Showing posts with label Analysis (Formal Essays). Show all posts
Showing posts with label Analysis (Formal Essays). Show all posts

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Circular Concepts in
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man


See pithy remarks for my personal comments.


James Joyce crafts a novel full of symbols and references in his A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man in order to explore the life and tribulations of the protagonist, Stephen Dedalus. Joyce’s frequent allusions to circles, orbs, and cyclical concepts emphasize the loss of masculinity among the myriad of characters that Stephen meets during his titular bildungsroman. The fear of castration and masculine degeneration is a common phobia among most males. According to psychoanalytical thinking, the Oedipus complex, named after the Greek tragic king, “involves fear of the father (and of threatening males in general) as fully as it involves desire for the mother (and for inferior, inadequate mother substitutes)”(Murfin 271). The characters demonstrate a lack or decline in masculinity as external and internal conflicts surface, prompting an unconscious “Am I man enough?” In Stephen’s case, the magnitude of his difficulties deviate him to find comfort in a “mother substitute”. As he witnesses the experiences of these minor characters and those of his own in the novel, Stephen grows up, afraid of, yet influenced by, metaphorical castration and the paternal threats that pressure him to become a devoted Irish citizen and pious member of civilized society.

Stephen spends his early years in the halls of Clongowes, a private boarding school for boys. He is a relatively naïve, innocent, young teenager, unexposed to the harsh realities of life away from home. One day, he and his school mates congregate to discuss a recent crime committed by some students on school grounds. Although they at first believed it to be a theft of wine from the school’s sacristy, a friendly acquaintance of Stephen named Athy gives a different account of the incident:

– They were caught with Simon Moonan and Tusker Boyle in the square one night.
The fellows looked at him and asked:
– Caught?
– What doing?
Athy said:
– Smugging.
All the fellows were silent: and Athy said:
– And that’s why. (50-51)

The boys are shocked in disbelief. “Smugging”, in this context, is defined as a mild sort of homosexual play. Even the mere thought of homosexuality was beyond sinful in such a highly religious school and especially during the late 1800s.
Previously unexposed to such racy subject matter, Stephen begins wondering about the smugging, thinking it must be a joke: “He wanted to ask somebody about it. What did that mean about the smugging in the square?”(51). He recalls Simon Moonan having “nice clothes”(51) and on “one night he had shown him a ball of creamy sweets that the fellows of the football fifteen had rolled down to him along the carpet in the middle of the refectory when he was at the door”(51). Even though Stephen finds Simon as a decent peer, the sudden revelation of his wrongdoing exhibits the defacing of his character and masculinity. The ball of creamy sweets he had shown Stephen symbolizes an orb of forbidden temptations, hinting at the offence he would carry out. The scene of the crime, the square, meaning the school’s latrine or urinal, further accentuates Simon’s castration. In attempting to satisfy his maternal desire, he and Tusker Boyle meet in the part of the building meant specifically for execratory means. By returning to the primitive requirement needed by all humans, Moonan is essentially returning to the mother’s womb, in which “we are [all] born between feces and urine”(Henke 324), suggesting an ongoing cycle. Ironically, Simon is last seen “walking by himself kicking a stone before him”(50), unlike the time before in which he advises that he and the boys return inside instead of kicking the football anymore. Having lost face and masculinity, Simon is now a social outcast, alone and vulnerable to criticism, kicking a round object that once represented the sport he enjoyed as a complete man. Feeling less of a man, Simon receives a flogging for punishment, but both his physical body and character suffer from the heinous crime.

As Stephen ages and matures, he undergoes gradual changes in mindset and lifestyle. He spends the summer at his family’s new house in Blackrock. During this time, he frequently goes out with his great uncle Charles on errands. One day, a meeting with Mike Flynn, a friend of Stephen’s father, is scheduled. According to Stephen’s father, Mike “had put some of the best runners of modern times through his hands”(66). At first, Mike sounds like the ideal macho figure, a confident track coach who favors a masculine running stance involving “[the] head high lifted, [the] knees well lifted and [the] hands held straight down by [the] sides”(66). Since Mike is a friend of Stephen’s father, an associate of uncle Charles, and an athletic trainer, the supposedly great coaching and social persona about him makes Mike an ideal paternal character.

He begins “Stephen’s run round the park”(66). The trainer then makes a few comments about Stephen’s cyclic scamper and even demonstrates by shuffling along. However, his vain efforts attract “a small ring of wonderstruck children and nursemaids…[who] gather to watch him and linger even when he and uncle Charles had sat down again and were talking athletics and politics”(66). Mike may have had an illustrious career in the past, but his proficiency has obviously declined in the years that followed. Stephen’s “run round the track in the style [he] favour[s]”(66) is fruitlessly executed, to the extent that he may as well be running in circles rather than training for real. It seems Mike’s training regimen is no longer up to par. In addition, his own laughable scuttle draws a circle of surprised onlookers who even stick around to hear his conversations with uncle Charles. The spectators form a ring around Mike, signifying his lost aptitude. His once proud manhood is diminished, despite his optimism for continuing to train potential runners. He is susceptible to and unprotected from the spectators’ possible disparagement. Regardless, a talkative husk of Mike’s former self remains as he sits down to chat with uncle Charles about athletics and politics, refuting any paternal qualities he may have had because of his passive, nonaggressive demeanor. Furthermore, Stephen doubts his trainer’s authenticity,

often glanc[ing] with mistrust at his trainer’s flabby stubblecovered face, as it bent over the long stained fingers through which he rolled his cigarette, and with pity at the mild lustreless blue eyes which would look up suddenly from the task and gaze vaguely into the bluer distance while the long swollen fingers ceased their rolling and grains and fibres of tobacco fell back into the pouch. (66)

Age has apparently withered Mike’s body and masculinity, hence his comical shuffle and appearance. Stephen disapproves of his “flabby stubblecovered face” and “stained fingers”, implying his uncleanness and failure to keep a shaven face, like all men were expected to have. Still, Stephen sympathizes with Mike’s “mild lustre blue eyes”, orbs that “gaze vaguely into the bluer distance”, hinting at the trainer’s uncertainty of his career’s present and future. Although Mike continues to train people and runs himself, he has fallen a great deal in terms of his athletic and teaching abilities, denoting his unwitting castration.

Stephen is an older teenager now and leads a very strict religious life. Attending a Jesuit school, he devotes all his time to prayer and the church. The director of the school summons him to a meeting one day, where they initially exchange idle chatter about the capuchin dresses. The director mentions how they could be replaced with the more common les jupes. Smiling at his remark, Stephen contemplates the director’s reference to les jupes, which means skirts in French. Thus, the very slight mention of “the names of articles of dress worn by women or of certain soft and delicate stuffs used in their making brought always to [Stephen’s] mind a delicate and sinful perfume”(142). The French skirts startle and puzzle Stephen, as he struggles to ponder why such effeminate clothing would be worn by priests, “men who washed their bodies briskly with cold water and wore clean cold linen”(142). Stephen is clearly afraid of this possible departure from the normal, pure, masculine clothing he has always donned.

The director and the priests, the ultimate paternal figures, have summoned Stephen to speak “on a very important subject”(143). The director feels that Stephen is eligible to become a priest:

To receive that call, Stephen, is the greatest honour that the Almighty God can bestow upon a man. No king or emperor on this earth has the power of the priest of God. No angel or archangel in heaven, no saint, not even the Blessed Virgin herself, has the power of a priest of God: the power of the keys, the power to bind and to loose from sin, the power of exorcism, the power to cast out from the creatures of God the evil spirits that have power over them; the power, the authority, to make the great God of Heaven come down upon the altar and take the form of bread and wine. What an awful power, Stephen! (144)

Stephen is at first excited by the prospect of priesthood, “see[ing] himself, a young and silent-mannered priest, entering a confessional swiftly, ascending the altar-steps, incensing, genuflecting, accomplishing the vague acts of the priesthood”(144). However, as he walks home, he recalls the influence the church has had on him. The devotion he once had was no longer burning as strongly, especially since “the priestly role offered to Stephen here is feminine”(Brivic 288). Moreover, it is the binding quality of priesthood that steers Stephen gradually away from religion, as “once a priest always a priest”(146). Again, such devout commitment scares Stephen, as this robs him of the masculinity that is left within him. After temporarily discarding lust, greed, and other worldly thoughts, he realizes that he must learn the “wisdom of others … among the snares of the world”(148). Stephen decidedly resolves to abandon his faith, in pursuit of another form of refuge, his embodiment of the “substitute mother”. In the process, he successfully safeguards his invaluable masculinity from the effeminate influence.

The loss of masculinity is a terrible situation for any male. It can lead to acute criticism, exile, and disillusionment. As Stephen struggles through life, discovering the mistakes of others and his own, he prevents the castration of his own masculinity, learning the errors of those he meets and ultimately, finds the maternal womb he has so longed for. Joyce employs the imagery and conceptual ideas of round shapes to help underscore the male castration, showing the decline of one’s character and masculinity.

Thursday, November 15, 2007

The Plum Plum Pickers - Passage Explication


See pithy remarks for my personal comments.


In this passage from The Plum Plum Pickers, author Raymond Barrio suggests the ongoing struggle that takes place between the rich and the poor. Specifically, those of higher social ranking exploit and abuse the “common man”, despite living more comfortable lives. Barrio’s use of terse sentences and striking imagery express the inhuman and animal qualities of these “common men”, the Spanish laborers who pick fruit during a hot day. In contrast, the higher up authoritative figures relax and enjoy the day, “smiling in their cool filtered offices, puffing their elegant thin cigars”(40). The differences in these social groups eventually cause conflict, resulting in a confrontation that reveals the underlying similarities of all humans, regardless of class.

Barrio portrays the protagonist, Manuel, as the lower ranking man who must savagely toil away to earn insufficient pay. In fact, it is notable that Barrio chooses to name the character “Manuel”, as he seems to hint at the character’s representation of the common man. The passage begins with him picking fruit among the rows of trees. He is “trapped in an endless maze of apricot trees … like the blackest bars on the jails of hell”(40). Barrio compares Manuel’s meager job to an animal’s imprisonment, punishment for those considered below human standards. The use of one word sentences, “locked”(40), “animal”(40), “brute”(40), “beast”(40), and “savage”(40), are dispensed between descriptions of Manuel’s search for a respite, water, conveying his primal instincts. The short phrases are like flashes of bestiality; they compel Manuel to quench his dire thirst after working in the hot dry air. Later on, the crew chief passes by Manuel and ridicules his performance, calling him a “pendejo”(40). This pejorative term further classifies Manuel as a lowly human being. Such low prey is easy picking for higher up predatory crew chiefs.

Roberto Morales, the crew chief and foreman of the Spanish laborers, is the primary predator and antagonist. Although a fellow Spaniard himself, Morales is described as a “vicious, thieving brute … to his own people”(40). He found these fruit picking jobs for his fellow men, but in doing so, rose to a position above them. In essence, he has betrayed his people by actually taking money from each of his laborer’s already scanty salary. Morales’ name is actually a pun for moralless, having no virtues or conscience, suggesting his lack of decency even among his own people.

However, as Morales comes around to collect two cents from everyone’s pay, a change in tone occurs. Unlike the earlier animal imagery of Manuel and the derogatory portrayal of Morales, the two characters come face to face in a quick scene of conflict. Even though having more authority and “[having] the whole advantage”(41), Morales is perturbed by Manuel’s deliberate action; the fruit picker tips over his bucket of fruits, wasting them to the ground. His comrades poise to do the same, prompting Morales to back off, stating that he “shall take nothing this time”(41). The lower social group, in effect, defeats the higher one with strength in numbers and cause. Manuel and the other pickers “[have] wrenched Morales’ greedy fingers away”(41), allowing them to feed their families just a bit more. In doing so, Manuel achieves a “sense of honor and pride”(41) in which all “men are built to experience”(41).

Different social classes continue to clash due to disparities in living style and wealth. The lower classes, typically taken advantage of by the higher classes, are deemed subhuman. Despite the differences and conflicts that arise, all humans still have the right to feel dignity in protecting one’s family or serving one’s people, as Barrio clearly demonstrates in his depiction of Manuel.

Thursday, October 4, 2007

The Stranger - Passage Explication


See pithy remarks for my personal comments.


In The Stranger, Albert Camus develops a complex character named Meursault to explore the theory of the absurd and the motif of truth. Camus demonstrates these concepts by placing Meursault in unusual and uncommon situations, recording his behavior and reactions. Some of the more notable incidents, such as when Meursault kills the Arab and the time he spends awaiting execution, reveal the ideas Camus wants to convey.

During Meursault’s excursion to the beach, he and Raymond encounter the vengeful Arabs. Tensions rise between the two parties, because Raymond, a neighbor and friend of Meursault, had dismissed his girlfriend for cheating on him, prompting the woman’s brothers to result to violence. Although Raymond is not fatally injured in the first skirmish, Meursault kills one of the Arabs in his second encounter, not out of revenge, but out of frustration of the weather.

In this beginning half of the novel, Camus depicts Meursault as an emotionless individual who simply lets his existence carry him on in life. It seems Meursault takes no responsibility for his actions, hence his subconscious belief in absurdism, which states that finding meaning in the world is useless. Thus, instead of returning back to the bungalow retreat, Meursault heads towards the beach, since he is “unable to face the effort it would take to climb the wooden staircase and face the women again”(57). He had already told the women back in the bungalow about Raymond’s injury, but he “didn’t like having to explain to them”(54), especially if he had to do it again once he returned with Raymond. In effect, his display of frank honesty shows his refraining from escalating unnecessary emotions.

Meursault’s unwillingness to return contradicts his motive to walk on the beach. Despite the blazing Algerian sun, he continues walking on the beach. The “dazzling red glare”(57), the “fiery air”(58), and the lazy “sound of the waves”(58) seem to be pushing Meursault forward. He perseveres despite the “burning, which I couldn’t stand anymore, that made me move forward. I knew that it was stupid, that I wouldn’t get the sun off me by stepping forward. But I took a step, one step, forward”(59). Meursault acknowledges the intensive heat, but is not persuaded to retreat. In fact, he continues even after seeing the Arab in the distance. In response, the Arab draws his knife, and Meursault suffers a “scorching blade slashed at my eyelashes and stabbed at my stinging eyes”(59). Camus may have chosen these words to represent the ongoing heat that Meursault is experiencing; it is ambiguous as to whether the Arab actually hits him with the knife. As a direct result of the sun, he immediately shoots the Arab, killing him on the spot. The murder is illogical; Meursault sees no consequences from the Arab’s death other than minor relief from the heat.

After a speedy, unfair trial, the prosecutor gives Meursault the death penalty. While awaiting execution day in his jail cell, he contemplates his life and the approaching execution. During the trial, the prosecutor focuses much on Meursault’s lack of feeling during his mother’s funeral. The issue becomes more important than the actual murder, to the point where the prosecutor argues that Meursault be given the death sentence for being incapable of showing emotion or remorse during the funeral. Meursault remains stolid to the decision, for he originally sees no use in having a lawyer or accepting God to forgive his sins. He persists that the truth be known, in spite of the outcome.

Meursault thinks deeply about the recent events as the days dwindle in his cell. He is anxious about “the dawn and my appeal”(112). Since the officials always came to the cells at dawn, Meursault restlessly “spent my nights waiting for that dawn”(113). Although he begins to doubt the news of an appeal, he continues to listen for footsteps outside his cell. But after finally assuming that his appeal is denied, Meursault begins recognizing his own mortality and the responsibility one has for one’s own life.

In the end, Camus has Meursault accept the demise he caused upon himself. For the first time in a while, he thinks about his mother and Marie, his girlfriend. However, regarding his mother’s death, he felt that “nobody, nobody had the right to cry over her”(122). Likewise, he states that “remembering Marie meant nothing to me”(115). In following the fundamentals of absurdism, Meursault believes that it is pointless to think anymore of these people, since they are either gone from the world or will forget him soon after he dies. Camus uses a grave tone here to express Meursault’s seriousness on the subject; Meursault isn’t saying this because he is depressed of his upcoming execution. He initially seems afraid of death once he learns the responsibility he had over his own life. But with the revelation he digs up while reflecting over the situation, Meursault ultimately accepts his death as punishment. He actually feels happy in finding the “gentle indifference of the world”(122). His fleeting happiness is the epitome of the irrationality he has had to deal with.

Camus succeeds in exposing absurdism and literal truth to the reader with his concise exposition of Meursault’s character. Whether at the beach or on trial or in the small cell, Meursault is put in odd situations in which he expresses deep thoughts over and reacts differently that most people would. In explaining the absurdism that Meursault experiences, Camus makes him an honest man despite his shortcomings, which eventually causes the character’s downfall.

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

"Red Shift" - Explication


The poem, "Red Shift", is by Ted Berrigan. See pithy remarks for my personal comments.


In the poem “Red Shift”, Ted Berrigan suggests that the speaker is a wandering soul, perhaps a future ghost of himself, reminiscing the past. Using literary techniques, argument, imagery, and word choice, the poem expresses and explores what this spirit experiences during its visit on earth.

Berrigan thrusts the reader immediately into the poem with the starting phrase, “Here I am at 8:08 p.m.” (1). Along with the mention of the biting air and the month of February, the reader knows right away that the poem takes place during the winter, a time frequently associated with depression and dark times. Berrigan’s use of “indefinable ample rhythmic frame” (1) may mean that the speaker’s large form can not be described, possibly because it is a spirit. The speaker goes on talking about Allen and Frank, “Allen is a movie, Frank disappearing in the air” (4). This could be referencing real life American poets, Allen Ginsberg and Frank O’Hara, the latter of whom had influenced Berrigan’s literary works. As the poem continues on, “American poison liquid air” (3) and Calvados are being taken by the speaker, implying that it may actually be drunk. The speaker’s descriptive opening then transitions to a more grave light and tone, as can be heard when Berrigan himself is reading the poem.

“Love, children… money, marriage-ethics, a politics of grace” (9) are portrayed as “Up in the air, swirling, burning even or still” (10). It seems as though the speaker had lost everything it once possessed, and now, the possessions are dispersed among the air. Berrigan goes on and depicts a serious boy, a pretty, young woman, and a painter “who will never leave me” (15). Again, although the speaker is most likely seeing people in its past, these people may be allusions to acquaintances in Berrigan’s real life; the boy might be himself, while the woman is his wife and the painter could have been a best friend. The use of “the winter twilight at 6th / & Bowery in 1961” (11-12) hints that the speaker is in New York City. Berrigan himself lived in New York City for the latter part of his life. The speaker then brings up the song “California Dreaming”. According to the lyrics of the song, which were written by The Mamas & the Papas in 1963, an unspecified person stops into a church and pretends to pray. However, the speaker’s phrase “no, I won’t do that” (17) probably means it refrains from worshipping. Berrigan’s poem carries on, and continues to reference the recollections of a past life.

However, the speaker begins to contradict itself by saying “When will I die? I will never die, I will live / To be 110, & I will never go away” (18-19). Perhaps the speaker is drunk, and wonders when it will die. But assuming it is a spirit or ghost, the speaker will probably never “go away”. As if to reinforce the previous statement, Berrigan has the speaker say, “you will never escape from me who am always & only a ghost, despite this frame, Spirit / Who lives only to nag” (19-20). This further confirms the possibility that the speaker is a supernatural being. To prove that its form is not tangible, the speaker declares, “I’m only pronouns, & I am all of them” (21). The two concluding sentences seem to demonstrate the speaker’s last mustering effort to leave the reader with meaningful words before it departs from the world. The contrasting phrase, “Alone & crowded” (24), most likely means that the speaker is surrounded by many of its kind, but remains isolated because of its longing for the real world. The speaker subsequently glides into the air, leaving behind a hectic world, which in a way, still resides in him, since he concludes with, “The world’s furious song flows through my costume” (25).

The concept of ghosts and spirits has been around for centuries if not millennia. Such phenomena have always intrigued humans, for we dream of a life after death or communication with the dead. Thus, it is plausible that “Red Shift” deals with a ghost that returns to reminisce over the past, since Ted Berrigan’s imagery and writing style illustrate such an event. The spirit may even be Berrigan due to all the personal references he surreptitiously inserts into the poem.