Marilynne Robinson's Housekeeping: Critical Review

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Redemption through Memory: Analyzing Narration in Robinson’s Housekeeping

                  Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson deals with many issues that are deeply personal and complex. The issues that seem to plague the main characters of the novel are loneliness, depression, and an inability to connect with the outside world. Motifs such as ghosts, apparitions, transience and reflections coincide with how the narrative develops these issues into a comprehensible understanding. Tragic and sudden loss surrounding the lives of Lucille and especially Ruthie are not an uncommon experience, as it is one that the whole of society can relate with. Coping with tragic loss can be an inexplicable journey, yet throughout the narrative the puzzlement of loss is slowly and carefully pieced together to the extent that the narrator and the reader can come to terms with it and have a clearer understanding of what the novel intends to convey. The narration by Ruthie is framed from memory which is a significant notion tied to the experiences of loss. In being able to retell the entirety of her past from both real and fabricated memories, Ruthie will finally be able to move on from grief and begin to forgive her troubled past.

            In attempting to analyze why the novel is situated in Ruthie’s memory and how it will eventually reconcile her, it is important to first understand Ruthie’s characteristics portrayed in it. One of her stronger traits that begin to come to the surface of her character as she grows up is transience. Transience is a major thematic element in the text. A transient is one who only occupies a space for a short period of time. In the text it is shown to be a mental space as well as a physical one. The mentality of a transient is an inability to connect with the realities that surround them. As a child Ruthie is never really mentally conscious to the events that happen around her. She partakes in them, but is unable to project her true emotions (at least verbally) at the moment, as revealed in Chapter 6, “You’re so quiet. It’s hard to know what you think.” Sylvie stood up and we began to walk home. “I suppose I don’t know what to think.” (Robinson 105)

             Ruthie is a follower. First she follows Lucille in search of the town’s acceptance then Sylvie into the life of a transient. This combined with her wish to not be seen by the outside world will further decline her into a state of loneliness and perplexity. Ruthie’s experiences have inflicted her with pain that is incomprehensible as a child. In effect she struggles with wanting to succumb to oblivion and be a mere shadow. It is interesting to see that transience does not affect Lucille who went through much of the same experiences Ruthie did. But this question is soon answered. As they begin to grow and enter their later adolescence, they begin drifting apart. This is highlighted in Chapter 7. The marker of change in the sisters’ relationship begins to arise;

            
Sometimes we would try to remember our mother, though more and more we disagreed and   even quarreled about what she had been like. Lucille’s mother was orderly, vigorous, and sensible, a widow (more than I ever knew or she could prove) who was killed in an accident. My mother presided over a life so strictly simple and circumscribed that it could not have made any significant demands on her attention. She tended us with a gentle indifference that made me feel she would have liked to have been more alone – she was the abandoner, and not the one abandoned. (Robinson, 109)

Memories of both sisters are different which is significant. Lucille has chosen a memory of their mother that is positive while Ruthie’s memory illustrates a negative picture. This is evident as Lucille will begin to yearn for acceptance from the town and become more involved in contemporary fashions and building friendships outside the home. Ruthie’s personal memory of her mother is a reflection of herself. There is a void in Ruthie that passionately needs to be filled. She eventually chooses Sylvie to fill that void.

            The pivotal moment of Lucille and Ruthie’s separation takes place when they set out to the woods and spent the night there. They begin to construct a house made of driftwood and stone slabs. The house they build is flimsy and the roof falls twice before it gains any stability. It seems they are subconsciously playing out a scene that has a very similar quality to the woman they attempted to build from snow earlier in the novel. The woman they tried to build also would fall apart. There is some significance to notice that any structure they build together fails to become whole. What can the reader make of this? It could signify their attempts on filling in voids that they so desire. As they nestle into their house they are surrounded by darkness. Again Lucille and Ruthie have different memories of this moment as Ruthie claims, “Lucille would tell this story differently.” Ruthie’s version of this memory is cynical and is inspired by the complete darkness that envelops her; “Darkness is the only solvent. While it was dark…it seemed to me that there need not be relic, remnant, margin, residue, memento, bequest, memory, thought, track, or trace, if only darkness could be perfect and permanent;” Thus signifying Ruthie’s desire for oblivion. It seems here that Ruthie is plagued by memory and finds insight in the complete dark. She finds solace in it and a type of peace that can never be achieved in light with eyes gazed upon her. When Lucille and Ruthie find their way back home the next morning, Ruthie contemplates, “I knew that my decay, now obvious and accelerating, should somehow be concealed for decency’s sake.” (Robinson 119). Ruthie realizes that if she sinks into a visible state of depression it might further separate her from Lucille and also build a larger barrier to the outside world.

            After this moment of realization, Ruthie starts to become much more isolated. Her relationship with her sister is at an awkward stage of revulsion. They cease to communicate. However, this catalyzes more of a bond with Sylvie. The episode in Chapter 8 reveals a push toward insight and familial discovery. In an urgent manner, Sylvie wakes Ruthie in the early morning telling her of a surprise. They make their way to a boat where they set off towards a place where Sylvie would secretly go and search for lost children. The scene reveals an eloquent and insightful rumination by Ruthie;

             
If there had been snow I would have made a statue, a woman to stand along the path, among the trees. The children would have come close, to look at her. Lot’s wife was salt and barren, because she was full of loss and mourning, and looked back. But here rare flowers would gleam in her hair, and on her breast, and in her hands, and there would be children all around her, to love and marvel at her for her beauty, and to laugh at the extravagant adornments, as if they had set the flowers in her hair and thrown down all the flowers at her feet, and they would forgive her, eagerly and lavishly, for turning   away, though she never asked to be forgiven (Robinson 153).

This lengthy passage offers a glimmer of Ruthie’s longing to connect with the outside world. This is a facet of some sort of redemptive memory she brings to her conscience. Again the reader is introduced to the statue symbol Ruthie repeatedly brings up. The emphasis on it could symbolize her mother. Furthermore, the Biblical reference to Lot’s wife is provocative. Notably, it is Ruthie (or Robinson) that comes up with the idea that Lot’s wife was full of loss and mourning. It does not mention as to why Lot’s wife looked back in the Bible, but could provide further evidence of the idea that one can project an idea or a memory to help delineate or console one’s conflicted past. The earlier scene in darkness and the wish for oblivion seems to be quelled by this memory and sets Ruthie on a path of forgiveness and reconciliation.

            The episode in Chapter 9 will set off events that will unintentionally secure the bond between Ruthie and Sylvie. When the townspeople of Fingerbone become overly concerned about Ruthie becoming a transient, they intervene and enter into the personal lives of Sylvie and Ruthie. It is not because they share an empathetic concern with Ruthie’s well being, but are more guilt-ridden in witnessing Ruthie’s transformation. Their religious and moral duties enact them to invade Ruthie’s life.  It makes them uncomfortable because it fills them with pity brought on by their definition of a good moral Christian. Furthermore, Ruthie explains, “So the transients wandered through Fingerbone like ghosts, terrifying as ghosts are because they were not very different from us. And so it was important to the town to believe I was rescued, and that rescue was possible.” (Robinson 178). It was an impossibility to see Ruthie fall victim to a life of transience. Upon numerous visits to their household, the neighbors notice a scene of hoarding and un-cleanliness. We begin to see Sylvie’s desire to keep Ruthie as she states the importance of family to stay together; “Families should stay together,” Sylvie said. “They should. There is no other help” (Robinson 186). Unfortunately they fail to convince their neighbors that Ruthie should stay in the care of Sylvie, in which case there will be a hearing to decide their fate. The thought of another separation conjures up in Ruthie an insightful and eloquent message of memory and loss forthcoming in the remainder of the narrative.

            The next chapter reveals Ruthie’s unwillingness to be separated through the retelling of Creation developed by family breakup. Mourning and loss is played out in history and in an eloquent rationalization Ruthie connects it with memory; “Memory is the sense of loss and loss pulls us after it” (Robinson 194). Moreover, once one loses someone, their memory becomes more real than when they were actually physically present. Helen’s disconnect with her children is evident of this notion. Earlier in the narrative Ruthie explains that the memory of her mother is characterized by her indifference which is a reflection on herself as well as Sylvie. More evidence of this comes from Ruthie’s observance of Sylvie in connection with this notion;

             
Sylvie did not want to lose me. She did not want me to grow gigantic and multiple, so that I seemed to fill the whole house, and she did not wish me to turn subtle and miscible, so that I could pass through membranes that separate dream from dream…She much preferred my simple, ordinary presence, silent and ungainly though I might be (Robinson 195).

At this point in the novel Ruthie and Sylvie become inseparable. The mutually need each other, for if they suffer yet another lose that can doom them back into darkness and oblivion. However the question remains; Does Ruthie ever come to a point of reconciliation? The answer could be seen in the bridge.

            After Sylvie and Ruthie come to a point where they can no longer convince their neighbors that they should not be separated, they decide to burn their house down and begin a life of wandering. As they start to cross the bridge something ruminates deep inside Ruthie’s narrative voice and beckons back to a memory that fulfills her with a redemptive image of her mother. The noises and slow movement provided a moment of clarity and demystified the memory of her mother’s indifference that haunted her. She recalls a scene of a park where her mother used to take her. The memory is full of nostalgia and Ruthie concludes, “My mother was happy that day, we did not know why.” (Robinson 213) Even though Ruthie and Sylvie may have been always destined to wander, there is an apparent reconciliation that happens within Ruthie. Their banishment from Fingerbone is not because they willed it to happen in order to wander aimlessly into oblivion. It was because if they stayed the family would be fragmented conclusively. Their housekeeping is not ended with the burning down of the house. However it should signify their willingness to continue on with the housekeeping, by keeping a sense of their family intact.

Works Cited

Robinson, Marilynne. Housekeeping. New York: Picador, 1980.

Visionaries and the Inheritors

I. Introduction

Understanding the Western genre seems simple. Like films of other genres, features of Westerns occasionally follow a formula that seasoned audiences can predict. The Western is more or less about an era of exploration and development in the United States. Furthermore there is a character or emblematic Western figure that stands tall, possesses great strength, and is quick with a revolver. This figure is also sometimes accompanied by one, two, or even a group of men at his side that faithfully follow his word as law. However presupposing that Western film is merely formulaic and simple does not do this genre justice. There are many complex devices used to convey much deeper meaning that portray the beginnings of the American West.



II. Introduction to Central Argument

In Red River (Howard Hawks, 1948) Tom Dunson, played by John Wayne, is a hovering man with ambition, tenacity, strength and an unwavering work ethic. His qualities can be compared to a Benjamin Franklin type of American; a hard working, self-made man. He is accompanied by a loyal and somewhat of a clownish character, Nadine Groot and an adopted son named Matthew Garth. In juxtaposition, a character in The Man from Laramie (Anthony Mann, 1955) who can be easily compared to Tom Dunson is Alec Waggoman. Waggoman has built his Barb Ranch from the ground up just as Dunson did (beginning with just one bull and one cow). They both have severe ambition that becomes overwhelmingly authoritative. As the two narratives progress one can say that they begin to lose sight (in Alec’s case it is quite literal) and degenerate the loyalty of their men and disenchantment of their dream. But maybe the most significant similar quality of these two Western figures is their relationship they have with their sons. Tom Dunson and Alec Waggoman both have a strong desire to carry on their legacies by passing them onto an heir which adds to the conflict in both narratives. Vic and Matt also imbibe similar characteristics, especially in their interactions with their father figures. There are strong yet subtle parallels and contrasts that one can draw between the fathers and sons of both films, each possessing characteristics that instigate the ambiguity between good, evil, society, and law. The same characteristics that instigate this ambiguity can also draw upon some intriguing answers in a profound American sense. Perhaps in the uncertainty between friend, foe, father and son, Red River and The Man from Laramie suggests that the promises of a new frontier, new land, and a legacy built from the ground up can result in an endless search for the visionary’s dream.


III. Tom Dunson and Alec Waggoman: Visionaries  

In analyzing Tom Dunson and Alec Waggoman as father figures, there strikes a resemblance to a type of American that almost seems mythic in modern times. Historically, the US patriarchal sentiment was ubiquitous. Americans honor their founding fathers by naming states and cities after them, illustrating them on currency, and building epic monuments in their honor. Like the legacies of the founding fathers, Dunson and Waggoman have branched out towards the West and built something of their own from the ground up. Dunson, with just one bull and cow, grew a vast herd with thousands of head of cattle. Likewise, Alec Waggoman has spent his entire life building up his Barb Ranch. Unlike The Man from Laramie that begins in media res, Red River offers the audience the beginnings of Dunson’s dream;

"Ten years and I’ll have the Red River D on more cattle than you’ve looked at anywhere. I’ll have that brand on enough beef to feed the whole country. Good beef for hungry people. Beef to make em’ strong. To make em’ grow. But it takes work, it takes sweat, it takes time, lots of time. It takes years."

There is a strong sense of optimism in Dunson’s tone. As the audience hears his speech, images of Dunson’s dream transitions in and beholds a promising future for his legacy. As the fourteen long years pass the audience sees a grown-up and experienced Matt, an older and wiser Groot, and an embittered Dunson. The market has no demand for beef and Dunson’s vision came to an end. This is a significant portrait of the American dream; a story of optimism, promise, gain and loss. The American dream has given much optimism to one who partakes so ambitiously in her promises, but nothing prepares this individual for failure.

In The Man from Laramie, Lockhart enters the town of Coronado and is greeted by a deep and complex structure full of tension and mystery. He and the audience soon find out the order of things and the social politics that govern it. It is apparent that Alec Waggoman runs things in Coronado. Yet there is a sense of imbalance, especially in Alec Waggoman. If the film began with a young Alec in his prime where the audience could see him building up his ranch, one would most likely confront a character full of promise, confidence, and a clear vision. Yet the audience is greeted by an old and decadent character that is going blind. He states, “I own a hundred thousand acres yet cannot see ten of them.” The loss of his vision is both in his eyes and his dream. The gradual blindness of Alec can act as a symbol of disillusionment and adds to the ambiguity of the narrative.

With his ranch established, it would seem that Alec’s dream of building up a legacy has come into fruition. But there is a sense of unsettledness, probably owing to the fact that his heir to his legacy is an incompetent and spoiled brat. When Alec reveals his inevitable blindness to Vic he speaks with candor which sets off a string of events that leads to Dave’s untimely death;

Alec: I’ve been pretty hard on you Vic. Maybe a little harder than you deserve. Maybe I’m a little jealous because you’re not my son too. Take care of my boy. Love him like a brother, and I’ll love you like a son.
Vic: Alright… Pa.

This dialogue between Alec and Vic is intriguing. Much like the relationship between Matt and Dunson, there is genuine love between unrelated kin. The bond that is formed is legitimate as if they were related by blood, but will soon be betrayed by Vic. Alec is full of uncertainty and the truth is not revealed to him until the end when his physical blindness completely takes over. The truth being that now his legacy will not be carried on with Dave and Vic both dead.

IV. Vic and Matthew Garth: “Inheritors”

Vic, not in blood relation to Alec Waggoman, is much more fitted to be Alec’s son because of his ambition and strength. During the film, the audience finds out that Vic is behind the selling of the repeating rifles to the Apache which got Lockhart’s brother killed. In trying to cover up this deed along with his ambition in one day inheriting the ranch along with Dave, more evils occur that are willed upon Vic. There is something much more distorted in just painting Vic as a villain because of the misdeeds that happen at his hands. Vic has many of the same characteristics Tom Dunson has. He is ambitious and worked years at the Barb. Consider the scene where Barbara attempts to convince Vic they should just leave Coronado and start a new life;

Barbara: This is no place for us Vic. I want to leave and I want you to leave with me.
Vic: Where can we go?!
Barbara: Anywhere.
Vic: That’s the same as nowhere! Look Barbara, we’ve been all over this before. Here in Coronado we’ve got something, if we leave we’re a couple of nobodies.
Barbara: You keep saying we got nothing if we leave. If we love each other doesn’t that mean anything?
Vic: I love you Barbara you know that, but I worked my whole life for the Barb. I got years of sweat and blood soaked in that ground and I’m not giving up what’s rightfully mine.

The pouring of sweat and blood in the Barb is reminiscent of Dunson’s speech, when he says “it takes sweat, it takes time.” The vision is clear of what Vic wants and he will do anything to get what is rightfully his.

Matthew Garth is situated somewhat similar to Vic, as they are both not in blood relation to their father figures. They both stand and expect to inherit a legacy which they assisted in building. They both have a stake in it and are willing to go against their fathers in order to achieve it. With Matt, the audience sees a strong and perseverant man, but of delicate charisma. Wherever he goes people tend to like and follow him. Unlike Dunson who forces his will onto his comrades, Matt works with people and yields much more freedom. This overwhelming will of Dunson soon turns into madness which prompted Matt to turn on him and take over his cattle drive. Dunson’s haunting words “I’m going to kill you” manifested into the ears and heart of Matt that plague the cattle drive up to Abilene. Driven by fear and hope, Matt traverses the landscape always looking over his shoulder. The sudden shift from love to hatred projected by Dunson comes at somewhat of a shock, but it is soon realized that Dunson’s hatred and urge to kill Matt seems false in his confrontation with Tess;

Tess: Why do you want to kill him?
Dunson: Because he’s a theif.
Tess: You think he thinks that?
Dunson: He should! I picked him up in the brush fourteen years ago leading a cow. He saw what I was planning, saw what I was building. He knew someday it will all be his. His land, his cattle, the whole thing. He even talked of a woman. A strong woman who will bear him sons. A woman like you.
Tess: Why did you want him to have a son?
Dunson: Because I built something. Build it with my own hands and I can’t live forever. Can’t live to see it grow. I thought I had a son, now I haven’t and I want one.

The last words in this dialogue are of significance towards the central theme of the film. It is what drives Dunson. Everything he has and built would need to be continued after he is gone. When he dies, his legacy would die with him without a son.

There is also a strangeness of the proposal to Tess about bearing a son for him in trade for half of everything he owns. It is almost as if he is treating her like one of his cattle, to breed him a son.  

V: Women’s Roles interlaced in Father/Son Element

The treatment of women and the lack of mothers in the central narrative of these films deserve some analysis. In context of when these films were made, the roles of men and women were clearly defined in social and private spheres. Considering this, and the Western cementing its place in popular culture perhaps it is not surprising, however as Robert B. Pippin suggests in his essay, Red River and the Right to Rule, there is a supposed “impossibility of women in this new world.” (Pippin 33)  Dunson leaves Fen for Texas to start on his vision and Matt leaves Tess to finish the drive to Abilene even though both of these women are strong and independent, it is impossible for them to participate in these legacy building narratives. For Dunson, the plan to build his legacy without a woman seems a bit complicated, however Pippin again argues a valid point, “As we shall see in other contexts, the issue being joined here is not sexual politics but the politics of founding and the idea of self generated (and so entitled) mini-empire.”(Pippin 35) Moreover, Dunson’s ambition is far too great to settle down and betroth to a woman. His vision does not account romance, only to build his legacy on his own.

VI: Conclusion

In Red River there is some suggestion brought up by Cherry Valance that Matt is too soft and feminine, which might get him killed. These qualities hold true, yet enable him to successfully lead a group of tired out men and thousands of cattle for days into Abilene and to stand up to Dunson earning his “M” next to the Red River D. The resolution at the end gives way to a sense of order from the chaos of Dunson’s cattle drive. Furthermore, in The Man from Laramie, Lockhart leaves Cornoado, a town that finds peace and order in dénouement.  However, there is something uncanny about both endings. There is more order, yet things seem unfinished. In one film, there was a happier ending, where Dunson and Matt forgave each other and in the other Alec Waggoman lost his sons yet reunited with his first love, Kate. What one may take from both these endings could be laid out in reflecting upon the American West. Hordes of men just like Tom Dunson and Alec Waggoman went searching for a vision. They envisioned prosperity, but did they find what they were looking for? There is something that will always be provocative that searching for one’s vision and the promise of achieving it seems to always be undone and ambiguous.



Works Cited

The Man from Laramie. Directed by Anthony Mann. Performed by Arthur Kennedy, Donald Crisp, James Stewart. 1955.
Red River. Directed by Howard Hawks. Performed by Joanne Dru, John Wayne. 1948.
Pippin, Robert B. "Red River and the Right to Rule." Hollywood Westerns: American Myth 26-58.

Roald Dahl & Dr. Seuss: Educating Through Nonsensical Conventions

Introduction

As a child I had a fascination with books. When I visited the local library, the children’s section was always a special place for my imagination to run wild. Dr. Seuss books were always very special to me. The illustrations, the wild creatures, and interesting stories were a delight. Another author that also had the same effect was Roald Dahl. Dahl once said;

I have a passion for teaching kids to become readers, to become comfortable with a book, not daunted. Books shouldn't be daunting, they should be funny, exciting and wonderful; and learning to be a reader gives a terrific advantage. (Dahl)

There are intrinsic emotions when I go back and reread these authors. Contemplating the connections between them and how they taught me to develop my understanding of the English language and the world around me, some questions come to fruition. How can they get children to gravitate towards their works in such distinctive ways?

Nonsense, a device employed by both authors, contributes to subliminal learning permeating a child’s mind. In looking at the works The Big Friendly Giant, by Roald Dahl and some selected works such as, The Cat in the Hat and Horton Hears a Who by Dr. Seuss, one can see how their nonsense language and stories are used for a child’s development, enrichment of the English language and the understanding of the world around them. In this essay, I propose that Dr. Seuss and Roald Dahl, through the utilization of Nonsense, construct nonsensical characters and worlds, not to confuse but to teach and enlighten both children and adults about the moral aspects and possibilities of life, language, and learning.

I. Nonsense as a Literary Genre

The term nonsense is a bit confusing. Literary nonsense is not non-sense at all really. However, true non-sense as defined by the Oxford English Dictionary is “spoken or written words that have no meaning or make no sense.” (Oxford Dictionary of English) Furthermore, it is simply indiscriminate clamor; a tedious flow of information that holds no importance or meaning, like listening and watching static from a television channel containing no images. Dr. Seuss took literary nonsense to its apex. Dr. Seuss once said; 

I like nonsense; it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living It's a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope. Which is what I do, And that enables you to laugh at life's realities. (Seuss).

 His stories, containing a visual and fantastical world becomes somewhat rational within his narratives. A sort of consistent madness is seen in his stories. Seuss never wavers from his creations. If he creates a three headed person living in his home, he stays within the contextual frame of his story, where there would be three of everything. While there may be no Cats with hats and no Whos, if you can defer your uncertainty about those things, the story of Cat in the Hat and Horton Hears a Who will appear as sound as any other tale. 

Roald Dahl employs similar characteristics pertaining to the literary nonsense genre. In his work The Big Friendly Giant, or BFG for short, he creates a whole list of nonsense words called Gobblefunk;

As he was writing The BFG in the early-1980s, author Roald Dahl set about creating a new vocabulary for the story's enormous protagonist — a 238-word language that he ultimately named, "Gobblefunk." Words that made the cut included, "humplecrimp," "swallomp," "crumpscoddle," and, most memorably, "snozzcumber." (Usher 2012)

The reasons Gobblefunk was created is because it is useful in supporting the characteristics of the nonsensical worlds Dahl constructs in his stories. For those unfamiliar with the story of The BFG, it is about a young girl named Sophie who gets snatched up by a giant (The BFG) and taken to his home in Giant Country. The reader finds out that the BFG is the only good and benevolent giant in the world. He collects good dreams, where he later redistributes to children. When he comes across a nightmare he destroys it or uses it to start fights with the other giants. The other giants are ravenous and occasionally enter the human world to eat up “human beans,” especially children. Because the BFG refuses to involve himself in this, he ends up being a vegetarian where he survives on snozzcumbers (inspired by cucumbers), a fizzy drink called frobscottle with bubbles that travel downwards, which incidentally causes the drinker to break wind instead of burp, where passing gas is referred to as Whizzpoppers;

A whizzpopper!” cried the BFG, beaming at her. “Us giants is making whizzpoppers all the time! Whizzpopping is a sign of happiness. It is music in our ears! You surely is not telling me that a little whizzpopping if forbidden among human beans? (Dahl)

Humorously written, The BFG also offers a darker subtext. Characteristically for Dahl, one of the themes of the work is fighting against a greater foe using one’s intelligence and development. Sophie who is in command because of her wits and courage, and the adult figure, the BFG, carries out her imaginative plans. The same pattern, the friendship and collaboration of an intelligent child and a kind and gentle adult is recurrent in several of Dahls’s works. 

The narrow-mindedness and utter stupidity of adults are considered from the perspective of a giant and a child, and the actions of adults are seen in a humorous way. The only good adult is the Queen of England, who efficiently organizes the mission to capture the man-eating giants, and turns out to be a wise and warm person. Dahl creates a strong contrast between children and adults, where it is usually the children who come out on top. In his books, children are repeatedly left on their own to survive in the malicious world of callous and insensitive adults.

Nonsense literature adds a favorable twist: it promotes children to reflect on the natural world not as it is, but as it possibly can be.  Nonsense educates children the constructive mental tendency of not ruling anything out. Once a child had accepted the idea of a talking cat in a hat, an elephant that firmly believes in the existence of a microscopic society, and where a big and friendly giant helps children receive good dreams, they have taken a short step towards steering away from the development of a narrowing mind as we all may undergo as we reach adulthood.

II. Lessons Conveyed in Literature

Shifting focus back on Dr. Seuss, one can take away the same type of moral lessons that The BFG conveys. In Horton Hears a Who!, for example, Horton is an elephant with a good heart and sensitive ears who discovers the microscopic people, the Whos, on a fleck of dust when the inhabitants call out for help. He chooses to help and guard the Whos, but is ostracized from his community because they think he is insane. One of the more well known phrases from this story is, “a person is a person no matter how small,” (Seuss) which sends a clearly defined moral point to children readers. The tale, even though taking place in a world full of chatting animals, is about intangible ideologies such as open-mindedness in believing in something that you cannot see with your eyes, duty in protecting your beliefs, unkindness and distrust by others in making fun of what one may believe in, are all very relatable. 

The Cat in the Hat, being one of the more popular and well known of Dr. Seuss’ tales, is a story that is full of moral ideals and political significance. Dr. Seuss wrote this story keeping a child in mind, even though there are some heavy elements embedded within. As The Cat in the Hat begins, the first thing the reader learns is that the children are home alone. With the knowledge of being by themselves they have the notion that they may do as they please;

I sat there with Sally.

We sat there, we two.

And I said, “How I wish we had something to do!?”

Too wet to go out

And too cold to play ball.

So we sat in the house.

We did nothing at all. (Seuss 121)

Pondering how two small children, left alone in on a rainy day with nothing to do, can make one realize the temptations that will soon confront them. One of the several good things about Dr. Seuss is his ability to make you aware of a social problem in an entertaining fashion. Hence walks in the cat in the hat promising fun and many good activities. As he puts it, “I will show them to you, your mother will not mind at all if I do.” (Seuss 124) Dr. Seuss uses a goldfish to open up the mind of the reader. There are many temptations out in the world waiting to show children several things that are not good for them. One wonders how many times the youth of today are startled when a parent is informed about something that they should not be engaged in. Certainly, the percentage is greater now than ever before concerning children engaging themselves in the wrong activity because of a lack of adult supervision. 

It is when the fish is introduced that the reader can start to understand the moral implications behind the cat in the hat. “No! No!. Make that cat go away!” (Seuss 125)  The fish exclaims. The reader instantly realizes the voice of reason is through a tiny fish that is almost always dismissed. All while the cat in the hat continues to tempt the children in doing the things he knows their mother would not approve. The goldfish in the background continues to shout, “No, tell him to stop.” (Seuss 127) It is a wonder how Dr. Seuss understands the temptations most kids face when alone. 

In the same way Dr. Seuss configures his Cat in the Hat lore to his readers, Dahl typically in his stories uses a recurring theme about fighting someone superior, usually an adult figure. However, it may be difficult to pick out in the same breath, the motive for educating moral lessons to children. The BFG acts as a highly entertaining piece of wit and humor. In a sense, it is a typical fairy-tale drawing a distinct and clearly defined line between good and evil, where the heroes are grounded in goodness and righteousness, and the villains are on the opposite pole. 

III. Illustrations to Maintain the Context and World of Nonsense

Viewing the illustrations of Dr. Seuss and Roald Dahl, one can get a sense of nonsense in a more visual way. The depictions of people and animals are nothing close to anatomical likeness of anything real in the world. Even though many of Dr. Seuss’ characters are soft, fluffy, and at times adorable looking, they seem to have no skeletal structure. His material items seem to have a somewhat shaky connection with their environment. Plates and fish bowls poise in fifteen foot tall heaps, each piece wobbling out of place, the whole construction waiting for it to fall and break to pieces. Yet within each story, this madness is rational and unswerving, and never deceives its fictional context. Real world applications and physics may not by the number one attributable quality in these tales, but the tenets of Seuss physics do not waver.

As with Seuss, Roald Dahl implements nonsensical illustrations to further his message and convince his audience of what he is trying to convey through his tales. The BFG is a giant illustrated with large ears to hear far away dreams in hopes of catching them. It is of presupposition that one might think a giant to be some sort of monster; however his countenance is that of innocence and niceness. The illustrations by both works of Dr. Seuss and Dahl are not the best in portraying aesthetic conventions of what an adult might look for, but rather go much deeper in supporting their contextual worlds. As stated earlier, the most important quality of these stories are to maintain believability in the reader. A child must believe in a world that might not make sense in their reality and in doing so might be able to open their mind up to a host of other possibilities.

IV. Final Thoughts

Dahl’s and Seuss’s tales give rise to their own ideas perpetuating in them a state of authentic belief. Children readers will begin to genuinely believe that worlds that inhabit a race of beings living on a speck of dust, a cat in a hat that has with him “Things” that wreak havoc and cause trouble, and a world of giants that feed on human beans. In actively believing such tales could exist, the moral implications are also believed. Instead of a dull and weary world that adult stories sometimes convey, nonsensical stories will open up the mind and possibilities of children readers. The popularity of Dr. Seuss and Roald Dahl is not so surprising in that they make the most impossible things possible. The capacity to think sensibly about nonsense can transform the way, not only children, but all of us identify with the world. 

Works Cited

Dahl, Roald. Good Reads. 2012. http://www.goodreads.com/quotes/show/79884 (accessed 2012).

—. The BFG. London: Johnathan Cape, 1982.

Oxford. Oxford Dicctionary. 2012. http://oxforddictionaries.com/definition/nonsense?region=us&q=nonsense.

Seuss, Dr. The Quotations Page. http://www.quotationspage.com/quote/32247.html (accessed 2012).

—. Your Favorite Seuss. Toronto: Random House, 2004.

Usher, Shaun. Lists of Note. February 2012. http://www.listsofnote.com/2012/02/gobblefunk.html (accessed 2012).

The Answer to Ivan's Rebellion

The Brothers Karamazov, by Fyodor Dostoyevsky illustrates a grand scheme of characters embedded with careful development. Throughout the novel the reader is introduced to characters that inhabit specific roles that convey different experiences of human life. These experiences shed light on the deep psychological conceptions that are far reaching and can relate to almost all individuals living in this world. Ivan Fyodorovich Karamazov is one such character embroiled with inner conflict. The second son of Fyodor Pavlovich Karamazov, Ivan possesses an intellectual and logical mind. Through the irrationalities of how the world seems to Ivan, he battles with religious constructs that contradicts his “Euclidian understanding” (Dostoyevsky 220) of existence. Ivan’s rebellion, against the confines of a world made from God, causes him to give back his “entrance ticket.” (221) Ivan says he accepts God, yet cannot live in a world without justice for the innocent victims of evil men. The innocent victims he exemplifies are children:

Listen! If all must suffer to pay for the eternal harmony, what have children to do with it, tell me, please? It’s beyond all comprehension why they should suffer, and why they should pay for the harmony. (221)

The rationality of his argument that children should not suffer in a world full of adult sin because of their innate innocence, is a compelling one indeed. However, to confront a world with an attempt to rationalize horrific scenes, like a brutal murder of a small child, can send one into a depth of despair. As Ivan progresses throughout the novel, the reader sees a character full of doubt, guilt, belief, and disbelief. The question to which one agrees with Ivan’s worldview and the notion of “returning his ticket” is to be answered quite tragically.

            

The Grand Inquisitor prose poem is told by Ivan to illustrate a point to Alyosha. It also acts as a pivotal foreshadowing to Ivan’s character development. Furthermore, free will is an important aspect in reading this chapter. The Inquisitor explains to Christ that mankind should give up free will to be led to happiness:

They will understand themselves, at last, that freedom and bread enough for all are inconceivable together, for never, never will they be able to share between them! They will be convinced, too, that they can never be free, for they are weak, vicious, worthless, and rebellious. (229)

The Inquisitor explains further that man’s freedom will only lead to further despair and suffering. The message clearly stated is that men, with the heavy burden of free will, are much more harmful to their conscience than it is to be told what to believe and how to live one’s life. It seems fair to say that the Inquisitor has given up a central locus of Christianity’s message, spiritual free will. The temptations of mankind are too great to plunge into the freedom to believe or not to believe in God or to choose evil over good. Ivan, with the returning of his ticket, shares the same view as the Inquisitor.

            

 In comparing Ivan and the Inquisitor we see that they do not discard the belief in God outright; however they do reject the world God created that caused suffering of mankind. The Inquisitor is a figure that loves mankind so much that it exceeds his love for God. Ivan believes that only an unjust God will let children suffer thus undermining God’s will. Both make the conscious choice to suffer for what they believe to be true. Towards the end of the poem the Inquisitor awaits Christ’s response:

The old man longed for him to say something, however bitter and terrible. But he suddenly approached the old man in silence and softly kissed him on his bloodless aged lips. That was all his answer. The old man shuddered. (238)

There is no philosophical disagreement, just a soft kiss. The kiss is soon mimicked by Alyosha in response to Ivan’s argument. Both Christ and Alyosha give a response that counteracts the Inquisitor’s and Ivan’s rejection. Book VI, The Russion Monk, perhaps can give a clearer counter argument to Ivan’s Rebellion.

            

Where Ivan uses his logical reasoning to reject the constructs of Christianity, the parables of Zosima provides an appropriate contrast to his rejection. Perhaps the central message to the parables that the reader should focus on is the notion that, “everyone is responsible to all men for all men and for everything” (261), for that is the only true way to come to terms with the unjust suffering and free will of mankind. This passage comes from a subchapter entitled: 2. Notes of the Life of the Deceased Priest and Monk, the Elder Zosima, Taken from His Own Words by Alexey Fyodrovich Karamazov. In this subchapter Father Zosima’s brother, Markel is introduced. After a brief and close friendship with a “freethinking political exile” Markel began to reject his religion and God; “It was the beginning of Lent, and Markel would not fast, he was rude and laughed at it. “That’s all silly twaddle, and there is no God.”” (260). After Markel became seriously ill, his mother persuaded him to confess his sins and take sacrament. Shortly after, the reader sees a complete spiritual transformation in Markel. His love towards his family, servants, and neighbors grew enormously. No longer was he suffering, but triumphed in life even though he was gravely ill. The ideas of love and forgiveness for the spectrum of all mankind, both good and evil that Markel conveys during his short life is indeed an appropriate solution towards Ivan’s conflicted sense of God.

            

Further in the novel in Book XI, Chapter 9 entitled The Devil. Ivan’s Nightmare, the reader sees Ivan’s character come full circle into madness.  Ivan is confronted with the devil; a character conjured from his mind. The devil, in contrast with Christ in the Grand Inquisitor parable, is full of disorienting conversation and torments Ivan’s psyche, where Christ stood silent with a gentle smile. The appearance of the devil brings a question to fruition. Both the Grand Inquisitor and the devil spring up in Ivan’s mind. What is the significance of both figures inhabiting his psyche? An answer might be in Ivan’s wavering of belief and disbelief. The devil toys and torments Ivan, but in doing so has a motive; “As soon as you disbelieve in me completely, you’ll begin assuring me to my face that I am not a dream but a reality.” (600)  In throwing away belief and ushering in complete disbelief, the devil’s motive will be realized. That motive is creating a sense of hell on earth for Ivan.

           

The reader soon realizes that Ivan’s rebellion will be his downfall into a hell made real on earth. The devil’s torment is a careful approach into using Ivan’s intelligence and rationality against him; “My dear fellow, intelligence isn’t the only thing!” (596). The devil continues by saying, “For all their indisputable intelligence, men take this farce as something serious, and that is their tragedy. They suffer of course…but then they live, they live a real life, not a fantastic one, for suffering is life” (596). Ivan continues to denounce his belief in this apparition that appeared before him. Nearing the end, after the devil’s numerous anecdotes and stories he told Ivan, he concludes with one last statement; the statement being how mankind will eventually kill the belief in God ushering in a new phase of finite pleasures. Where there is no God and only darkness after life, “all things are lawful” (604). However, with all things lawful, and no sense for what is evil, true hell on earth will be realized.

           

Even though Ivan is plagued with the idea of how some suffer in this world unjustifiably, he cannot accept the old ways of thinking. He loses faith in God through not being able to forgive even though it contradicts rationality. He is unable to forgive even himself which perpetuates his disbelief and an actualization of hell. Conclusively, the more agreeable path to enriching one’s soul is to live a life that Father Zosima and Alyosha choose to live. Their leap of faith, although irrational and absurd in Ivan’s eyes, enriches them to find everlasting forgiveness and love. Love of all men is the ultimate answer to suffering and injustices that happen in this world. The belief of an afterlife like heaven seems to be a better approach in improving society and freeing individuals form a life of evil then disbelief because one cannot see justice before his own eyes. Ivan, the Inquisitor and those who choose suffering willingly on behalf of their own disbelief are catapulted into despair.

Works Cited

Dostoyevsky, Fyodor. The Brothers Karamazov. London: Dover, 2005.

The Mechanistic Being: A New Figure of the Post-Modern Era

The Mechanistic Being: A New Figure of the Post-Modern Era

 Speculative Fiction dystopias often reveal the anxieties humanity faces with the autonomous nature of scientific technologies. The clash and amalgamation of humanity and scientific technology is an ongoing discourse in fiction. Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner reveals the way in which humanity is confronted with the autonomous technology it created and has impressed conceptions of human consciousness. In analyzing the recurrences of one of the major themes, (implanted) memory, I will reveal an entity that humanity must concede as a particular human trait: human identity. In doing so, this essay will explore the ways in which machine and human becomes indiscernible, where an uncanny figure inhabiting characteristics from both comes to fruition.

Presently, artificial intelligence is a major autonomous technology. The advent of artificial intelligence has been fast approaching for years. In our society, the anxiety of a being other than human overcoming our intelligence is incomprehensible. In Blade Runner, Rick Deckard is responsible for the decommissioning of Nexus-6 replicants with enhanced features of physicality and intelligence. On the surface, the film portrays a dystopia where humanity is at odds with itself; however it also explores important philosophical questions concerning our post-modern consciousness and attitudes towards our own memories and identities. Memories are what shape us as individuals. As children we learn not to touch the stove because it is hot, we learn that an object falls to the ground if we let it go, but most of all we learn that our actions have consequences. Years of experience from the memories stored into our internal hard drives help us through making choices and discerning right from wrong. The replicants in Blade Runner, with memories implanted can be days old and still act and think of an adult mind. Rachel, a replicant with implanted memories, is introduced by Dr. Eldon Tyrell, of Tyrell Corp. as an experiment, and nothing more. Dr. Tyrell explains further;

We began to recognize in them, a strange obsession, after all they are emotionally inexperienced with only a few years in which to store up the experiences for which you and I take for granted. If we gift them with a past it creates a cushion to which we can control them better. (Scott 1982)

 Shortly after, Deckard is confronted by an anxious Rachel at his apartment. Rachel shows Deckard a picture, which in her eyes provides proof that she is not a replicant. Deckard reveals that she is in fact a replicant by recounting Rachel’s childhood memories, and telling her that they are implanted memories. He is shocked by Rachel’s emotional response, perhaps expecting a cold and barren reaction. Rachel’s implanted memories gave her the gift of feeling the ultimate experience of human life. Such an emotional response unique to humans begs the question; what makes an authentic human being?

 In contrast, Leon, a Nexus 6 replicant, where the audience is introduced to in the opening scene, is being tested by a Voight-Kampff empathy test. The test is engineered in such a way to provoke an emotional response in the subject. The final question the interviewer asks is about Leon’s mother, which in turn, Leon stands up and exclaims, “Let me tell you about my mother,” and shoots the interviewer in cold blood with a barren face, empty of any emotion. The emptiness in Leon can be viewed as a life without experience and memory; a life with no mother to think of. When we think of a murder in the context of our daily lives, separate from the film, we view them as monsters with no soul. The same idea is with Leon, except that he actually has no memory. Memory is an experience that can also shape our morals. Rachel saves Deckard’s life from Leon; where Leon, after seeing Deckard lay waste to one of the Nexus-6 replicants, Zhora, seeks immediate revenge. Primarily, the motivation that makes Leon such a ruthless individual can be one of the only emotions he holds; fear. As he is beating Deckard he exclaims, “Painful to live in fear isn’t it?” (Scott 1982)

 The replicants, as explained by Bryant, a police captain signing Deckard onto the assignment of taking care of the Nexus 6: “They were designed to copy human beings in every way, except their emotions. But the designers reckoned after a few years they might develop their own emotional responses: hate, love, fear, anger, envy.” (Scott 1982) A measure to defeat the emotional responses in being created to an exact likeness to humans, is a defect which gives the androids only 4 years of life. The response to non-human beings being able to feel and develop emotion is seen as dangerous. Rick Deckard, a somewhat unsympathetic character in the beginning of the film, is prompted to kill these replicants because of the danger they hold towards humanity. As the film progresses, the replicants are gifted with characteristics that hold them as tragic figures, seeking empathy from the audience. Concerning Roy Batty, the Nexus 6 who is the more capable at the end, is the most sympathized replicant in the film. The knowledge of his finite existence leads him on a frantic and mad path to live and cram as much living into his 4 year span as possible. With no “cushion” of implanted memory, Batty is faced with a looming death with no cause or purpose but is more than capable of every emotion. He has a strong desire to live. Towards the finale of the film, a bruised and beaten Deckard is faced by the last Nexus-6 he was commissioned to decommission, Roy Batty:

 I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser gate. All those moments will be lost in time... like tears in rain... Time to die. (Scott 1982)

Batty’s last words are surrounded by beautiful music and imagery. Batty recounts his memories in a beautiful monologue. His tears are hidden from the drops of rain. Emotions plague this synthetic being; Emotions which stem from memories. But how can artificial intelligence have such an effect? It’s through Batty that the audience can see a possibility of new partialities. He is extremely intelligent, poetic, and callous. Roy is not a static character. Unlike Rachel, he delights himself as one without implanted memory. In Tyrell Corp, when confronting his maker, Tyrell tells him that his looming death is inevitable. Roy remarks that he has done “terrible things” through his search for prolonging his life, suggesting further, his knowledge of moral human behavior. Seeing Roy as a robot is entirely subjective at the end. The audience delights in his human-like character. Roy is a figure seen with the amalgamation of both the fear of death, and the triumph of life, particular human qualities.

 At several instances in the film the audience sees emotional outbursts from the replicants. From Leon, we see his fear of death when he is beating down Deckard. Pris and Roy are seen as lovers. Roy, much more than the other replicants, is shown to have the most possibility of humanistic characteristics. The connections he makes with the other replicants and human characters alike shape him to be much more than a barren and unfeeling figure. However this is not the only significant character in blending human/replicant consciousness.

 A poignant and uncanny moment in the film is the connection between Deckard and Rachel. There is something that is much more than physical attraction going on between the two characters. This is a significant revelation in eliminating anything that can be discernible between replicant and human. At the end of the film, after the battle with Roy, Deckard returns to Rachel. They both say that they love and trust each other. They have feelings, emotions, and memories which link them to each other. These memories could not be added by a program or a computer chip. Even though implanted memories are placed in Rachel, there is something much more going on within her than programming and circuitry. When Rachel and Deckard are both leaving, Deckard finds a unicorn origami made by Gaff. His dream sequence earlier in the film seems to suggest that Gaff knows about this hidden memory which reveals the question; is Deckard a replicant also? But it also adds some commentary. What are the important differences between a replicant and a human? If a replicant can have memories, feel emotions, and make attachments to other conscious and feeling beings, do the differences really matter? Does the question of Deckard’s love for Rachel act as a metaphor for humanity and technology? It could be so. The approach of technological advents through history shows us how it can shape mankind’s mind, culture, and society. In the film, it is finalized with the question concerning our own mechanized selves and our relationship towards scientific technologies.

 In dealing with the continual consolidation of replicant and human, it may be easy to get lost in distinguishing both. However there are some instances in the film that remind the audience that the replicants are still robots and not human. Their eyes glow in the dark, which is one of the only visual and physical distinguishable characteristics. When the frame shows the replicants in shadow, their eyes have an eerie glow to them, almost like seeing reflective mirrors within their skulls, that might suggest a mirror image of the human when viewing the replicants. When Deckard kills some of the replicants, their deaths provide further imagery that they are replicants. When Zhora is fleeing from Deckard, she is shot in the back several times. She begins to crash through displays containing lifeless mannequins. She soon joins the mannequins in the state of the display. Pris dresses up as one of J.F. Sebastian’s toy robots. When Deckard infiltrates Sebastian’s home his search ends up in a room full of toy robots and dolls, including Pris. Deckard finds it difficult to distinguish Pris at first, but then ends up being physically handled by her. Her death comes from gunshot wounds to the abdomen, which results in her shaking uncontrollably. Her violent shaking also gives the audience a picture of a non-humanistic death. The strength of the replicants is also a major discernible difference between replicant and human. Leon, Pris, Zhora, and Roy Batty all possess superhuman qualities. The importance of reminding the audience that the replicants are in fact machines, seems to give a message that the viewer might forget that they are watching artificial beings.

 Considering how the identities of each character start developing, a major cause for concern for the replicants; Roy Batty, Leon, Pris, and Zhora, is a great fear of death. The significance of life is shared by both the replicants and humans. Gaff’s message, “It’s too bad she won’t live! But then again, who does?” (Scott 1982) which reverberates through Deckard’s mind, is an important notion of how life is portrayed in the film. The commonly used term, “my whole life flashed before my eyes” concerning near death experiences, usually provides an individual insight about the significance of life. The knowledge of a finite end gives the replicants an overwhelming sense of self-preservation, which relates to what most humans feel when confronted with their own mortality. With Roy, Leon, Pris, and Zhora, we can assume that they did not have the “cushion” of implanted memories installed, but they still have a great need to keep living. Do memories really matter when it concerns the mortality of any being? Throughout this film where memories are such a central theme, it can be difficult to discern the differences between implanted and authentic memories. With replicants, having already the visual image of the human being, one thing would separate us from them; human emotion and identity.

The motive for technological progress is to lengthen our reach of our own mechanized selves. Machines, robots, androids, or replicants are the last frontier in achieving a form of technology that represents us. The debate over what is at stake is retiring our own special qualities that make us unique. Seeing replicants in Blade Runner inhabit the role of the human fills us with the anxiety of our retreat from the mystery of our consciousness and beckons an end of a specific frontier of technological achievement.

 Discoveries in science have continually, over the past few centuries, debunked the specialness of the human. Mankind has been gradually retreating from this specialness. Some landmarks of our retreat include acceptance of the facts that the Earth is no longer the center of the universe, humans and animals have common ancestors, DNA and the mechanism of life means humans and yeast are quite similar, logical human reasoning is the same as computation and fits on machines, biochemistry shows that we are a collection of tiny machines, and human flesh can be made subject by technological manipulation. What is at stake in giving up our specialness? 

Works Cited
Blade Runner: Final Cut. Directed by Ridley Scott. 1982.