Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Crying of Lot 49

This was by far the weirdest book I've read all year. It seems sort of like a mix between a warped mystery and a satire of just about everything in the sixties. The weird thing about it is that it reminds me of a mystery because you see Oedipa figure out all these clues and try to piece them together like bits of evidence in a mystery novel, but it never really leads to any conclusion. It's a mystery without suspense because it's put together in such a manner as to make the reader feel as insane as Oedipa does instead of building up to a grand finale. The language and pop-culture allusions mixed with satirical images of subcultures makes it hard to take seriously, which is probably why it feels differently than a mystery novel even though the entire plot is driven by piecing together bits of evidence to try to arrive at some final conclusion. It is, however, a mystery in the sense that Pynchon never really tells the reader whether Oedipa is really onto something with the Tristero and Lot 49 or if it's all in her head. He makes it ambiguous so the reader is just as confused as she is. Oedipa's paranoia mirrors the paranoia of the Cold War era and makes fun of it, bringing up the question of whether the paranoia was due to real threats or just in the minds of Americans. Oedipa shows how easy it is to put pieces together to try to come up with some way to make sense of it all, whether there's meaning behind it or not. I think Pynchon purposefully leaves the "mystery" unsolved to maybe get people thinking about the issue while at the same time pointing out who ridiculous things are.

Friday, April 20, 2007

Crying of Lot 49: Chapter 1

So far the thing that most stands out to me is how tragically insane Oedipa's life is. She doesn't seem to have any strong connection with any of the characters outlined so far except Pierce, who is now dead. Her husband seems to be a typical male drama queen who will find any excuse for a moral vendetta at whatever job he has. While dishonesty may have marked his job at the lot, the fact that he no longer works there should count for something, but it doesn't seem to. It seems he's overreacting because on page 6 Oedipa reflects on the idea that maybe if he'd gone through a horrific war he'd get over the post traumatic stress sooner than he would having worked at the car lot. This seems a bit extreme. Even at his radio station job he takes out a vendetta against the censorship of his calls with his listeners. When Oedipa shows him the letter about Pierce's will and asks his advice, he dismisses it and says it's not his expertise. To me so far he seems a bit self-involved and over dramatic, providing hardly the emotional support that Oedipa seems to need. Another weird character is Roseman, the lawyer. At their business lunch, he tries to play footsie with Oedipa. This is particularly unprofessional and offensive because he knows she is married to Mucho. Even Oedipa's therapist seems shady, as he calls her at 3am to try to persuade her once again to participate in a study about LSD. Oedipa is surrounded by dysfunctional men who can't seem to "rescue" her from the tower she imagines herself locked in. She does paint Pierce as her knight in shining armor, but that is of little use now because he is dead. There is a sense of helpless resiliency in Oedipa and it will be interesting to see where it develops.

Friday, April 13, 2007

There Was a Queen

The thing that most stuck out to me in this story was how Faulkner depicted the death of the old Southern culture. Jenny, in her old age, represented the honor and pride of the old South while Narcissa represented the new, degraded state of the South after the Civil War. The fact that a Yankee took advantage of Narcissa over the letters that he had shows how the South was defeated and degraded by the North, at least in a cultural sense after all the carpetbaggers came down after the war. However, it's Narcissa's own foolishness in keeping the letters and her lack of honor for doing so that allows the Yankee to do so in the first place, showing that the degredation of Southern culture was rooted in the South itself and the abandonment of old values. Narcissa doesn't listen to Jenny's wisdom and she suffers for it. Jenny's feeble old age and lack of ability to walk on her own shows the weakness that the old South had in this new age. The most potent imagery is when Jenny fades away at the end in the dark, representing the dying of the old values of the South as Narcissa admits to what she's done. Jenny even puts on her old bonnet, sort of like a crown as she stands indignant against the fading of the old ways.

Friday, March 30, 2007

The Passing of Grandison

The thing that most stuck out to me in this story is how deluded and hypocritical Dick and his father are in reference to the slaves. The father sees slavery as a beautiful relationship of trust and dependence, but seems ignorant of the violence and horror of slavery, like in the case of the abused runaway slave in the beginning of the novel. Dick seems to be the ultimate hypocrite - he seems to agree with Charity that such treatment of people is wrong, but doesn't really show this attitude towards his slaves. He only attempts to free one of the slaves to impress Charity and doesn't have any real goodwill towards them. This is most evident in his treatment of Grandison. Throughout the whole trip up north he tries to get rid of Grandison thinking that he's doing such a good deed by giving him his freedom. Dick never takes into account that Grandison has a family in Kentucky that without whom his freedom wouldn't really mean much. If Dick really wanted to do something good for Grandison he'd try to free his family as well. As for Grandison, he's the perfect actor throughout the whole story. While reading it I actually got to a point where I thought he might be sincere in his despise for abolitionists. The fact that he played his "masters" so well and that his masters were such selfish hypocrites makes the ending, when Grandison and his whole family escape to Canada, all the more enjoyable. Not only do they get their freedom, they shatter the colonel's delusions of justified slavery.

Thursday, March 22, 2007

Twain and the N Word

Although Mark Twain is one of my favorite American authors, it's difficult for me to read The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn without being a little offended. Today's society recognizes that the n word is extremely racist and, having been brought up the way I was, it's always a little shocking to see it in things that were printed in the past. Although Twain was probably just a product of his environment and meant no serious racist offense by his frequent use of the word in his writing, I think that for his purposes at the time it may have served to help his audience identify with his writing. Twain wrote the novel during the reconstruction at a period where racism against African Americans was frequent, and so was the use of the n word. In writing the same way that many of his readers talked, Twain was able to facilitate the acceptance of his book. This is important since it is full of critique of American society. Jim's character is particularly lovable in the novel and as it progresses the reader more easily identifies with him. In the beginning, as mentioned in class on Wednesday, Jim seems to be stereotypically uneducated and superstitious. As the novel progresses, however, many more layers to Jim's character show up as he clearly becomes one of America's most admirable fictional heroes. I think this is a clever way for Twain to trick his readers. In the beginning they think he's catering to their prejudiced views about African Americans, but then he slowly contradicts them. While extremely offensive, the n word's prominence in the novel helped its popularity in a racist society. It exposed prejudiced people to a character who defied their stereotypes. While I'm not saying Twain's novel had a huge impact on making the reconstruction and reconciliation between the races any easier, the use of the n word did increase the chances of his political and social critiques being seen by the society he wished to change.

Friday, March 9, 2007

Dickinson

The main thing I've noticed that Emily Dickinson's poems have in common with each other is an anti-war sentiment. "The name -- of it -- is Autumn" paints a gruesome image of the normally beautiful colors of autumn transformed into blood red everything. War is everywhere in this poem, and the blood is inescapable. Both "I like a look of Agony" and "After great pain, a formal feeling comes" convey emotional scars from the war. It's strange to hear someone say that they like seeing people in agony and corpses, but Dickinson says so because she "know[s] it's true" (line 2). This poem reveals her jaded and pessimistic outlook on life that the war has wrought on her. She only trusts the suffering and dead. This attitude is also expressed in "After great pain, a formal feeling comes." This poem describes how the war robs people of their emotions and turns them into jaded pieces of stone. They stop feeling and take on a formal attitude all the time. In both poems the characters seem to be characterized by unnatural feelings - whether they seek refuge in the sight of a corpse or don't feel anything at all. All these poems depict the negative effects of war, both physical, as in "The name -- of it -- is Autumn" and psychological, as in the other two. While Dickinson does not name the war directly in any of them, or give particular indicators that she speaks of the Civil War, there are clues in the text. Coupled with the fact that they were written around the time of the Civil War, it is safe to conclude that this was the "great pain" she was talking about.

Tuesday, March 6, 2007

Whitman Response Post

I disagree with Jennifer's view that Neely was correct in his assumption that Whitman viewed the Civil War as an "advance of the Union cause." I think that if anything, "Beat! Beat! Drums!" is an anti-war poem because it shows how war divides society and has negative effects on the nation. He can't support the quest for a unified United States if he views the methods for achieving union as divisive and destructive. He describes the drums as "terrible" and "loud" and portrays the call for war as insensitive to the needs and sentiments of the people. I do agree, however, when Jennifer later argues that Whitman viewed the war as unnecessary. Whitman's critical portrayal of the drums as ruthless and violent forces with little regard for the citizens at risk suggests that he at least disagreed with the attitudes of the pro-war population, if not with the war in general. There is no citation of a motive for war anywhere in the poem. If Whitman had been pro-war at all, it seems as if he would have tried to justify the severity of the drums' insensitive call to arms with some greater purpose that might be served by the sacrifice of the bridegroom, farmer or lawyer. Since Whitman chooses not to validate the call to arms, it is safe to suppose that he didn't see it as justified.