hope comes in the form of a "gentleman caller" who will come along, marry Laura, and support the family forever. In A Raisin in the Sun, the hope is the life insurance check from the late father of the family. Now, while everyone in the family has different ideas of how the money should be spent, all of them still view it as the ultimate solution for their problems. Mama hopes that they'll be able to move into a better home, and secretly hopes to put the money towards Beneatha's medical school bills. Walter, on the other hand, wants to invest all of the money in a liquor store in order to achieve financial security forever. However, in both plays, their hopes and dreams don't quite fall together exactly as planned, and the family has to find some way to make things work on their own. Or they don't, we don't really get a clear picture there. Yay for open endings.
Also, both families lack the father. However, the way that they are presented is completely different. In a glass menagerie, the Amanda uses the father as an example of everything that Tom should not be. However, in A Raisin blahblahblah, Mama urges her son to strive to act more like his father and defend the life of his unborn child. I just think it's a tad interesting.
It's very distracting, I'll have you know. I don't even know what this is. I think I just saw something about them on Family Guy once.
I think I'll talk about some similarities between Glass Menagerie and A Raisin in the Sun. First off, they both depict the tale of a family which is trying to achieve financial security and independence. Also, they both have a desperate hope that something will come along and solve all of their problems. In Glass Menagerie, this hope comes in the form of a "gentleman caller" who will come along, marry Laura, and support the family forever. In A Raisin in the Sun, the hope is the life insurance check from the late father of the family. Now, while everyone in the family has different ideas of how the money should be spent, all of them still view it as the ultimate solution for their problems. Mama hopes that they'll be able to move into a better home, and secretly hopes to put the money towards Beneatha's medical school bills. Walter, on the other hand, wants to invest all of the money in a liquor store in order to achieve financial security forever. However, in both plays, their hopes and dreams don't quite fall together exactly as planned, and the family has to find some way to make things work on their own. Or they don't, we don't really get a clear picture there. Yay for open endings.
Also, both families lack the father. However, the way that they are presented is completely different. In a glass menagerie, the Amanda uses the father as an example of everything that Tom should not be. However, in A Raisin blahblahblah, Mama urges her son to strive to act more like his father and defend the life of his unborn child. I just think it's a tad interesting.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
The Glass Menagerie - Trees Hate You
I'll be handling question 8 with this blog post: "To what extent does the play employ narration as a means of dramatic exposition?" Well I'll tell you, book. The narration of this play is kind of unique. The narrator is actually both a narrator who directly addresses the audience and breaks the fourth wall and a character who chills behind that fourth wall and directly partakes in the activities of the play itself. This allows Tom to do many things that would be otherwise impossible for just any simple character. Tom reveals many aspects of the play's backstory and symbolism. He illustrates the setting as America during the 1930's. He explains the meanings of many of the characters, including himself and his role as both narrator and character. And, potentially most important of all, he tells the audience about the fifth character who doesn't appear in the play: the father of the family, whose picture looks down on the entire play. Tom is able to introduce him and explain his significance to the play because he is able to act as a narrator. Furthermore, Tom's role as narrator allows the audience to recognize that he is the main character of the play, and that this memory illustrates Tom's memory. Ultimately, the use of Tom as a narrator aids the dramatic exposition in that he is able to explain and describe many things that help the audience understand the play.
The Glass Menagerie - Witty Title Goes Here
I'll take on the sixth question with this post: "How do the various physical effects reinforce the meanings and contribute to the emotional effects?" Tennessee Williams was very precise in how he wanted his play to be presented. The stage directions throughout are extremely explicit, and everything from the music to the body language to the lighting is outlined in detail. On numerous occasions, it is noted that a character should sigh while saying a line, which helps to show exactly how they're feeling about the current conversation. Even gestures like Tom throwing down the paper as he exits the building helps to show his frustration. Also, the stage directions often help add to the nonrealistic nature of the play. When Tom asks "who ever escaped from a coffin without removing a single nail?" the father's picture conveniently lights up, as if to say "This Guy!" Also, Tennessee Williams tells us exactly when certain songs start playing, like when "The Glass Menagerie" starts playing right before anything dramatic happens, as if to say "Hey, pay attention, this is important!" Ultimately, the explicit physical effects help to make the meaning of certain events much more easily recognized and discerned and also helps show the emotions of the characters.
The Glass Menagerie - Memory Play
I still don't know what to think about this play. It's a bit odd...not really like anything I've ever studied before. I think that mostly stems from the fact that it is a "Memory Play," so I suppose I'll devote the rest of this post to exploring what a memory play is, and what that means for the play itself. A memory play is, of course, a play telling the story of the main character's memories. To me, it seems a bit like a frame story, in that there is a play in which Tom addresses the audience directly and narrates the play, and then there is the play within, in which Tom is a character and acts out the story. The ultimate effect is that the play can take on a much more nonrealistic approach. When recalling a memory, things often seem quite different from how they would actually happen in real life. The most notable change is that most of the play is set to music, because "in memory, everything seems to happen to music," as put by Narrator-Tom. Also, the narrator can make reference to events that don't really make sense within the timeframe of the actual play. Tom alludes to Chamberlain, a person who really didn't matter to America at the time, since he hadn't even been elected Prime minister until 1937. Furthermore, the pace of the play is affected. When recalling memories, one does not remember the long stretches of time in which nothing happens. When watching the play, it appears that things happen one immediately after another, but really, it is apparent that things are happening at a far slower rate, and the boring parts are essentially just being cut out, like when Tom has to remind Amanda that she asked him to find a nice young gentleman at the warehouse. Ultimately, the purpose of the memory play is to allow the writer to use many different techniques that would be hard to employ otherwise.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Othello - Tragedy
I'll be tackling question 2, which asks what kind of play is Othello, a tragedy, comedy, melodrama, or farce? Well, it's definitely a tragedy, which rules out comedy, as the two are mutually exclusive. and it's not a melodrama since those were really invented later, and it's not nearly ridiculous enough to be a farse.
So why is it a tragedy? Well you've got your hero, Othello, who starts off as a good and decent person. In the first act or two he is portrayed as an extremely wise, loving, and level-headed man. Why, he's practically the posterchild of decency. After he is dragged from his bed in the dead of night by an angry Italian mob, rather than let his emotions get the best of him, he simply agrees to their demands and eventually makes it out alright. However, Othello most certainly has a tragic flaw, called a hubris. Othello's flaw is essentially that deep underneath his apparent level-headed nature, like most people, he is inclined to jealousy. This, coupled with his poor judge of character, allows Iago to take advantage of his doubts and suspicions in order to gradually decay whatever was good in Othello and turn him into a despicable person. By the end of the play, Othello is a hate-filled, bloodthirsty murderer and has fallen quite a long way from his original standing of a good and decent hero. His tragic flaw eventually consumes him and ultimately kills him. This fall from a decent hero to a hateful man certainly denotes a tragedy, and just to make sure that we don't try to call this anything but tragic, he kills himself in the end.
Now, there is in fact a second part to this question, which asks exactly how important it is that the audience understands that the play is a tragedy? Well, I didn't know it was a tragedy until around act three, and I certainly had no trouble understanding what was happening. Really, it only seems that the difference between Tragedy and Comedy is the ending. If the hero succumbs to their flaw and dies then it's a tragedy, but if he prevails over his flaw and survives, well it's a comedy. Really, the only thing that knowledge of the type of play gave me was a nice spoiler for the ending. Lovely. So all in all, no, I don't really think that knowing what kind of play it is beforehand is really all that helpful.
So why is it a tragedy? Well you've got your hero, Othello, who starts off as a good and decent person. In the first act or two he is portrayed as an extremely wise, loving, and level-headed man. Why, he's practically the posterchild of decency. After he is dragged from his bed in the dead of night by an angry Italian mob, rather than let his emotions get the best of him, he simply agrees to their demands and eventually makes it out alright. However, Othello most certainly has a tragic flaw, called a hubris. Othello's flaw is essentially that deep underneath his apparent level-headed nature, like most people, he is inclined to jealousy. This, coupled with his poor judge of character, allows Iago to take advantage of his doubts and suspicions in order to gradually decay whatever was good in Othello and turn him into a despicable person. By the end of the play, Othello is a hate-filled, bloodthirsty murderer and has fallen quite a long way from his original standing of a good and decent hero. His tragic flaw eventually consumes him and ultimately kills him. This fall from a decent hero to a hateful man certainly denotes a tragedy, and just to make sure that we don't try to call this anything but tragic, he kills himself in the end.
Now, there is in fact a second part to this question, which asks exactly how important it is that the audience understands that the play is a tragedy? Well, I didn't know it was a tragedy until around act three, and I certainly had no trouble understanding what was happening. Really, it only seems that the difference between Tragedy and Comedy is the ending. If the hero succumbs to their flaw and dies then it's a tragedy, but if he prevails over his flaw and survives, well it's a comedy. Really, the only thing that knowledge of the type of play gave me was a nice spoiler for the ending. Lovely. So all in all, no, I don't really think that knowing what kind of play it is beforehand is really all that helpful.
Othello - Characters
I'll be handling question number 3 with this post, which essentially deals with characters. Really, I don't feel like rewriting the whole question, because it's a long'n.
Well, like most works in which the title is the name of a character, the protagonist of this particular play happens to be Othello. He fulfills the role of tragic hero absolutely perfectly, which really makes my job of designating a protagonist fairly easy. He goes about the beginning of the play as a good and decent person, but throughout the course of the play, his hubris begins to grow and eventually it defeats him, and he dies. He is portrayed as being wise, loving, and level-headed, but he eventually starts to show a jealous side and begins to show a tendency to misread people, as he begins to distrust those truly loyal (Desdemona and Cassio) and starts to trust people who are just out to get him (Iago).
Iago, naturally, is the antagonist. This play is kind of interesting in that the antagonist gets far more screentime than the protagonist. The one who really drives the plot along is actually Iago. Very interesting. Anywho, Iago was a decent antagonist. He was sexist, racist, and very very sneaky, which makes him very hateable, always a good quality to have in your token bad guy. However, I didn't really like how his greatest quality seemed to be simply...luck. Honestly, perfect opportunities just kept falling into his lap. Now, he did manage to do some things on his own, getting Cassio drunk for example, but most of the time, he just managed to find himself in a good situation and managed to swing it around for his own benefit. Emilia just happened to find the handkerchief and give it to him, Bianca just happened to confront Cassio with the handkerchief while Othello was watching, and Roderigo just kept rolling back to him just in time for him to put him to use. Really, I just didn't care much for how conveniently everything worked out for him.
There are several foil characters. Iago and Cassio are foils to each other. Cassio is a truly honest person who respects women and is liked by pretty much everyone. Iago is a sneaky evil scumbag who treats women like crap and is also fairly racist, and most people just don't much care for him. Iago even says himself that Cassio "hath a daily beauty in his life that makes me ugly." In comparison to the totally awesome Cassio, Iago just kinda looks like trash. Now Othello kind of switches throughout the course of the play. At first, he is foiled with Iago as he is not outwardly suspicious of his wife and actually treats her decently. In the beginning, he really resembles Cassio. However, by the middle to end of the play, Othello really resembles Iago in his tendency to suspect others and his treatment towards Desdemona. Now, Cassio is his foil and shows him how far he has really fallen.
I don't feel as though I should use the term "Minor Character," because really they play a major role in the progression of the plot. Bianca, a tiny minor character is actually the one who puts the last nail in the coffin and provides the last shred of evidence that Othello needs by giving the handkerchief to Cassio while he watches. As for Roderigo, who is essentially nonexistent through the whole play except when Iago conveniently has the need for a patsy, is used quite effectively. He provokes Cassio and gets him fired and eventually attacks Cassio and wounds him. As for Emilia, she acts as a mildly useful character for Iago when she gives him the handkerchief, but after Desdemona dies, she explodes into a ball of almighty fury as she tells off Othello, Iago, and anyone else within the range of her voice. At the end, she ultimately serves as the deliverer of the totally necessary "Hey by the way, you screwed up" message after Othello kills his wife. Othello, now with the knowledge that Desdemona was innocent after all, Othello takes his life, and Slam, Bam, now you've got a tragedy.
I do not understand the purpose of the clown.
Well, like most works in which the title is the name of a character, the protagonist of this particular play happens to be Othello. He fulfills the role of tragic hero absolutely perfectly, which really makes my job of designating a protagonist fairly easy. He goes about the beginning of the play as a good and decent person, but throughout the course of the play, his hubris begins to grow and eventually it defeats him, and he dies. He is portrayed as being wise, loving, and level-headed, but he eventually starts to show a jealous side and begins to show a tendency to misread people, as he begins to distrust those truly loyal (Desdemona and Cassio) and starts to trust people who are just out to get him (Iago).
Iago, naturally, is the antagonist. This play is kind of interesting in that the antagonist gets far more screentime than the protagonist. The one who really drives the plot along is actually Iago. Very interesting. Anywho, Iago was a decent antagonist. He was sexist, racist, and very very sneaky, which makes him very hateable, always a good quality to have in your token bad guy. However, I didn't really like how his greatest quality seemed to be simply...luck. Honestly, perfect opportunities just kept falling into his lap. Now, he did manage to do some things on his own, getting Cassio drunk for example, but most of the time, he just managed to find himself in a good situation and managed to swing it around for his own benefit. Emilia just happened to find the handkerchief and give it to him, Bianca just happened to confront Cassio with the handkerchief while Othello was watching, and Roderigo just kept rolling back to him just in time for him to put him to use. Really, I just didn't care much for how conveniently everything worked out for him.
There are several foil characters. Iago and Cassio are foils to each other. Cassio is a truly honest person who respects women and is liked by pretty much everyone. Iago is a sneaky evil scumbag who treats women like crap and is also fairly racist, and most people just don't much care for him. Iago even says himself that Cassio "hath a daily beauty in his life that makes me ugly." In comparison to the totally awesome Cassio, Iago just kinda looks like trash. Now Othello kind of switches throughout the course of the play. At first, he is foiled with Iago as he is not outwardly suspicious of his wife and actually treats her decently. In the beginning, he really resembles Cassio. However, by the middle to end of the play, Othello really resembles Iago in his tendency to suspect others and his treatment towards Desdemona. Now, Cassio is his foil and shows him how far he has really fallen.
I don't feel as though I should use the term "Minor Character," because really they play a major role in the progression of the plot. Bianca, a tiny minor character is actually the one who puts the last nail in the coffin and provides the last shred of evidence that Othello needs by giving the handkerchief to Cassio while he watches. As for Roderigo, who is essentially nonexistent through the whole play except when Iago conveniently has the need for a patsy, is used quite effectively. He provokes Cassio and gets him fired and eventually attacks Cassio and wounds him. As for Emilia, she acts as a mildly useful character for Iago when she gives him the handkerchief, but after Desdemona dies, she explodes into a ball of almighty fury as she tells off Othello, Iago, and anyone else within the range of her voice. At the end, she ultimately serves as the deliverer of the totally necessary "Hey by the way, you screwed up" message after Othello kills his wife. Othello, now with the knowledge that Desdemona was innocent after all, Othello takes his life, and Slam, Bam, now you've got a tragedy.
I do not understand the purpose of the clown.
Othello - The End
Tragedies always tend to leave a bad taste in my mouth. This one, certainly, was no exception. I mean, the mandatory ending in which about half of the major characters all kill each other usually makes it all worthwhile, but usually it doesn't quite go how I want it to. The wrong people get killed off and the deaths are kind of crappy. Now, I knew going into this that Othello was going to die, since it's a tragedy and all, but by the end there I was reeeeeally pulling for Desdemona. I didn't start off with a whole boatload of sympathy for the lady, but after about three acts of "I really don't understand why you're angry with me," I felt kind of bad for her. I think that the worst thing about the ending is that she doesn't even know why this is happening. Othello doesn't say "I'm going to kill you because you cheated on me." He just leads with "I'm going to kill you," and then he does. Frankly, Willy, I feel that she deserves better than that, you've been jerking her around for three acts now, I think she deserves an explanation. Othello killed himself, which is certainly to be expected. Frankly, I don't really care, by the end of the play, I'd decided he was an utter scumbag. I don't care if he personally saw Desdemona doing the nasty with the whole cast, nothing gives him the right to put his hands on a lady. I was also a tad disappointed in the ultimate fate of Iago. He doesn't actually die, he just gets wounded and then stops talking. I feel that one of the most outright evil characters I've ever encountered definitely ought to die, at the very least. I think it's just a bit silly to spend a whole play building up this character to be so totally hateable, and then you just...wound...him.... Disappointing.
Furthermore, I was extremely disappointed that the Duke did not make a reappearance at the end in order to give us all an inspirational speech. I was really looking forward to that...
Furthermore, I was extremely disappointed that the Duke did not make a reappearance at the end in order to give us all an inspirational speech. I was really looking forward to that...
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Othello - Suspense
This here blog post will be handling Question number 4, which concerns suspense and how it is created. Now, the audience gets to learn a great deal about what's going on, but poor Othello seems to just be left in the dark. Since so far the play has actually centered around Iago, who is making all sorts of sneaky plans, the audience gets a glimpse at what's happening while most of the other characters don't really know. This is done mainly through soliloquy. On several occasions, all of the characters besides Iago have simply left the stage so that Iago could spill his guts to the audience in peace. At the end of Act I, after Iago talks Roderigo out of suicide, he takes the stage alone and lets the whole audience know exactly why he really wants to take revenge on Othello. At the end of Act II scene i, Iago lets us all know his ultimate plan for vengeance: making the beast with two backs with his beloved Desdemona. This certainly leads to quite a bit of suspense and tension in Act III as Iago and Othello buddy up and have a long conversation together, Othello seemingly oblivious to Iago's plot while the audience watches, waiting for Iago to slip up, let his emotions get the best of him, or move on with his evil plan of vengeance. Oh dramadramadrama...
Othello - Theme
Naturally, I'll be tackling question number five with this blog post. Usually, the idea of theme terrifies me and I prefer to stay away from it, but Mr. Costello was kind enough to mention several of the themes before we even cracked the book open, so I think I'll give this a shot. Like 98% of Shakespeare's work, one of the themes is revenge centered around jealousy, which just happens to be one of my most favorite themes ever. Nothing is really as universally human as jealousy, and vengeance is just a natural instinct. And it appears that revenge is going to be the driving point behind the plot of this play, since Iago, previously identified as the Vehicle of Vengeance, has had more screentime than practically every other character combined thus far. And in Act two, we start to see his plan unravel. He manages to get Cassio drunk and uses his patsy Roderigo to start a ruckus and get the beloved lieutenant ousted from his position. Why, I can practically see Iago marking off Step One of his Diabolical Scheme of Vengeance. Step Two is revealed in Iago's little soliloquy in II.i.265-291. Specifically "For that I do suspect the lusty Moor hath leaped into my seat. The thought whereof doth like a poisonous mineral gnaw my inwards, and nothing can or shall content my soul till I am evened with him, wife for wife." Basically, it appears that Iago is no totally convinced that Othello has had an affair with his wife, and he shall now claim revenge by doing the same with Othello's Desdemona. oh dramadramadrama. Anyhoo, long story short, from what I've seen so far, it appears that the theme of revenge centered around jealousy will be the driving force behind the plot of Othello.
A Story About a Fellow by the name of Othello
That title took me much longer to come up with than I'd ever like to admit, and it still sounds just...awful...
I had mixed feelings about Othello as I read the first act. I honestly felt disappointed. It almost seemed as though William Shakespeare, the king of drama, the bane of every literature student's existence, had copped out and thrown together a play about a father who doesn't like that his daughter is marrying a black dude. And I was just thinking really, Shakespeare? This is the best you've got for me?" But don't worry, ol' Willy pulled through for me. I always say that it's not a Shakespeare play if nobody swears revenge for something at some point. And it appears that this time around, our vendetta vehicle will be none other than Iago the Ensign. Now, initially there was just the blatantly obvious reason why he wanted vengeance: Othello gave his job to some nerdy bookworm named Cassio and bumped him down to third-in-command, as made evident right off the bat in I.i.18-33. However, he's got another motive, which I didn't quite catch immediately. He hates Othello not just because he gave someone else the position he wanted but more importantly because he suspects that he's been a-foolin' around with his wifey behind the scenes. "I hate the Moor, and it is thought abroad that 'twixt my sheets he's done my office." Iago admits that it's just a rumor, but for now, he assumes it to be true. So Iago shall claim vengeance, and it appears that Roderigo will end up being the patsy who gets used to achieve this glorious vengeance.
Now, the question has in fact been raised "What is the dealio with Iago's random usage of prose?" I'll take that, if'n ya please. The most prominent case of Iago's prose shift is in line 304 ish of I.iii. I have to say ish, because during prose sections it gets a wee bit difficult to tell where one line ends and another begins. Anyway, what prompts this change from iambic pentameter to prose is that Roderigo says he will "incontinently drown" himself, literally just kill himself. Now, my theory is simply that Iago is so upset or emotionally alarmed by the idea of his buddy Roderigo offing himself that he stops counting out his syllables and just lets loose everything that's on his mind.
I had mixed feelings about Othello as I read the first act. I honestly felt disappointed. It almost seemed as though William Shakespeare, the king of drama, the bane of every literature student's existence, had copped out and thrown together a play about a father who doesn't like that his daughter is marrying a black dude. And I was just thinking really, Shakespeare? This is the best you've got for me?" But don't worry, ol' Willy pulled through for me. I always say that it's not a Shakespeare play if nobody swears revenge for something at some point. And it appears that this time around, our vendetta vehicle will be none other than Iago the Ensign. Now, initially there was just the blatantly obvious reason why he wanted vengeance: Othello gave his job to some nerdy bookworm named Cassio and bumped him down to third-in-command, as made evident right off the bat in I.i.18-33. However, he's got another motive, which I didn't quite catch immediately. He hates Othello not just because he gave someone else the position he wanted but more importantly because he suspects that he's been a-foolin' around with his wifey behind the scenes. "I hate the Moor, and it is thought abroad that 'twixt my sheets he's done my office." Iago admits that it's just a rumor, but for now, he assumes it to be true. So Iago shall claim vengeance, and it appears that Roderigo will end up being the patsy who gets used to achieve this glorious vengeance.
Now, the question has in fact been raised "What is the dealio with Iago's random usage of prose?" I'll take that, if'n ya please. The most prominent case of Iago's prose shift is in line 304 ish of I.iii. I have to say ish, because during prose sections it gets a wee bit difficult to tell where one line ends and another begins. Anyway, what prompts this change from iambic pentameter to prose is that Roderigo says he will "incontinently drown" himself, literally just kill himself. Now, my theory is simply that Iago is so upset or emotionally alarmed by the idea of his buddy Roderigo offing himself that he stops counting out his syllables and just lets loose everything that's on his mind.
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