It seems like everyone else in the world, my younger brother included, has read A Wrinkle in Time at one point or another, likely in elementary school. Almost everyone I talk to has either fond childhood memories of this great adventure story or memories of the frustration and boredom often experienced by children reading a "big" book for the first time. In this sense I feel like I may have had an advantage in that I had never heard of the novel before signing up for this course. Being unbiased by childhood opinions (whether they be good or bad) likely helped me to view the characters and references in the novel from a more adult perspective, rather than being influenced by nostalgia.
I found it interesting that, as we discussed in class, this book was banned by various Christian schools for opposing Christian values. While I definitely did note the religious undertones when I read the book for the first time, I never noted anything directly offensive to such values in the text. At first, I just assumed that the novel was written by a Christian author at a time when the religion was the norm and any deviation from Christian faith was seen as abnormal. I thought that the time and context in which it was written was likely one in which references to God in mainstream media were common and generally unquestioned.
However, as we began to discuss that various arguments about whether or not the text should be viewed as pro-Christian, I began to notice details that made me feel otherwise. The one thing that stood out to me the most in this novel (or made my scientific mind want to cry out "THIS CAN NOT BE PLAUSIBLE!") is the fact that every life form on every planet seems to believe in the same God. Although the various inhabitants of different worlds look, act and live completely differently, God is mentioned by several characters (most notably the three witches) in the most casual way. The existence and worship of one specific god by all inhabitants of all worlds is presented as an unquestioned truth, and no one is even surprised by it. I found this odd, as the main characters repeatedly question the methods and plausibility of time travel (for which physics can provide a rational explanation), but none ever note or question how the same deity has seemingly presented himself on all worlds.
Though this could be seen as a demonstration of the novel's pro-Christian themes, I felt that it might be important in relation to the "darkness" that takes over Camazots and threatens Earth. Someone said in class on Thursday that the residents of Camazots could be seen as a metaphor for the lack of individuality and freedom faced by a Godless society. When I first read this, I however felt differently. It seemed to me that Camazots and its inhabitants could be a metaphor for the consequences of blind trust in organized religion. The people of the planet resign themselves to a life where they take no responsibility for their actions, make no decisions, and rely on one central, immortal intelligent being to make their decisions and map out the course of their life. IT is the source of all information, guidance and power. This could easily be compared to the way some members of organized religious groups fail to take responsibility for their own actions because of a belief that every action and outcome in their lives are a product of fate rather than free will.
I can see how, when looking at the unquestioning acceptance of God by all major characters in the book, juxtaposed with the fact that they are being threatened by a being which intends to remove their free will, the novel can be interpreted as having an anti-Christian theme. However, it still seems somewhat ridiculous to me that it was banned by so many schools. Even if a school has a strict policy against literature that is deemed offensive to Christian values, A Wrinkle in Time does not even have an outright or definite anti-Christian theme. I can't help but wonder how many elementary students would even pick up on the questionable metaphors that the adults argue so much about.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Monday, June 14, 2010
Oh baby, baby, never let me go..
"...I half-closed my eyes and imagined this was the spot where everything I'd ever lost since my childhood had washed up, and I was now standing here in front of it, and if I waited long enough, a tiny figure would appear on the horizon across the field, and gradually get larger until I'd see it was Tommy, and he'd wave, maybe even call." (pg. 263)
I don't even know what to say. This book may as well have torn my heart out and stomped on it. It's been a long time since I've read something as powerfully sad as the last page of Never Let Me Go, and it's left me feeling rather empty. I can still hardly hold back tears as I think of Kathy staring out into a dirty field, combining her childhood fantasy of finding her precious lost things with a very adult longing for her lost love. I think it's the striking contrast between the childhood innocence and the harsh truth of reality in this scene that moved me so deeply.
Contrast seems to be used quite a bit in this novel to make certain themes more powerful. The highly polarized behavior of various characters, not to mention the way in which the writing style itself contradicts some of the dehumanizing content, only makes the emotional lines more hard-hitting.
For instance, the empathy and compassion shown by Madame when she sees Kathy dancing in the dorm draws attention to both the cruel nature of the lives clones are exposed to as well as the intimately human emotions they experience. And although Madame is revealed to be one of the clones' greatest allies in the battle for their rights, she is also portrayed as having an innate fear or disgust of the clones. I found Madame to be an interesting character in general because she plays a central role in both the dehumanization of and empathy for the clones.
I almost felt as though the clones, or "freaks" in this in this novel were even further dehumanized than those in Nights at the Circus or Geek Love. What bothered me the most was the way that death is referred to as "completion". This word alone draws attention to the fact that the clones live with only one purpose; all human emotion and experience is simply an aside to their ultimate use as a tool to save the life of another. At no point in their lives, not even in death, are they seen by the outside world as having any value as an individual. This takes the idea of a "freak" not being human one step further than in either of the other novels we covered in class. To me, this context of dehumanization and human life as a commodity was what made Kathy and Tommy's love so powerful to read about.
"And so we stood together like that, at the top of that field, for what seemed like ages, not saying anything, just holding each other, while the wind kept blowing and blowing at us, tugging our clothes, and for a moment, it seemed like we were holding onto each other because that was the only way to stop us being swept away into the night." (pg. 251)
This was another scene that deeply moved me. It draws attention to the unfair and heartbreaking circumstances of the lives from which they have no escape. It also serves as a contrast the dehumanization of the clones by demonstrating their capacity to experience the most powerful human emotions. In doing that, the author shows that not only are these characters fully human, but they are not at all different from those in the outside world.
Though in a theoretical sense this novel is very different from Geek Love or Nights at the Circus, I found that I enjoyed it more. Though I have felt that every book we've covered has a central theme of what it is to be human, in my opinion this is the best example. This book and these characters will stay with me for a very long time.
I don't even know what to say. This book may as well have torn my heart out and stomped on it. It's been a long time since I've read something as powerfully sad as the last page of Never Let Me Go, and it's left me feeling rather empty. I can still hardly hold back tears as I think of Kathy staring out into a dirty field, combining her childhood fantasy of finding her precious lost things with a very adult longing for her lost love. I think it's the striking contrast between the childhood innocence and the harsh truth of reality in this scene that moved me so deeply.
Contrast seems to be used quite a bit in this novel to make certain themes more powerful. The highly polarized behavior of various characters, not to mention the way in which the writing style itself contradicts some of the dehumanizing content, only makes the emotional lines more hard-hitting.
For instance, the empathy and compassion shown by Madame when she sees Kathy dancing in the dorm draws attention to both the cruel nature of the lives clones are exposed to as well as the intimately human emotions they experience. And although Madame is revealed to be one of the clones' greatest allies in the battle for their rights, she is also portrayed as having an innate fear or disgust of the clones. I found Madame to be an interesting character in general because she plays a central role in both the dehumanization of and empathy for the clones.
I almost felt as though the clones, or "freaks" in this in this novel were even further dehumanized than those in Nights at the Circus or Geek Love. What bothered me the most was the way that death is referred to as "completion". This word alone draws attention to the fact that the clones live with only one purpose; all human emotion and experience is simply an aside to their ultimate use as a tool to save the life of another. At no point in their lives, not even in death, are they seen by the outside world as having any value as an individual. This takes the idea of a "freak" not being human one step further than in either of the other novels we covered in class. To me, this context of dehumanization and human life as a commodity was what made Kathy and Tommy's love so powerful to read about.
"And so we stood together like that, at the top of that field, for what seemed like ages, not saying anything, just holding each other, while the wind kept blowing and blowing at us, tugging our clothes, and for a moment, it seemed like we were holding onto each other because that was the only way to stop us being swept away into the night." (pg. 251)
This was another scene that deeply moved me. It draws attention to the unfair and heartbreaking circumstances of the lives from which they have no escape. It also serves as a contrast the dehumanization of the clones by demonstrating their capacity to experience the most powerful human emotions. In doing that, the author shows that not only are these characters fully human, but they are not at all different from those in the outside world.
Though in a theoretical sense this novel is very different from Geek Love or Nights at the Circus, I found that I enjoyed it more. Though I have felt that every book we've covered has a central theme of what it is to be human, in my opinion this is the best example. This book and these characters will stay with me for a very long time.
Monday, June 7, 2010
Freaks?
While I probably would have had a lot more to say (not to mention a bit more confidence in my opinions and some more coherent thoughts) about Tod Browning's Freaks tomorrow, the article by Joan Hawkins gave me some things to think about. While I have yet to see the film, the general feeling I get from the retelling of the story and the discussion of its central themes is that of confusion.
Parts of this story seem to relate to and reinforce many of the themes discussed in class to date. For instance, the way in which Cleo is portrayed as behaving in an insensitive and inappropriate way towards Hans (in that she mocks his size by openly treating him in an infantile manner) draws attention to the fact that a physical deformity does not in itself constitute "freakishness". To me this echoes the views of Oly in Geek Love that "a true freak is not created. A true freak must be born". By drawing audience sympathy to the mistreatment of the freaks in the circus, the intention seems to be a reminder that freaks, as well as those who are physically normal, are all human.
I was confused, however, by the way in which the revenge of the freaks on Cleo is described. If the horrible mutilation of a woman of ultimate beauty is meant to cast the freaks as monsters (as seems to be the intention and the way of establishing Freaks as a horror movie), audience sympathy switches sides. If suddenly the freaks are portrayed as not merely physically affected but also mentally deranged, does this not confound the original intention of the film to draw attention to the mistreatment of those marginalized by society?
As I said, I will probably have a much better idea of my own opinions on this film after seeing it tomorrow. For now, however, I'm somewhat confused by the description of the plot. Every story needs some kind of conflict to drive the plot to resolution, but who is the bad guy here? Perhaps this film was meant to draw different reactions from different people. Maybe one's reaction (as well as where one's sympathy lies while viewing the film) says something about the individual watching and interpreting it.
Either way, from what I've read, I can't decide whether Browning tries to emphasize that all people, even freaks, are inherently human and have the same tendencies (such as Hans' love for Cleo, or the ultimate enforcement of patriarchal values by the freaks), or another, perhaps darker assertion that even outwardly "normal" people have freakish and violent tendencies underneath their pretensions (such as the murderous plan of Cleo driven by her greed). I look forward to resolving some of my own questions in class.
Parts of this story seem to relate to and reinforce many of the themes discussed in class to date. For instance, the way in which Cleo is portrayed as behaving in an insensitive and inappropriate way towards Hans (in that she mocks his size by openly treating him in an infantile manner) draws attention to the fact that a physical deformity does not in itself constitute "freakishness". To me this echoes the views of Oly in Geek Love that "a true freak is not created. A true freak must be born". By drawing audience sympathy to the mistreatment of the freaks in the circus, the intention seems to be a reminder that freaks, as well as those who are physically normal, are all human.
I was confused, however, by the way in which the revenge of the freaks on Cleo is described. If the horrible mutilation of a woman of ultimate beauty is meant to cast the freaks as monsters (as seems to be the intention and the way of establishing Freaks as a horror movie), audience sympathy switches sides. If suddenly the freaks are portrayed as not merely physically affected but also mentally deranged, does this not confound the original intention of the film to draw attention to the mistreatment of those marginalized by society?
As I said, I will probably have a much better idea of my own opinions on this film after seeing it tomorrow. For now, however, I'm somewhat confused by the description of the plot. Every story needs some kind of conflict to drive the plot to resolution, but who is the bad guy here? Perhaps this film was meant to draw different reactions from different people. Maybe one's reaction (as well as where one's sympathy lies while viewing the film) says something about the individual watching and interpreting it.
Either way, from what I've read, I can't decide whether Browning tries to emphasize that all people, even freaks, are inherently human and have the same tendencies (such as Hans' love for Cleo, or the ultimate enforcement of patriarchal values by the freaks), or another, perhaps darker assertion that even outwardly "normal" people have freakish and violent tendencies underneath their pretensions (such as the murderous plan of Cleo driven by her greed). I look forward to resolving some of my own questions in class.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Thoughts on the Circus
Nights at the Circus was an interesting book that I'm still struggling to form an opinion on. As with Geek Love, the first section of this book took me a very long time to get through because I had a difficult time relating to many of the characters. I found Fevvers herself especially difficult to sum up, with her generally pompous attitude and seemingly oblivious nature when it came to assessing dangerous situations or learning from experience. The text jumps back and forth between different times and places, as well as the background stories of several different characters. This, along with Carter's extremely large (and at times obscure) vocabulary was something I found frustrating at times, being an average reader used to stories driven by plot rather than theory.
As I read on, however, I began to realize that the purpose behind this text is not one that could be understood by means of plot alone. I also slowly realized that a character's actions do not have to be the defining feature by which we relate a text to personal experience and thus share in the emotional journey of that character. I find that it is often the deeper experiences of pain and the building (or collapsing) of self-worth expressed by these characters that reminds us of their, as well as our own, humanity. There are a few things, such as love and acceptance, that we all ultimately spend our lives seeking. Some are relatively successful at fulfilling these deep personal needs, while others (several of the characters discussed in class, for instance) face unfortunate circumstances and ultimately crumble while searching for that person or place to provide a sense of fulfillment.
One thing that struck me about this book was the theme of incredible sadness expressed throughout the text in relation to the life and personal history of almost every character. Although Nights at the Circus is widely seen in a political or feminist sense, perhaps personal life experience was what drove me to think of some of the characters in Geek Love when reading some of the highly painful and life-altering moments experienced by characters in the story.
The clowns in particular both disturbed me and broke my heart. I felt both horrified and deeply saddened by the recollection of Buffo's humiliation on the most tragic day of his life. To me the clowns represent a theme of hiding from personal sorrow. I was both intrigued and upset by the poetic idea of hiding from one's personal agony by transforming oneself into something completely different (as done by the clowns when choosing a "new" face). Such a transformation draws attention to the disguise, or ultimately what the individual is not; and in this way he or she is able to divert attention from that which is undeniable. Throughout the time I read about Buffo's slow collapse and ultimate disconnection from reality I couldn't help but think of the members of the Arturan cult in Geek love. These people seem to experience much of the same desire to escape from their personal Hell (whatever that may be to each individual) by undertaking a personal transformation that will make them a freak in a more salient way- as if turning oneself into a physical "freak" will draw both personal and outside attention away from the "freakishness" within. Both of these instances left me pondering the depths of loneliness, and just how far the average person would be able to go in such a direction under the worst of circumstances. Buffo's ultimate mental breakdown also felt eerily similar to that of Crystal Lil, as both were unable to handle the destruction of their family and the grief created by having their worlds crumble around them.
Nights at the Circus is widely discussed as being an important literary contribution in the categories of both postfeminist and magic realism. Though I do not disagree with this in any way, I found that there were several other layers of underlying themes that make Angela Carter's text such an interesting read. These characters hit home in a very human way, whether the reader is male, female, old, young, feminist or otherwise. Though I do not have room to discuss every thought that has crossed my mind regarding this book, I will say that it was a worthwhile read- regardless of my complaints about my own limited vocabulary as compared to that of the author.
As I read on, however, I began to realize that the purpose behind this text is not one that could be understood by means of plot alone. I also slowly realized that a character's actions do not have to be the defining feature by which we relate a text to personal experience and thus share in the emotional journey of that character. I find that it is often the deeper experiences of pain and the building (or collapsing) of self-worth expressed by these characters that reminds us of their, as well as our own, humanity. There are a few things, such as love and acceptance, that we all ultimately spend our lives seeking. Some are relatively successful at fulfilling these deep personal needs, while others (several of the characters discussed in class, for instance) face unfortunate circumstances and ultimately crumble while searching for that person or place to provide a sense of fulfillment.
One thing that struck me about this book was the theme of incredible sadness expressed throughout the text in relation to the life and personal history of almost every character. Although Nights at the Circus is widely seen in a political or feminist sense, perhaps personal life experience was what drove me to think of some of the characters in Geek Love when reading some of the highly painful and life-altering moments experienced by characters in the story.
The clowns in particular both disturbed me and broke my heart. I felt both horrified and deeply saddened by the recollection of Buffo's humiliation on the most tragic day of his life. To me the clowns represent a theme of hiding from personal sorrow. I was both intrigued and upset by the poetic idea of hiding from one's personal agony by transforming oneself into something completely different (as done by the clowns when choosing a "new" face). Such a transformation draws attention to the disguise, or ultimately what the individual is not; and in this way he or she is able to divert attention from that which is undeniable. Throughout the time I read about Buffo's slow collapse and ultimate disconnection from reality I couldn't help but think of the members of the Arturan cult in Geek love. These people seem to experience much of the same desire to escape from their personal Hell (whatever that may be to each individual) by undertaking a personal transformation that will make them a freak in a more salient way- as if turning oneself into a physical "freak" will draw both personal and outside attention away from the "freakishness" within. Both of these instances left me pondering the depths of loneliness, and just how far the average person would be able to go in such a direction under the worst of circumstances. Buffo's ultimate mental breakdown also felt eerily similar to that of Crystal Lil, as both were unable to handle the destruction of their family and the grief created by having their worlds crumble around them.
Nights at the Circus is widely discussed as being an important literary contribution in the categories of both postfeminist and magic realism. Though I do not disagree with this in any way, I found that there were several other layers of underlying themes that make Angela Carter's text such an interesting read. These characters hit home in a very human way, whether the reader is male, female, old, young, feminist or otherwise. Though I do not have room to discuss every thought that has crossed my mind regarding this book, I will say that it was a worthwhile read- regardless of my complaints about my own limited vocabulary as compared to that of the author.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Geek Love
What does it mean to be a "freak"?
I have to admit, when I first started reading Geek Love I spent almost as much time complaining as I did reading. I found the characters to be highly infuriating and unrelatable, and the first book took me several days to finish. It took me a while to become used to the graphic nature of some of the author's descriptions (such as the one near the beginning that taught me the true meaning of the word "geek" for the first time). However, as time went on I started to realize how deeply my own emotions had become tied into the text. By the end of the book I found myself hurting and longing and feeling devastated right along with each of the characters. The last page left me feeling empty and lonely-- an unexpected outcome that allowed me to realize just how universal some of the emotions explored by Katherine Dunn in this text truly are. With that being said, I began to ask myself what exactly it means to be a freak. Is it physical difference that distinguishes the normal from the abnormal, or is it something deeper-- a more central part of a person's emotional and mental being that defines some as being part of a larger human experience and others as being deviant?
I have to admit, when I first started reading Geek Love I spent almost as much time complaining as I did reading. I found the characters to be highly infuriating and unrelatable, and the first book took me several days to finish. It took me a while to become used to the graphic nature of some of the author's descriptions (such as the one near the beginning that taught me the true meaning of the word "geek" for the first time). However, as time went on I started to realize how deeply my own emotions had become tied into the text. By the end of the book I found myself hurting and longing and feeling devastated right along with each of the characters. The last page left me feeling empty and lonely-- an unexpected outcome that allowed me to realize just how universal some of the emotions explored by Katherine Dunn in this text truly are. With that being said, I began to ask myself what exactly it means to be a freak. Is it physical difference that distinguishes the normal from the abnormal, or is it something deeper-- a more central part of a person's emotional and mental being that defines some as being part of a larger human experience and others as being deviant?
In my opinion, Geek Love contains a strong theme of universal and shared feelings and experiences. Even though most of the characters in the book are supposed to be deviant and separated from society, many of the same rules of social hierarchy still exist within the context of the carnival. The social norms by which they live are extremely different from those of the outside world (for example, the thought of viewing children as a commodity rather than an object of unconditional love horrified me), but they still provide a context in which the characters can have emotional experiences similar to those of any "normal" person. Each of the central characters seems to have a basic longing to be loved and accepted, and will go to surprising lengths to try to earn this acceptance. This allowed me to realize how human, and arguably "normal" they truly are despite their physical abnormality.
For example, Lil is used by Al in a quest to create his own "garden" of abnormal children. She is so devoted to maintaining Al's love and approval that she is willing to not only abuse her own body (by means of drugs, radiation, or any other treatment used to cause birth defects), but also give Al all authority over whether each individual child is "freakish" enough to be kept. Even though it is obviously extremely difficult and against her will to consider abandoning a child (such as in the case of Chick before they realized his powers), she never questions whether or not she has a choice about doing so. She never makes any attempt to demand to keep a child or even have input in the decision. Rather, she accepts Al's judgment completely, and even feels guilty when she gives birth to a child that appears "normal". She takes the blame completely upon herself without ever prioritizing her own rights above the love she wishes to get from her husband. In this way, she continues to carry the burdens of the entire family throughout her life until she eventually disconnects from reality all together. I felt that this was due to the extreme pain involved in seeing the awful outcomes of the lives of her loved ones. Lily was never given the love she desired so much, nor was she allowed to love unconditionally.
Arty's extreme need for power is another thing I interpreted as a plea for love and acceptance. Early in the text he become obsessed with being the best selling act in the Fabulon. He is not concerned with the number of tickets his act sells, but simply that he is out-performing his greatest competition, the twins. It felt to me as though Arty had such a deep desire to be noticed and appreciated by his parents, not to mention fear of being rejected by them, that he was willing to do anything to secure is place as the carnival's top-selling act. Later, by creating a cult of followers, Arty essentially fabricates a world (and a group of people) in which he is not only accepted, but needed, loved, and asked for advice. Though he acts as though he values his physical deformities as a means of making him different from others, he creates an expansive group of people who are encouraged to not only think the way he does, but also remove limbs to emulate him physically. This leads me to wonder if Arty ever enjoyed being different, or if he was proud of his physical abnormality simply because it made him "normal" and valuable within the context of his family.
Chick shows the most obvious and open longing to be accepted by others. He is so concerned with preventing others' pain and suffering that he is eventually used and misled by Arty in ways that are incredibly damaging to himself. I felt that Chick expressed the same longing as the other characters, but much unlike the twisted ways of Arty, expressed his need for acceptance by means of extreme altruism. His empathy for both humans and animals, as well as his ability to love everyone around him regardless of how they treated him were, in my opinion, just another way in which a character in this story unsuccessfully tried to secure the love of their family.
The pain and yearning for acceptance is especially strong for Oly, as she is constantly made aware that she is of no monetary value to the family. She stands by Arty despite his horrific actions (such as trying to murder Chick, selling the twins to the Bag Man, lobotomizing Elly, etc.), and despite the terrible way he treats her, due to the simple fact that he needs her. I felt that Oly equated need with love, possibly as a result of never feeling needed (or truly loved, for that matter) within her family.
All in all, I felt this book touched on some very sensitive personal issues. The feeling of loneliness and alienation is such a common human experience that I can't help but wonder if any of these characters are so fundamentally "freakish" at all. Sure, most of the events that happen in this book would never take place in real life. But given these same circumstances, how many real, "normal" people would essentially become one of the characters from Geek Love?
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