Final - Feminism - The Original Sin

Catherine Foley

Dr. Wexler

English 638

14 May 2010

The Good, The Bad, and the Innocent: Outing Milton the Feminist

Despite religion’s efforts to classify Eve’s Fall as disobedience, closer scrutiny reveals that
her choice to ignore the dictates of a patriarchal ruler should be defined as the first act o Feminism. Ever since the “second wave of feminism,” there has been a penchant to analyze the literary canon with revisionist lenses. Initially, the charged atmosphere seemed to reverberate with echoes of the radical cry from the 1960s: ”Down with the man!”. Feminists may have been taking this too literally, since the synecdoche “The man” signifies the mainstream: political bureaucracy, big business and Big Brother. This does not deny that the literary canon did not consist of and was not established by men; however, in their eagerness to bring about change, feminist critics narrowed the lens through which they evaluated the literature. The stalwart classics and their authors were summarily dismissed as a part of the patriarchal hierarchy, rather than examined for their value and content. In addition, there was no consideration given to the era or genre in which they were composed. The “man”, in the literary sense, became men. The word misogynist got bandied about, and authors were tarnished and discredited. The Salem Witch Trials had come to Academia.

One of the primary targets of feminists has been John Milton. In 1980 Sandra M. Gilbert and Susan Gubar published their work, “The Madwoman in the Attic,” and with one short phrase, “Milton, despite his undeniable misogyny,” they labeled and libeled the poet (Gilbert 814). Their reputations were erected on the skeletal remains of the former literary giants, and many feminist critics jumped on the bandwagon to condemn Milton’s treatment of Eve in his epic poem Paradise Lost. However, in their exposition of the poem, most adversarial critics gazed through a lens that was colored by their own personal agenda. The purpose of this paper is to provide a dialogical discourse between the feminist and post feminist perspectives as a refutation to the criticism of Gilbert and Gubar. In this way, Milton will be recognized as one who takes a progressive outlook and situates himself in the feminist movement well before its formal existence. I will prove that Milton paints Eve as the heroic figure in Paradise Lost, and that her heroism is attained in part by her uprising against the control of a patriarchal God.

Ironically, these same critics who so quickly condemned Milton are now being judged in reference to their analysis of his work, since it “affords a valuable perspective on the history of reading and of interpretation, and what was allowably said of this poem, or …on what was being sidestepped or silenced” (Wittreich 503). “The Madwoman in the Attic” closes with the position that women authors in the eighteenth century were to be praised for the role that they had taken in rebellion against the female stereotypes set forth by a patriarchy. However, what the authors ignore and disregard, and who have no story for them are the supporters of Milton in the seventeenth century. Milton was immensely popular with female readership during his lifetime. He was widely read by young and old, rich and poor. Often, what is lost in contemporary criticism is the audience to which Milton was immediately accessible: the early modern English readership. Barbara Lewalski, who has devoted her studies to Milton, writes that the second wave of feminism has done the world a tremendous service by helping to uncover the writings by women that were ‘lost’ or disregarded until that time. However, Gilbert and Gubar make no mention of the reaction from those who were Milton’s contemporaries. In Milton, many who stood for women’s rights found not an antagonist, but a sympathizer and a compatriot. In contradiction to the belief that women authors were completely repressed during Milton’s age, there was an active outcry of feminists in response to a pejorative pamphlet written by Joseph Swetnam. After the publication of The Araignment of Leud, idle, froward, and unconstant women by Swetnam, female writers countered by overt and explicit retaliation in print. Authors who wrote under pen names, such as Constantia Munda,, Ester Sowerman and Rachel Speght, voiced their responses in pamphlets that responded to the accusation that women were inferior to men, alluding to the creation of woman from Adam‘s rib. Milton, who never backed away from controversial issues, would have been aware of this contention, and he would have relished using his epic as a way to enter the arena of debate. Although many men may have agreed with Swetnam, Milton would have taken the route that was less traveled and refrained from custom or tradition.

Diane McColley recognizes the allure and motivation in condemning or condoning Milton in print: “One measure of the power of Milton’s poetry is that readers so often either love it or hate it, and that those who hate it nevertheless go on writing about it” (McColley 147). For centuries, the tide of acceptance and abhorrence has ebbed and flowed in shifting patterns. The work of Milton in Paradise Lost is heady, esoteric, and paradoxical. This technique is typical of the Renaissance writers who use the Bible as their paradigm. Authors intentionally include statements and ideas that are contradictory; their mission is to have the reader use powers of reason to discern “the truth” contained within (Pruitt). Without fully evaluating the sources on which Milton draws, the truth is difficult, if not impossible, to discern. Although he leans heavily on the ideology that had been previously published in his political, educational, and sociological treatises, Milton creates a pastiche from Greek and Roman myth, the Torah, the Christian Bible, his own prose, and revolutionary flights of fancy. Paradise Lost is also recognized as incorporating the views of St. Augustine, but Gilbert and Gubar find fault with this. Subsequently, they define Milton as one who is “descending from Patristic misogynists like Tertullian and St. Augustine” (Gilbert 821). They provide no clarification to indicate what part of Augustine’s theological position they are referencing. However, by pairing St. Augustine and Tertullian together, the assumption is that the reference alludes to the controversy over the source matter for creation. Here, Milton actually turns away from the theology of Tertullian and Augustine, creatio ex nihilo, and favors that of Justin Martyr, Clement of Alexandria, and Cambridge Platonists, creatio ex Deo (Campbell 108). Since the critique does not clarify the exact exegesis to which they refer, the reader must make an assumption in order to confirm or reject this position. The authors are remiss in not elaborating on their position.

St. Augustine does have clearly defined statements on the culpability in the Fall. The importance in St. Augustine’s interpretation of the events in the Fall stem from his theological analysis of Adam’s motivation. According to Augustine, Adam falls from his own choice, not by deception. Some have painted the deception of Eve as the worse possible scenario; however, it is the intent of Adam that condemns his action, even more than the act itself. When Adam consciously decides to disobey God‘s directive, he makes a deliberate choice to remain with Eve. Adam does not fall; he leaps. Milton uses God’s words to express his own sentiments that original sin is repairable for man, but that God remains intolerant of Satan and his cohorts: “they themselves ordained their Fall./ The first sort by their own suggestion fell /Self-tempted, self-depraved. Man falls deceived /By th‘other first: Man therefore shall find grace, The other none” (III.128-132). The defining difference between mankind and Satan exists because Satan has the intention of sinning, not through deception. Man is only forgiven for the Fall because of the deception. However, this can only relate to Eve, since she is the one deceived, and St. Augustine clearly states this premise, “Adam transgressed the law of God, not because he was deceived into believing that the lie was true, but because in obedience to a social compulsion he yielded to Eve, as husband to wife, as the only man in the world to the only woman. Adam was not deceived but the woman was deceived” (Chambers 121). Therefore, mankind is saved from eternal punishment because Adam and Eve are sentenced as a couple. “Deceive by Satan, Eve eats of the forbidden fruit in the mistaken belief that her action is right;” she saves Adam from eternal damnation, since to sin by deception is not as egregious as deliberate and premeditated disobedience (Chambers 118). In a sense, Adam is given a free ride on the Eve’s coattails, .
Eve may fall by deception, but what is clear to her is her goal: increased knowledge. The pursuit of knowledge, as Milton makes it clear from his own experiences as well as his writings, is noble and praiseworthy. As Milton’s imaginative extrapolation asserts, Eve is allowed to emerge as the savior of man and thus, mankind. However, Eve is willing to sacrifice more for the unborn generations of her progeny. She suggests to Adam that they remain celibate for their lives, and if Adam does not possess the fortitude and strength to follow through, they should commit suicide. In this way, they can deprive Sin and Death of the unlimited amount of souls they hope to conquer in the future. Thus, like God the Son, Eve offers herself as a martyr, a sacrificial lamb in order to deny Satan and his minions. In this flight of fancy, Milton makes it clear who matches his expectations of a hero. There is no escaping the basic framework of the story, Eve must “fall” and God the Son must become incarnate to redeem mankind. However, within this criteria, he portrays Eve as the most admirable character: she is nothing less than heroic.

Many critics of Milton have been discredited by scholars, since they relied on a “maneuver that first disengages the poem from the context of Milton’s prose writings with which it enjoys an elaborate and meaningful intertextuality” (Wittreich 503). For those who have an extensive knowledge of Milton and his works, there is no fair assessment that can be made of his poetry unless it is examined under the auspices of his prose. This concept stands in opposition to Gilbert and Gubar, who state: “male writers traditionally praise the simplicity of the dove, …assertiveness, aggressiveness - all characteristics of a male life of “significant action” - are “monstrous” in women precisely because “unfeminine” and therefore unsuited to a gentle life of “contemplative purity” (Gilber 819). They add to this claim later in the piece when they state that “a life of female rebellion, of ‘significant action’ is a life that must be silenced’” (Gilbert 824). However, Milton does have Eve does rebel, and she does take action. This is a noble trait that Milton has made clear in the Second Defense of the English People. Milton is highly critical of those who fail to take action when the result is an improvement of the situation at hand. Certainly for Eve to engage in an act that would bring her increased knowledge, possibly even put her into an enlightened and altered state of being, would be considered as a positive choice. To fail to act on this opportunity would be a weakness in Milton’s eyes.

When Eve thinks that she, like the serpent, will be elevated in position, it is in part because both she and Adam have already been conditioned to believe this by Raphael. The angel seems to be channeling the thoughts of Milton, who holds the belief that “all creation aspires upward through the orders of being[; c]hange is a goal and a duty. God created mankind to dwell initially on earth” (Creaser 165). This is overtly stated in the poem: ‘Not here [in heaven], till by degrees of merit raised/ They open to themselves at length the way/ Up hither, under long obedience tried, /And earth be changed to heaven, and heaven to earth” (Milton VII. 157-160). Adam and Eve expect that will eventually transcend their present state. In the theory of the Great Chain of Being, one step up, and man becomes angels; two rungs up is God. Eve believes that she will gain knowledge to make her, at the very least, an equal partner to Adam. Since Eve feels that she is not on equal footing with Adam, and she wants that changed. She desires and expects equality as a minimum; she hopes for and anticipates superiority at the best. When Milton incorporates this attitude into his epic, he hearkens back to his stance in The Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce. Milton makes it clear that unless a partner is fit intellectually, the relationship is not idyllic. What Milton also does, simultaneously, is to make the same argument that feminists, such as Gilbert and Gubar make: when the minority or “the other” is positioned into a placement of inferiority and/or subjugation, they will desire equality and ultimately they will rebel. However, the feminists fall into the trap that many have succumbed to, “Milton’s image of the Garden of Paradise and his presentation of the State of Innocence have proved especially susceptible to unconscious distortion” (Lewalski 86).

Part of the reason that Eve partakes in the fruit is that her identity is based on her feeling that she is inferior to Adam. This attribute also exemplifies a crucial difference between Eve and Satan. Satan is horrified at the suggestion of change. This is an underlying factor in his continued degradation and degeneration throughout the text. He emerges as a paradox. who is “the poem’s most dynamic character and yet throughout shows himself to be trapped in his rigidity of pride. Indeed, much of his dramatic power comes from the conflict between his capacity for change and his insistence on fixity” (Creaser 162). In contrast, Eve gives voice to the fact that she relishes the changes she sees in nature: “All seasons and their change, all please alike” (IV. 640).

Eve may feel as though she is not on par with Adam, but Milton supports her equality through Adam’s request to God for a companion. To show that woman is the equal of man, not his inferior, Milton creates a dialogue between Adam and God. When Adam asks for a companion, Adam makes it clear that he wants an equal: “Among unequals what society /Can sort, what harmony or true delight?/ Which must be mutual, in proportion due/Given and received; but, in disparity/ The one intense, the other still remiss/ Cannot well suit with either, but soon prove/ Tedious alike: of fellowship I speak /Such as I seek, fit to participate all rational delight…(VIII. 383-391). Milton’s “Eden is an opportunity to grow in wisdom, virtue, and perfection, and normally Adam and Eve must take the initiative interpreting what happens to them and in seeking new knowledge and experience. Normally, too, they respond to a new situation by one or two false starts” (Lewalski 101). Strangely, the omnipotent God gives Eve only one chance in her direct confrontation with Satan, even though both Adam and Eve have exhibited that they seldom succeed the first time. Eve mistakes her own reflection for another entity; Adam tries to talk to the animals, and he does not understand the relationship between Eden and the universe. A misconception that his more dire circumstances is his interpretation of Eve’s dream.

Adam is not the only one who suffers from confusion. Adam clarifies statements that Raphael has misunderstood. When Raphael suggests that Adam is only attracted by Eve’s beauty, Adam is quick to correct this false impression. An inconsistency has been pointed out by Mary Wollstonecraft, where she first condemns Milton for having Eve say, “ My author and Disposer, what thou bidst/ Unargued I obey, so God ordains; God is thy law, thou mine; to know no more/ Is Woman’s happiest knowledge and her praise,” and then citing the speech of Adam that is quoted above. (Wollstonecraft 587). However, the difference of the Eve who makes the statement cited, and the Eve who longs for intellectual equality and takes agency to have this occur have undergone a growth period. Wollstonecraft is right in this inconsistency, but she fails to take into account that Eve, though born a woman is but a newborn. The reader sees the growth of Eve throughout the text. Her development is the epitome of bildungsroman. To borrow Gilbert and Gubar’s allusion, she has been seeing “through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now [she knows] in part; but then shall [she] know even as also [she is] known (I Corinthians 13:12). At the moment when Eve decides to eat of the fruit, she has looked into the looking glass clearly. She has come to terms with her own sense of identity, and she sees herself as strong and capable. She thinks ahead to the consequences and devises a plan of action. Milton does not feel he created a monster when Eve eats the apple. This is supported by William Empson, when he quotes E.M.W. Tillyard with the insight that “if Milton had been in the Garden, he would have eaten the apple at once and written a pamphlet to prove that it was his duty”( Empson 172).

However, what is just as important as what she does is to whom is Eve, according to Milton, being rebellious. This God has been suggested by authors such as William Empson in Milton’s God and Michael Bryson in Tyranny in Heaven. In the latter work, Bryson suggests that Milton’s ‘great task-master’ is not a figure of unconditional love, but is, rather, a maker of demands, a setter of standards, a white-gloved inspector looking for dust in the corners of his creatures’ souls. Such a God must be dealt with, accounted for, and struggled with, but he is not a figure who inspires love, loyalty, or even admiration. A God imagined as a ‘task-master is to be feared” (Bryson 12).
This is reminiscent of the portrait that Gilbert and Gubar paint of Milton. They suggest that he is dogmatic and relentless in his willingness to subjugate women. God, however, carries no such gender discrimination. Milton paints a very different image of prelapsarian Eden than most artists. Rather than draw an image of Adam and Eve at the moment of the Fall, Milton shows them as industrious, working side by side. Both are required to perform certain tasks each day in order to keep the vegetation trimmed. There is an irony to this scenario: God seems to put artificial constraints on everything and everyone. Nothing seems to be able to grow to its own maximum potential without violating the perimeters/parameters that God has ordained. It has been questioned how Satan is able to violate the defenses God has put into place, and the question of predestination or actually adhering to God’s plan, rather than rebelling against it, is the main factor in the actions that take place in the Garden. Leon Howard makes a connection between the principals in the scenario:
The summary of this analysis of the operation of the efficient cause in the major argument of Paradise Lost is by no means complete, but sufficient to show that each of the characters in the drama of man’s first disobedience occupies a role of deception set forth in Milton’s conception of that cause as set forth in his Art of Logic. God is the remote first cause, who moves so mysterious way that human reason can find a force for teaching only in those more approximate causes with which he works. Adam, impelled by a deficience of nature within him, was the principal cause of “all our woe.” Eve provided the occasion of his first disobedience. And Satan was the instrument by which the catastrophe was brought about (Howard).

Although he provides a road map that makes an argument for the complicity of God as an active participant in the events that unfold, the point is that Eve takes agency in her attempt to excel and find fulfillment, thus she should be praised. Needless to say, the first cause in the epic is Milton, and it is ultimately Milton who makes the decision about how he fills in the gaps of the creation story he relates. He chooses to make Eve as the hero. Richard Ohmann claims that devising a canon of literature always entails a “struggle for dominance” based on “cultural hegemony” (Ohmann 1880). To exclude Milton from serious and impartial consideration is to privilege some works over others as a emblem of power, rather than discernment. Milton, who consistently addressed the insidious dangers of tyranny would be amused to see that he is, through his work, still embroiled in the same battle.

Works Cited

Cambell, Gordon. Milton and the Manuscript of De Docterina Christiana. New York:

Oxford UP, 2007.

Chambers, A.B. “The Falls of Adam and Eve in Paradise Lost.” New Essays on Paradise Lost.

Ed. Thomas Kranidas. Berkeley: U of California P, 1971. 118-131.

Creaser, John. “‘Fear of change‘: Closed Minds and Open Forms in Milton.” Milton Quarterly

42.3 (2008): 161-182.

Gilbert, Sandra and Susan Gubar. “The Madwoman in the Attic.” Literary Theory: An

Anthology Second Edition. Malden: Blackwell, 2004.

Howard, Leon. “’ The Invention’ of Milton’s ‘Great Argument’: A Study of the Logic of ‘God’s

Ways to Men.’” Huntington Library Quarterly 9.2 (Feb 1946):149-173. Web. JSTOR. 16 May

2010.

Lewalski, Barbara Kiefer. “Innocence and Experience in Milton’s Eden.” New Essays on

Paradise Lost. Ed. Thomas Kranidas. Berkeley: U of California P, 1971. 86-117.

Kolodny, Annette. “Dancing Through the Minefield.” Ed. Vincent B. Leitch. The Norton

Anthology of Theory and Criticism. New York: Norton, 2001. 2146-2165

McColley, Diane Kelsey. Milton’s Eve. Ed. Timothy C. Miller. Westport: Greenwood, 1997.

(263-271).

Milton, John. Paradise Lost. Ed. Gordon Teskey. New York: Norton, 2005

Ohmann, Richard. “Shaping of a Canon: U.S. Fiction, 1960-1975.” Ed. Vincent B. Leitch. The

Norton Anthology of Theory and Criticism. New York: Norton, 2001. 1880-1887.

Pruitt, Kristin A. Gender and the Power of Relationship: “united as one individual soul” in

Paradise Lost. Pittsburgh: Duquesne UP, 2003.

Wittreich, Joseph A. “Critiquing the Feminist Critique.” Paradise Lost. Ed. Gordon Teskey.

New York: Norton, 2005.

Preview: The Elephant Man Cometh

This week's post is very different, since the object is to blog about my participation/contribution to the upcoming presentation. The first item that I would like to address is the group itself. Each member of our group brought an attitude of responsibility, cooperation, and enthusiasm to each meeting. We met during class time, but we also met an hour before class for three weeks. One thing was obvious throughout each meeting: this group understood how to work effectively. There were no egos, and every time we met, we brainstormed easily and consistently. In addition, we all did our homework. Each of us worked to secure the movie, so that we could watch it. Larry even bought the play,read it, referenced it during our meetings to help us understand the nuances of difference, and brought it to our Friday night meeting in case there was any way that it could be used. We had arranged to meet the week before, but I needed to cancel, due to an obligation at work that came up unexpectedly.
We met on Friday night before the presentation, and I opened up my home for the occasion. I also brought different videos, as did Tiffany, although I felt very confident about the video that I had previously mentioned to the group. I would rather not mention the video title, since I think the element of surprise will make our presentation more effective.
We all brainstormed, bouncing ideas off each other, inspiring each other. The finished product is a collaborative effort. I know that I am supposed to defend my participation, but I don't feel comfortable singling myself out, since our strength came from the cooperative environment. Many ideas were presented, and many fell by the wayside, but everyone just accepted what was good for the final product.
Early in our meetings, I offered to look up New Historicism, and I ran copies for each of us. However, the readings that we did, as well as our prior knowledge of theory, helped us to decide the direction. I will say that Dylan was our resident theory expert, but we all read in order to try to contribute.
When we watched the videos at my home: we re-watched key scenes that we had all decided were most appropriate for our purposes, compared the videos for continuity, and set up our last meeting. Of course, I don't know how well the presentation will be received, but we left feeling good about the ideas we approved. We decided that we wanted to go back to simplicity and purity of content. We feel that the videos are strong, and the way that we are presenting them seems as though it adds to comprehension and retention of the material.

The Madwoman in the Garden - The Irony of the Beginnings of a Final

In both his epic poems, Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained, John Milton is portrayed by feminist critics to be a misogynist. However, when the character of Eve is taken in light of Milton's major themes throughout his life, the importance of intellectual growth, the importance of liberty over license, and the refusal to assimilate traditional values and norms because they are custom, a different interpretation of Eve's character emerges. In her role as the domestic goddess who maintains the beauty of the nuptial bower while carefully pruning the flora and fauna, Eve does match the "angel" image described bySusan Gilbert and Susan Gubar in "The Madwoman in the Attic." Similarly, in her role as the temptress who seduces Adam not only with the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, but also with his refusal to give up the sexual pleasure he has enjoyed with her, she is reduced to the "monster."
However, scrutiny of her character shows more than this one-dimensional impression. Milton deviates from traditional religious texts to offer a portrait of a woman who has not had the time to mature into the self-sacrificing and resourcefully brave heroine of his poem. By referencing the beliefs that Milton freely expresses in his prose, where he is unrestricted by the need to re-tell an existing story, it is possible to see that Milton had deliberately painted a positive image of the defamed and maligned feminine role.

The Internationality of the Subversion of Women

Some of the readings from last week were familiar, but others were new and different for me. All of them were interesting, but they had a much different feel, a detachment from relevance, since they were read only in relationship to each other and to refresh or glean information. This week, as I read Woman Warrior for the first time, the readings suddenly were grounded by looking at their relationship to literature. The theory and concepts, which had been abstracts, take on true meaning when there is an identity with which to ground them.
I was intrigued by the title of the book, and I thought I had no pre-coneived notions of the subject matter. However, as I started reading, I was quite surprised at the concepts. Of course, it morphs into something very different in subsequent sections. The words of Andalzua kept resonating through my reading. Not even the words, but the emotions to the situation. As a native to the United States, it is difficult to comprehend the culture shock of trying to maintain the familiar - home, family, traditions - while simultaneously trying to incorporate and be accepted into new traditions, language, economics, and laws.
Because of the Asian references and the repeated reference to foot binding, I think that I was immediately reminded of Snow Flower and the Secret Fan, as well as Memoirs of a Geisha. However, different cultures have their ways of suppressing women through dress and the ideals of beauty and modesty. Whether they are laced in a corset or shrouded in a burkah or bound at the feet, the message is the same: women are expected to maintain constructed and imposed ideas of what is acceptable for them. Conversely, men are often allowed to adapt to more modern attire while simultaneously demanding "tradition" from their female counterparts. Through all of this, women have been split in their reactions. At times, there are strong alliances and support systems that have emerged, sometimes in spite of the threat of physical and emotional punishment and/or isolation. At other times, this has served as the impetus to alienate women from each other, as opposing camps are set up to subvert or support the system. However, there has also been men who have emerged as ardent and vocal supporters of the lifting of gender boundaries.
In A Thousand Splended Suns, Khaled Hosseini is so impassioned about presenting the case of the plight of the Muslim woman that it is difficult to remember that it is written by a man. The sensitivity with which he notates the actions, thoughts, and emotions of his fictional characters has such authenticity and depth that the reader cannot help but to internalize their plight. There has, for quite a while, been a camaraderie between those who are identified by their "otherness." However, this unity between the disenfranchised or the fringe of mainstream and "the other" does little to change the social dynamics in most of the world. The target keeps shifting, and it almost seems as if we have a need to define ourselves by our reflection of our ideals as well as our identity formed by our separation from "the other."
While our country touts the successes it has made in thinking it has broken the glass ceiling because women now make up more of the work force, or a gay relationship is featured in movies and television, we stop to pat ourselves on the back and bask in the glow of self-congratulations, while little has really changed. If living in a global economy has really changed the way the world in a positive way, has united us, then why do we worry more about being called Ms. instead of Miss or using the term administrative assistant instead of secretary, rather than focusing on a 13-year old who is stoned by 50 men in front of 1,000 witnesses in Somalia for being raped by 3 men. Partisan politics in our own country have closed us off to what a person has to say instead of what his party affiliation is. We fight our own small battles, and take baby steps forward, only to remain paralyzed to take that giant leap. So, what is the solution? I wish I knew. What I do know is the power of the written word, no longer just in diaries and journals and encoded fiction, but in the blatant dissemination of information. Truth and Knowledge are Power, to borrow a concept that is predominant in the theory of Foucault. However, this idea are also inherent and explicitly stated in Andalsua's theory. As long as we subscribe to "predefined concepts that exist as unquestionable, unchallengeable," then we are susceptible to fall prey to travesties of injustice, to the hegemony that allows cultural norms to override an inherent moral base that constitutes ethical treatment of the individual.

Rivkin and Ryan and Verse - Oh My!

This poem by May Swenson, entitled "Women" is such a deliciously simple yet insightful commentary on the willingness of women to be subjected to domination. The irony of the word pedestal, with the traditional concept of putting a woman on a pedestal, removed and untouchable, pure and chaste is convoluted to be something that men mount, not just in sexual positioning, but in a domination. The implication that women should be "sweet, painted, and wooden" brings in images of The Stepford Wives.

Women Or they

should be should be

pedestals little horses

moving those wooden

pedestals sweet

moving oldfashioned

to the painted

motions rocking

of men horses

the gladdest things in the toyroom

The feelingly

pegs and then

of their unfeelingly

ears To be

so familiar joyfully

and dear ridden

to the trusting rockingly

fists ridden until

To be chafed the restored

egos dismount and the legs stride away

Immobile willing

sweetlipped to be set

sturdy into motion

and smiling Women

women should be

should always pedestals

be waiting to men

Another of her poems uses the phallic image of the knife and the feminine symbol of blood to reference the menstrual cycle. Again, she has the idea of the mastery of the male persona in the knife, and the woman is the wound. However, this also could be applied to the ideas of "the other" set forth in post-colonialism. In the exploitation of the indigenous populations, the willingness of the oppressed to accommodate the oppressor is contrasted with the interloper insinuating the blame for any sufferings on the victim, the disgust and aversion to looking at the damage that is a by-product of the action, and a failure to accept any culpability, which is all relevant to domination by a "civilized" force.

Bleeding

Stop bleeding said the knife

I would if I could said the cut.

Stop bleeding you make me messy with the blood.

I'm sorry said the cut.

Stop or I will sink in farther said the knife.

Don't said the cut.

The knife did not say it couldn't help it but

it sank in farther.

If only you didn't bleed said the knife I wouldn't

have to do this.

I know said the cut I bleed too easily I hate

that I can't help it I wish I were a knife like

you and didn't have to bleed.

Well meanwhile stop bleeding will you said the knife.

Yes you are a mess and sinking in deeper said the cut I

will have to stop.

Have you stopped by now said the knife.

I've almost stopped I think.

Why must you bleed in the first place said the knife.

For the same reason maybe that you must do what you

must do said the cut.

I can't stand bleeding said the knife and sank in farther.

I hate it too said the cut I know it isn't you it's

me you're lucky to be a knife you ought to be glad about that.

Too many cuts around said the knife they're

messy I don't know how they stand themselves.

They don't said the cut.

You're bleeding again.

No I've stopped said the cut see you are coming out now the

blood is drying it will rub off you'll be shiny again and clean.

If only cuts wouldn't bleed so much said the knife coming

out a little.

But then knives might become dull said the cut.

Aren't you still bleeding a little said the knife.

I hope not said the cut.

I feel you are just a little.

Maybe just a little but I can stop now.

I feel a little wetness still said the knife sinking in a

little but then coming out a little.

Just a little maybe just enough said the cut.

That's enough now stop now do you feel better now said the knife.

I feel I have to bleed to feel I think said the cut.

I don't I don't have to feel said the knife drying now

becoming shiny.
May Swenson

Survival of the Fittest in the American Jungle

Sinclair and PETA - I could post a video of a celebrity showing the practices of corporations in their bid to produce maximum profit at minimal expenditure, but like the images expressed in The Jungle, they are difficult to take. Of course, the novel extends beyond the cruelty to animals. Sinclair uses the animals as a parallel to highlight the exploitation of the worker and the futility in trying to capture the American Dream. However, although the dynamics of Sinclair's novel were published during a period of limited media coverage, they still resonate as loudly today as during Sinclair's lifetime.
The early 1900s saw waves of immigrants who came with hope and innocence, both of which were systematically destroyed during a desperate struggle to survive. However, where are the safeguards one hundred years later that prevent this mercenary approach to the workforce that is the backbone of any corporation? True, there are child labor laws to protect the children; there are minimum wage laws to "guarantee" a supposed living wage; there is OSHA to watch out for violations that endanger the life and health of workers. However, the reality is that backroom deals are still made, there are ways to skirt the laws, such as paying under the table, there are expensive court fights that take too much time and money for the average worker to prove his case. So, as miners die in explosions, farm workers drop dead in strawberry fields from the exposure to lethal pesticides, and government bailouts protect the companies that are "too big to fail" while the homeowner is forced to abandon an upside down mortgage, one wonders what loyalty is owed to the Kings of the Jungle, the Captains of Industry? Is Sinclair correct when he points suggests that these problems are endemic and inherent in a capitalistic society. Sadly, although there are companies with a conscience, who treat employees well, until the American public is willing to stand up and use its power both in the voting booth and the boycott of products that exploit animals and workers, Sinclair will be as relevant in the next hundred years as he is today.
I am also reminded of one of my favorite short stories, "'Repent, Harlequin!' Said the Ticktockman" by Harlan Ellison. Although the point of this "new wave" science fiction is to alert society to the dangers of technology, it is also a warning of the exploitation of the worker in the name of efficiency and profit. The opening of the story really says it all, and I feel no need to elaborate with commentary, since its clarity and poetry suffice.

          The mass of men serve the state thus, not as men mainly,
         but as machines, with their bodies. Others--as most legislators, politicians, lawyers, ministers,
         and office-holders--serve the state chiefly with their heads;
         and, as they rarely make any moral distinctions, they are as
         likely to serve the devil, without intending it, as God.
         A very few--as heroes, patriots, martyrs, reformers in the
         great sense, and men ---serve the state with their consciences
         also, and so necessarily resist it for the most part; and
         they are commonly treated as enemies by it. 

Wicked Karl Marx is Off to See the Wizard

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zMLEAAnfxYw



I will admit that I am a huge fan of the show Wicked. Actually, I saw it five times, and seriously considered a sixth. So, it seems natural that as I read the ideas of Marxism and his theory that the illusion of the ruling class is created by the intellectual elite of the ruling class; however, eventually a schism of hostility erupts. I immediately thought of the Wizard of Oz, with the Wizard behind the curtain pulling all the strings. I thought of how the people and the Wizard were like one. Both seemed synonymous in their interests and outlook, and that made the people eager to have a "strong personality" with incredible power as their protector. However, when one looked behind the curtain, there was a resounding hostility that a charlatan had been hiding behind smoke and mirrors and actually usurping the credit that belonged to the people. Unfortunately, there seems to block on importing that scene.

However, I was also reminded of the scene from Wicked, where Glinda is presented as Eva Peron. Someone else chose to make the connection for me, so I am presenting their video work.
The idea that a ruler to further his own power, prestige, and economic interests is not new. Nor is it new that the interests of the general populace must appear to be the focal point of the representative is also not new. It was interesting to read the book, which is even more graphic than the play, where the manipulation of a public figure by forces that remain behind the scenes and appear to represent the common man are historically almost stereotypical and trite. The fact that the reality mirrors the fiction is not surprising.

The main concept that the video highlights is that Glinda always emerges from the heights to mingle with the people she is "one of." She is adored by them, put on a pedestal, but never really on their level, except when she chooses to drop in. The idea of a bubble, something that is ephemeral and reflective. Therefore, like many ideologies of government, it reflects what is around it, even though it is not really the composition of the object. In addition, it will soon burst and disappear, only to be replaced by the next optically pleasing illusion.

Although Baum's book can be looked at as a classic struggle of good vs evil, the political ramifications assessed by adults. Obviously, as supported by Marx, in order to understand the literature more fully, one most understand the political influences that were in place or in flux at the time of writing the work.

Mid-Term

Catherine Foley
Dr. Wexler
English 638
13 March 2010

Foucault and Faulkner’s Gaze: The Power of Observation

The main theme of William Faulkner’s novel Sanctuary is that as much as one may seek a safe refuge, such an opportunity does not really exist. Whether searching for a physical, intellectual, psychological, or spiritual retreat, the expectation will only be met with disappointment. However, within the story and related to the theme, an obvious motif emerges: voyeurism. The motivations for this action are different: sometimes salacious, sometimes curious, sometimes accidental, but there is an emblematic and recurring power that Faulkner gives to the observer. The power that is granted to the voyeur parallels Michel Foucault’s theory in Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison, only with a twist. Faulkner writes his novel with intentional gaps in plot, character development, and conclusion. Therefore, he makes the reader a detective, an observer who must carefully watch for clues in an attempt to construct meaning. The reader is given access to information only through a third person limited narrator. Therefore, the reader obtains insight into every character and event, but never completely. Ultimately, the power of total understanding is retained by the author. Faulkner himself becomes the observer in Foucault’s glass tower: through his written word, he remains invisible yet omnipresent. In a relentless search for complete and accurate divination, the reader unknowingly becomes a participant in establishing Faulkner’s regime.
Included in his concept of humane punishment, Michel Foucault borrows from philosopher Jeremy Bentham in a section that is entitled “Panopticism.” Foucault theorizes that the power of the observer lies in the uncertainty of the observed. Since the observed is unable to return the gaze, he must make the assumption that the observer’s gaze is falling upon him at any particular moment in time. He becomes self-governing, and in this self-regulation, he becomes complicit in asserting the power of the observer. He is part of the machinery that enslaves him. Using this concept as a genesis, Laura Mulvey subscribes to the theory of an imbalance of power between the observer and the observed. She combines the idea with Freud’s concept of “scotophilia [or] taking other people as objects, subjecting them to a controlling and curious gaze“ (Hawthorn 510). She then examines the effect that gaze has in a world where gender determines the sexual power in relationships: the male is associated with the gaze that objectifies women, and women are conditioned to assume the role of the exhibitionist. This theory helps to explain choices that William Faulkner makes in Sanctuary.
Faulkner never hides the importance that observation plays. As the reader ingests the written text, characters and events are offered through vision: what others see, the image a mirror affords, or the word choices that Faulkner uses to characterize the type of looking being performed. In some way, every character is introduced by the concept of observation. The establishment of dominance through vision is set forth in the opening sentence of the novel. Faulkner begins with,” From beyond the screen of bushes which surrounded the spring, Popeye watched the main drinking” (Faulkner 3). Repetition of watching is repeated one sentence later, but power then transfers to the man (Horace Benbow), who sees both himself and his observer in a reflection. Because the medium is water, the gaze shifts from direct and clear, although screened, to overt, yet indirect, distorted, and fragmented. Popeye’s first description, although later augmented by the narrator, is presented through what the Benbow sees. Elements in his description seem strange: “His face had a queer bloodless color, as though seen by an electric light” (Faulkner 4). Obviously, the personification of the light shows the importance of watching, looking, and seeing throughout the novel. Faulkner illustrates the point that even when man feels alone, he is being observed by inanimate objects. The other oddity is the narrator’s description of Popeye (notice the second syllable of the name): his eyes are defined as “two knobs of soft black rubber” (Faulkner 4). The metaphor for the eyes removes the sense of humanity usually articulated through the description of the eyes. Strangely, they then sit face to face for two hours without speaking. The power play is almost like a game of who will blink first, as if these two strangers have an innate cognizance of a ritual of dominance, a tacit agreement of how power is determined. This is a glimpse of meaning that Faulkner repeatedly affords the reader throughout. However, there are always puzzle pieces that are missing.
Sanctuary is unlike most novels where the narrator is able to silently and unobtrusively impinge on the actions, thoughts, emotions, and desires of the characters. Faulkner provides the reader with images that are fragmented and sometimes distorted by the perception of reality that conflicts with the truth of the situation. There is an emphasis on mirror image to check on appearances. However, the reader is left to discern which is more accurate, the form or the image. The questions arises of whether the image in the mirror serves as a distorted illusion of reality, or is it a clearer image of the truth, uncomplicated by the distortions of the psyche. The mirror, like the novel, provides the medium by which the source is replicated, but never with an assurance of a complete image or the avoidance of distortion.
The reader seems to stumble forward with an air of uncertainty; events unfold that seem to confuse rather than demystify. In his essay “Corruption in Looking: William Faulkner's Sanctuary as a 'Detect’ve’ Novel," Andrew Wilson explores this concept as an intentional device that Faulkner sets into play by the gaps and prolonged delay of information. Wilson expands his analysis of the novel by stating that “ Faulkner reveals only by persistently veiling a part of what he uncovers. Rather, he provides glimpses, parts of the whole. He offers data as the typical eye sees, or `detects: sporadically, collecting mere bits of information about people, objects, events, all of which are seemingly chosen willy-nilly. Only occasionally does the typical human eye, in a typical moment, zoom in and thoroughly imbibe a person, thing, act in its entirety” (Wilson).
Certainly, Faulkner does exactly this. Everything seems to exist on the exterior. The reader is given a narrative that mainly is descriptive, offering little insight into the thoughts and emotions of the characters. The dialogue is stilted, incomplete, guarded, and intentionally vague. Answers do not seem to respond to the questions; characters have discussions in which there is implicit knowledge between them that is omitted from the text. The reader is repeatedly told that the characters are mainly engaged in the art of watching. Therefore, the other senses are dulled, and the vocabulary of the story is centered on words related to observation, such as “look”, “watch”, “gaze” and “eyes“. The old blind man, Lee Goodwin’s father, is portrayed as impotent because he is blind; again, vision becomes the privileged marker of sensory power. As Foucault suggests, the power is determined by the role that one plays, observer or observed. However, the in Foucault’s work, the determination of power stays in the hands of the observer as the observed becomes an unwitting part of the process. He imagines or surmises that he is being observed, even when he is not, and adjusts his behavior in accordance to the rules of conduct the observer demands.
In Sanctuary, the full revelation of a change in the regime of power unfolds slowly. The reader realizes that Popeye, Drake’s antagonist, is always an observer, rather than a true participant in life. In his sexual encounters, he is incapable of sexual performance, and observing is a necessity, not a choice or preference. Drake is a woman who is engaged in living and experiencing life, but she has become reduced to one who uses her powers of observation to serve her need for revenge. Faulkner subverts the traditional roles of gender identification. Popeye seems to have the power, but it is attained and maintained through surrogates, either other men or inanimate objects. Faulkner equates power with sex, and Drake, once the objectified, quickly gleans how to dominate. She becomes the one with real power, as she asserts her control over situations and men’s lives.
The events of the rape come to full light in the courtroom scene. However, what is more telling than the facts of the crime is Temple Drake herself, particularly the way the narrator chooses to describe her appearance and actions. He uses great detail, with images such as, “From beneath her black hat her hair escaped in tight red curls like clots of resin. The hat bore a rhinestone ornament. Upon her black satin lap lay a platinum bag. Her hands lay motionless, palm-up on her lap. …Her face was quite pale, the two spots of rouge like paper discs pasted on her cheek bones, her mouth painted into a savage and perfect bow” (Faulkner 284). Any detailed description of her eyes is missing; they are defined by what they do, not how they appear. The narrator states that “her gaze fixed on something at the back of the room” (Faulkner 284). The other participants in the room are described as having looks or glances, but Black is repeatedly detailed in terms of a gaze. The former objectified has become the objectifier. She is now the subject, the author of her destiny, she holds the power. She uses that power to have a man convicted of a crime he did not commit. She uses her power to have another man question his values, his worth, his motivations, and yet another comes to his eventual demise, drained of his power and his will to live. Except for her father, she emerges as the strongest of the men who thought they were in control of her. She loses her innocence, but she gains the cool, detached eye of the impartial observer, the gaze. Once again, Faulkner seems to subscribe to the theories of Foucault. In The History of Sexuality, Foucault questions the theories of Freud’s id and repression in the formation of sexuality and power. Foucault hypothesizes “that sexuality is ‘an especially dense transfer point for relations of power…Sexuality is not the most intractable element in power relations but one of those endowed with the greatest instrumentality’” (Purvis 434). Ironically, Drake’s power seems to be taken from her on the night of the rape. However, the ultimate outcome is that she gains power in her realization of the power that she holds over men. Both she and Popeye are described as small and thin, not the obvious candidates for an image of power. However, true power comes from the internal, not the external; the mental and psychological, not the physical. Like the glass tower, it is not the physical presence of the guard, but the sheer memory of the experience held by the prisoner that dominates.
The thematic message that Faulkner offers, a failure to find a safe place is applicable to complete resolution of the novel. Faulkner offers clues, but never enough to provide definitive answers. The author removes power from every character, since each story is related by a limited narrator. This competition for power is mirrored, as the author and reader jockey for the power of interpretation. The reader never feels completely secure that the impressions being formed are accurate or complete, yet he struggles to accomplish the impossible. The normal binaries are subverted, the traditional roles of man and women, good and evil, strong and weak take either lose meaning or take on new meanings. Therefore, the sanctuary of resolution is denied: complete power remains with the author; the reader is simply part of the mechanism that is set up for him, unable to return the gaze.

Bibliography

Dunleavy, Linda. "'Sanctuary, Sexual Difference, and the Problem of Rape." Studies in American

Fiction 24.2 (1996): 171+. Gale. 13 Mar. 2010.

Asserts the difference between power lies in a combination of gender and social class.

Defines the tropes that represent power in novels are related to masculinity in the guise of

phallic symbols. However, social constructs force men into different behavior with

women and dictates that women can never be unmasked, or they become undesirable.

Faulkner, William. Sanctuary. New York: Vintage, 1993.
Faulkner explores the modern anti-hero through this fictional novel. The story revolves around a central figure, Temple Black, but there is no clearly defined protagonist in the story. The plot has three narratives that all converge at one moment in time, with the lives of Horace Benbow and Lee Goodwin taking a new direction after their encounter with Black. The rape scene of Black forms a pivotal twist in the plot that serves to highlight the depravity of mankind, his impotence, the need for revenge, and the survival instinct, and the constantly shifting positions of power.
Hawthorn, Jeremy. “Theories of the Gaze”. Literary Theory and Criticism. Ed. Patricia Waugh. New York: Oxford, 2006.
Presents a clearly defined selection of essays and synopsis of books relating to the recognition of the importance of observation. References the schools and works of theory that relate to this modern approach with extension occurring in feminist, narrative, and post-colonial theories. Asserts the importance of the gaze in life, written text, and cinema.
Watkins, Floyd C. “Through the Glass Darkly.” The Sewanee Review 85.3 (1977): 484-493.

JStor 13 March 2010.

Warns of the danger of the both unsophisticated reader and the theorist misinterpreting the works of Faulkner because of their lack of knowledge and expertise in a crucial arena.
Asserts that theorists have an ulterior motivation to make a name for themselves by espousing their personal agenda for self-aggrandizement.
Purvis, Tony. “Sexualities.” ”. Literary Theory and Criticism. Ed. Patricia Waugh. New York: Oxford, 2006.
Covers a range of topics that deal with sexuality and relates these to relevant theories.
Discusses gender identity, social constructs, queer theory, and sexual nature. Uses ideas
formulated from Freud and Foucault to Sedgwick and Butler.
Wilson, Andrew J. "The corruption in looking: William Faulkner's 'Sanctuary' as a 'Detect'ive Novel." The Mississippi Quarterly 47.3 (1994): 441+. Gale. 13 March 2010.
An examination of the elements of voyeurism in Faulkner's Sanctuary. Implies the voyeuristic tendencies people practice isolate them, since observation is a solitary act. Man is removed from touch; therefore, there is a distancing from flesh, both sexually and socially.

Dickens says it all

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way - in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.


It appears as though Charles Dickens may have had insight into the future of literary theory when he sat down to pen The Tale of Two Cities. First of all, there is the address to the binaries of life, which thanks to the ideas of Derrida have now split into quadnaries, then octonaries, then decatetranaries..... Please do not bother to reach for that dictionary; I decided to make up my own terms in order to address the massive division process that correlate to the destabalization process.
Then, on to Foucault, where he demonstrates how the pretense of the establishment or restoration of order can easily be abusive power under the guise of protection. Dickens once again comes to the rescue, just a little farther down the page, in his description of France: "Under the guidance of her Christian pastors, she entertained herself, besides, with such humane achievements as sentencing a youth to have his hands cut off, his tongue torn out with pincers, and his body burned alive, because he had not kneeled down in the rain to do honour to a dirty procession of monks which passed within his view, at a distance of some fifty or sixty yards." This idea of power that separates, confines, marks, alters, and all in the name of a well ordered society is an emblematic theme that is pervasive in the arts. The image that immediately comes to mind is any science fiction that labels the alien, or the other, as unfit to cohabit with man. The recent movie District 9 is the perfect example. However, other movies and books are just as relevant. The movie Snake Pit or One Flew Over the Cuckoo's as Nest with the abuses in the mental institutions, the proliferation of novels and movies that dedicate themselves to prison reform, such as The Green Mile, are all predicated upon Foucalt's thesis. There is also the point of those in power seeing only binaries. However, there are so many degrees that lie between the polar opposites, that reality discredits the simplicity of a binary system that is as simplistic as good/bad, man/woman, light dark. Below is a clip from 1984, which seems to clearly exemplify the ideas in "Discipline and Punishment" with the elements of the Panopticon, isolation, punishment, and the mindless acceptance of the state's offer of "beneficial" remediation.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z4rBDUJTnNU

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xAl8sL-_E1k

As I read "The Mirror Stage" by Lacan, his tone seemed instructional, informational, a defining of his theory that was presented with supportive evidence. However, suddenly I felt as though the tone changed when Lucan got to his mention of existentialism. Of course, one of the prime examples of existentialism in literature is The Stranger by Camus. It had been many years since I had read the book, and yet as I read Lucan's description of "freedom that is never more authentic than when it is within the walls of a prison; ...the impotence of a pure consciousness to master any situation; a voyeuristic-sadistic idealization of the sexual relation; ...a consciousness of the other that can be satisfied only by Hegelian murder," I was immediately reminded of the book. I sensed an antagonistic attitude in Lacan's tone that was contrary to the neutral voice that had narrated the text (445). Since Camus is a Twentieth Century artist, I went to Youtube.com in hopes that there might be some insight. There was a clip from the film, of which I was not aware, but it did not really capture the mood that was most relevant to Lacan's thesis. I thought that this video clip was an interview with Camus, but it was not. However, I did find it interesting to see how the generations reacted so differently to the work.
After reading. the opening of "The Instance of the Letter in the Unconscious or Reason since Freud" I better understand why Lacan was so hostile to the views Camus expressed in his book. The themes that Camus puts forth are opposed to the theories Lacan states as certainties. Camus paints his protagonist, Meursault, as having no feelings about the loss of his mother, no interest in seeking an object of desire as a way of restoring what was lost, no motivations, no reaction, except those that are considered atypical. Yet, Camus paints his hero as the Muse of the modern world. Certainly, this lack of self awareness, the refusal to have hopes, dreams, or emotional attachment to anything violates the concept of being driven by any unconscious desires. This accounts for the feelings of animosity that emerge as a challenge to the popularity of Camus' work.

Eagleton - An interruption with commentary

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IGBjSPz

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EjRaU8hRVJs

It is difficult to read Eagleton and be introduced to theories that are new to me and try to assimilate their meaning and the author's intent while simultaneously trying to avoid the biases contained in the commentary by Eagleton. Although the original texts may be dense, they are more pure. This example above shows how the original intent of the screenwriter, or at least the studio, can be subverted by presenting highlighted sections out of context. Without words, the first clip presents the author's message, to suggest that Joan Crawford is a victim. Of course, I am giving my interpretation to the script, but the author's intent seems to be clear. If you view the entire movie, which I am representing by the second clip there is a different mood, a different impression, and a different message that comes through. By having Eagleton introduce a theory, only to overlay his ideas of the shortcomings of the theory does not give me the opportunity to ingest the material and make my own assertions. I am sure, however, that I am shortchanging the graduate student by an implication that one cannot see that Eagleton is overlaying a Marxist philosophy onto his critique of early theorists.
Eagleton makes the point that Hirsch's attempt to safeguard the authorial intent of the text is parallel to the protection of material property. However, I argue that intellectual property has a meaning, a content, and a value of their own. As the reader searches to find meaning in the text, the reader has a choice: to discern what is the original intent of the author, as best as one can, or to establish what significance that piece of writing has for the reader. I am not sure that I am fully understanding what Eagleton is trying to say, but I am only offering my interpretation so far. I am only half-way through the reading; however, I have read this same selection as an undergraduate. The second time around, I am hoping that I come to the piece with more understanding. Eagleton also criticizes the idea of the meaning as a Platonic "ideal" which exists ina perfect state in the realm that exists before language. At this point in time, I think that I agree with Hesserl. The first video clip could be represented as the way that Joan Crawford would see the act of her mothering one of her adopted children. In her neurotic, or seemingly psychotic, break with reality, Crawford responds to her innate sense of mothering, most likely as this concept was imprinted on her. The second clip offers the same circumstances presented from the authorial ideal of the daughter. Here, the daughter offers her world mediated through the language of film. The emotions that are tied into the mother-daughter relationship in a dysfunctional family are clearly presented. It is difficult to see how changing social conditions would affect what the author's intention was.
I went searching for the clip of the "No more wire hangers!" scenes of the movie. At this point, I cannot even remember why, except that I felt it was reminiscent of the heavy-handed control that Eagleton offers up with his introductions to theory: No more transcendental philosophies! In the meantime, as I "surfed" the possible clips to use, I discovered an intentional misinterpretation of the original intent of the author. Does a fan of Joan Crawford have the right to offer the original intellectual property of the author as a statement that is in direct opposition to the original intent? I think not. Does a artist have the right to offer a distorted version as satire? Yes. The difference, I feel is in ignoring the author's intent and using the author's intent to make a point that is relevant.
I am sure that my opinions will change one hundred times over as I continue to read, but at this point, I feel that there are ideals and emotions that are intrinsic to the human condition. These exist apart from language, such as the fright or flight response. There are certain principles that exist without language. We can then interpret them by using language, but whatever words you use, the author has an intent that does exist in the fiber of his being, the framework of human existence, yes, the very soul of the individual that has a purity, an "ideal" if you will. Whatever significance this has for me is what I can choose to take away from the exposure to the text. (I guess that I am basically an Eiser reader response theory supporter.) If Shakespeare makes the point that overarching ambition can lead to the downfall of both the individual and the state, does it matter if I apply his meaning to Macbeth, Hitler, or Stalin?

Revisionist Blogging

I suppose that I am forced to revise my last blog, thanks to the intercession of Dina. While bemoaning my fate of still having to read the Bakhtin and Rabelais assignment, I bemoaned wading through the Norton Anthology version of Bakhtin's ideology on the novel. Dina asked me why I did not use the links provided, since they offered a much more clear and succinct analysis of his work than attempting to read the scope of his work presented in its entirety. As a graduate student, I should be able to wade through the seemingly endless repetitions and diversions that Bakhtin offers in his work to extricate the kernels of theory that are critical to a unified and complete understanding of the subject. However, perhaps it is this attitude that makes so many of the students respond with fear and dread to the required theory courses. It becomes the equivalent of my grandmother forcing me to take a heaping tablespoon cod liver oil as a child who looked "peaked" - it is so unpalatable going down, but it is so good for you.
However, after reading the links on his life, his world, and finally his theory I will admit that it was clear and painless. Ironically, the concept of carnival is timely, since we Mardi Gras is close at hand. The concept of carnival seems to do something else at this time: it situates our world with the period that is to come. For a period of 40 days, Lent, the mood is somber. However, the two times of celebration are like a pair of bookends that enclose this time period. There is the Mardi Gras, which is a recognition of the time to come, and Easter, which is a celebration that the time of deprivation and solemnity is over. It recognizes the needs of general populace in many ways. It also breaks down those barriers between individuals and classes to unify in laughter and celebration. So, I will recant my former impressions of Bakhtin and reluctantly admit to his relevance and importance in understanding the novel. Thank you,
Dina.

A Rivkin and Ryan Reprieve

After wading through Eagleton, the reading in the Literary Theory: An Anthology book was such a straightforward pleasure to read. However, this respite was short-lived when the venture into the Bakhtin section of the Norton Anthology of Theory and Criticism. Thirty pages on "Discourse in the Novel" seems to be about twenty-five pages too long. The topic gets diminished by the generalities and meanderings of logic. Each sentence feels excruciatingly convoluted and biased. Bakhtin is not content with conducting a dissection of the language in prose, but he feels the need to repeatedly contrast the merits of a novel to the dubious distinction of privileging poetry. For some strange reason, I wanted to see a picture of the man who had stolen so many hours of my time while I laboriously attempted to assimilate the main principles of his theory. This is the first picture I could find, and I recognized the mirror image of myself reflected in his eyes and mouth. I realize that the expressionless eyes and downturned mouth could only have come from Bakhtin reading his own work. The words have the same effect on me, as I slip into comatose state each time I turn the page and realize that there are at least two more pages of text to decipher. I feel that I have drunk from the river Lethe; all traces of a former life have been washed away as I slip into a catatonic state brought on by the closing down of any synapses that can retain what Bakhtin has to offer.
I do realize that this is not the formal tone that I had been searching for, but the realization that, while not writing a novel, Bakhtin is writing in prose makes my soul cry out for a piece of poetry. I beg for writing with a centripetal force guaranteed to suck me into a vortex of unity.

Eagleton

I had read these same chapters for undergrad theory. I thought that it might seem familiar, but since this is a new update of the book, either a lot has changed or I remember nothing. There are a lot of interesting points made about how literature evolved, but there was a poignant sadness that settled over me when I read how literature was used to control and pacify the masses. Instead of using literature as an inspiration, Matthew Arnold and the like chose to exploit English literature as a source of vicarious experiences meant to replace the need for first hand experiences. It was meant to anaesthetise rather than stimulate.
Two of the statements made by Eagleton seem seem to sum up "Introduction: What is Literature" and "The Rise of English". The first is the observation that even that which appears on the surface to be objective is actually subjective. The second statement is that politics are at the core of much of literary history and criticism. Underneath this second statement is the implication that those who determine the literary canon or the latest form of accepted critical analysis are self-serving. Somehow, in my naivete, I had missed this point. I had felt that there was a removal of the self in an attempt to make literature more understandable and accessible to others. Instead, there is one wave of accepted forms of criticism and authors that seems so contrived and such a construct that all credibility to the craft seems compromised. When it suited their purposes, it seems as though the leaders of movements in the literary field were able to selectively ignore the obvious when it went against their personal agendas. According to Eagleton, many of the pioneers in literary criticism had less of the ideal and more of the pragmatic frame of mind in their motivations. Somehow I feel manipulated by Eagleton's agenda, since I have felt like other books on literary criticism have been much more objective than his presentation. Although they may be cut and dried in comparison, somehow they seem more palatable.

Introduction - Classical Criticism

The introduction to Classical Literary Criticism by Penelope Murray published by Penguin gives a relevant explanation of the nature and continued importance of Plato's arguments. She situates his philosophies both in terms of how Greek attitudes help to shape his ideas and how his theses are carried forth or argued against in subsequent arguments. She uses Homer as a unifying theme to illustrate "the affective power of poetry" (xv). She also makes it clear that rather than the ideology expressed in the Republic being a contradiction or refutation of Ion, it is an extension or natural progression of the central argument. However, what does seem contradictory, or at least ironic, is the reference to Ion as a "real Proteus," thus indicating that he changes shape. In the Republic 2, Plato then raises the idea that gods would never change shape, and that the youth should be protected from such an idea. He follows it up with the admonition that "Nor must anyone tell false tales against Proteus."
Although the idea of divine inspiration seems to be a flattering proposal, Plato was concerned with reason as the controlling force of mankind as well as what is best for society as a whole. As he applies his trickle down theory of the rings to the audience, he realizes that there is a submission to emotions rather than reason; Plato evaluates this as "psychologically damaging." Thus, the reader is prepared to look at the continuity in the arguments of Plato and to understand the viewpoint expressed by Aristotle as well. Aristotle offers a different analysis of this same kind of audience response, but he comes to the conclusion that this catharsis is a positive release of emotions. Longinus also contradicts Plato's theory of the shadow cast on the mimetic process. Longinus states that mimesis can be a positive process , since the sublime can be attained by the imitation of those who have already accomplished success. Aristotle also took exception to Plato's condemnation of the mimesis in poetry. Aristotle uses tragedy as a model that art does not necessarily recreate or offer to perfectly replicate what has happened, but rather poses the possibility of what may have been the situation.
The impact that Plato has had on the world of criticism, however, does not end in historical analysis. Murray extrapolates the influence to the modern day, with a comparison of those who want to censor the contemporary media. She cites the fact that video games are part of the new poetry/prose genre that comes under scrutiny as fodder to contaminate the youth of today. In their quest to protect young minds from influences that could potentially subvert the good of society, there are some who would like "protection" offered by the government.