Tuesday, 19 June 2012

African Autobiography: The Journey to Identity

Image Detail



            African Autobiographies constitute an incredible and exciting genre that gives important and enlightening insights into African society and culture. From Antije Krog’s “Country of My Skull” to Sindiwe Magona’s “To My Children’s Children,” African autobiographies provide fascinating and unique perspectives on the author’s journey to gain identity.  Whether it’s Sindiwe Magona’s dynamic experience with religion, Antije Krog’s development in her womanhood, or the great impact of Wole Soyinka’s family on his development, these timeless life-stories open the gateway to the soul of each author and take readers on an incredible journey.  Though the works vary greatly, all include many stories revealing the process of the authors maturing and becoming solid and confident in who they are as their environments sculpt and mold them, forming their identities.

            Religious experience formed a very important part of each of these writer’s lives and is reflected in their books. Whether it’s Sindiwe Magona’s return to her beliefs in a crisis (156), Antije Krog’s inspiration from Christians around her (209), or Shiri Maraire’s powerful description of the kindling of her faith (181), the spiritual influenced the steps of each of these authors in a variety of ways. Leigh Gilmore, in her writings on women’s expression in autobiography, stated on the formation of beliefs and religious development, “Autobiography names the repeated invocation of an ideological formation that comes to seem natural-that is, in the simplest terms, that autobiography is what men write, and what women write belongs to some “homelier” and minor traditions (Gilmore 2).” In these lines, Gilmore captures the significance of beliefs as the writers of these works constantly reiterate, whether voluntarily or involuntarily, their worldviews as they incorporate their ideologies into their books.

            One of the most powerful kind of exposure to the spiritual is when an ordinarily doubtful individual is, through a crisis or harrowing situation, brought back to the beliefs he or she grew up with; such is the case with Sindiwe Magona. In her younger years, Sindiwe tended to look on Christianity through a critical and often hostile lens (Magona 106). In the first chapter, she states that Sundays were “subdued sorry dull days in which the possibility of any fun was effectively erased (Magona 13).” She also accuses Christians of being “condemnatory and judgmental: a group that finds it very difficult to forgive the frailty of others (Magona 106).” Looking back on church, she states, “ The reluctant memories of Sundays that I carry are as uninspiring as the singing I suffered through (Magona 14).” and, “If I learnt anything in church, it was how certainly I was doomed to burn in hell (14).” Later in the book, after Sindiwe has become pregnant out of wedlock, she speaks of the missionaries’ vain ignorance of sex in their education, stating, “Natural urges refused to succumb to civilization or Christianity (Magona 97).” Finally, at her wit’s end, without money, food, or hope, Sindiwe turns to the church in desperation, and there, after praying, receives strength from God and returns to her home with a new resolve (Magona 156). Thus, after many years of rejecting Christianity, Sindiwe finally gains back her faith and moves on with the strength that only God can give.

            No less enlightening is Wole Soyinka’s interaction with religion. Soyinka writes about a situation in which the local religion is a complete hybrid as Christian beliefs mix with the Yoruba ways (Soyinka 9). One of Wole’s quotes excellently sums up the confusion of his family’s hybridized beliefs when he says, after telling a story about an egungun who used his powers to destroy a church (Soyinka 9), “Perhaps this was what Wild Christian meant by faith, and this tended to confuse things because, after all, the egungun did make the church building collapse. Wild Christian made no attempt to explain how that happened, so that feat tended to be of the same order of faith which moved mountains or enabled Wild Christian to pour ground nut oil into a bottle from a broad-rimmed bowl without spilling a drop (Soyinka 9).” Another of Wole’s encounters with the supernatural is when his mother tells him of his uncle Sanya who was an oro (Soyinka 9). In one of her stories about Sanya, he became feverishly ill through what was believed to be the an evil spirit that would have killed him if not for the intervention of a Christian friend of the family who quickly had them make a large dinner and leave it with Sanya to sate the spirit’s appetite (Soyinka 10-11). Wole Soyinka’s bewilderment at religion is not surprising as he attempts to forge a stable identity in a culture where beliefs are so mixed that a completely new and distinctive belief system is created.

            Antije Krog, though not appearing to be a very religious person, is greatly influenced by the acts of the Christian people around her (Krog 209). Throughout “Country of My Skull,” the works of Bishop Desmond Tutu have a profound affect, not only on the proceedings of the Truth Commission (Krog 201), but on Krog, herself, as he is a constant symbol of steadfast faith amidst a chaotic tempest brought on by the horrors of Apartheid (201). Regarding his actions in the Truth Commission, Krog sums her view on Tutu, saying, “ Whatever role others might play, it is Tutu who is the compass (Krog 201).” Finally, after Tutu is taken to the hospital for cancer tests (Krog 202), she states, “This wonderful man in whose presence I always experience humanity at its fullest-humanity as it was meant to be. This man who has made sense for us of the tortuous process of dealing with the truth by illuminating it with insight, humor, and hope (203).” Ultimately, Krog’s development, as it related to religion, is furthered when she interviews Joe Mamasela, a notorious perpetrator of crimes under the Apartheid regime (Krog 226). During their interview, Mamasela talks about his faith and reconciliation with God, despite his sins and how he has become an active member of the church and is even bringing in new converts (Krog 227). It is easily apparent that Krog’s exposure to Christianity had a powerful effect on her as she absorbed the radiance of God’s love through the faithful around her.

            Finally, Shiri Maraire had many encounters with religious beliefs that significantly influenced her worldview. In the majority of her book, Shiri keeps her beliefs in the background. Though she attends church and makes references to God on a number of occasions, it is not till much later that her faith is finally rekindled when, after a trip to see relatives, Shiri goes to a chapel where her life is changed forever (Maraire 181). “I stopped in my tracks, too. I had been to thousands of glorious cathedrals and churches abroad with spiraling towers and Gothic proportions, yet none struck me as beautiful as this humble little chapel. Never had I seen black angels (Maraire 181).” She then says, “I looked away so you wouldn’t see the tears in my eyes. Inside, too, was full of Africans: John the Baptist, standing dark and strong in the river, blessing and preaching to the masses; Moses with his long white beard looked a little like Babamukuru, with his wide nose flaring, and the curls of his Afro looked as if they had a life of their own as he put fourth God’s commandments. Then there was the scene that caused me to sit in the nearest pew and gaze in wonder. There was Jesus Christ Himself, with wavy black hair, skin of brown earth, and deep clay eyes that looked down at me with such a pitying smile. They seemed to say, Where have you been? I have been here all this time waiting for you (Mararie182).” and, “There was God Himself in my own image and not the image of my oppressors. I dropped to my knees. Here was the God I had been searching for. Not the Teutonic God that I had been told to worship for all of these years at missionary schools. Who had deprived me of this vision? This God knew me. His cross was my cross. His people were my people, Mary, Joseph, Peter, Mark, and John-all black like me (182)!” After this powerful incident, Shiri’s worldview is changed as she goes on with life bearing a new faith that guides her steps (Maraire 183).

            Another part of African writings that makes them so unique is their attitude toward their own nations and societies. Many Africans lived in situations where their cultures were mixed with Western traditions through colonialism and, thus, their feelings toward their cultures are very distinctive.

            Sindiwe Magona’s Perspective toward South African traditions, unlike her Christian faith, which undergoes a long process of development, remains uncertain as some of the Xhosa ways are rejected while others are embraced. Though she fondly looks back upon nights listening to iintsomi and stories from Xhosa folklore (Magona 5), her other experiences, among them being the dreaded incisions, in which a witch doctor repeatedly cut her and her brother in order to allow evil to seep out (53), prevent her from positively reflecting on her encounters with traditional Xhosa beliefs. However, despite her negative view on some of the more bizarre and painful parts of Xhosa tradition, she happily embraces many of the rituals her family enacts. For instance, the scraping of the pot, an activity in which an elder family member scratched a pot over a fire to find out how many suitors the person in question would have based on the number of sparks that flew from the metal (Magona 6), is looked back upon with a longing for those days of childish simplicity. Sindiwe also writes about her rite of passage, an experience that solidified her transition to adulthood, which entailed her traveling with her father to a farm to purchase a heifer (Magona 62) that was slaughtered and, subsequently prepared for a feast to celebrate Sindiwe’s maturing (64). During the exciting evening, the women of her clan impart their advice to Sindiwe, saying, “My child, a good daughter pleases the parents. Your parents are very proud of you, Mind never to disgrace the Magona name. Mind never to disgrace the Tolo clan. Remember, a good wife is like a good daughter to a husband. She is also like a loving mother to him. We are all proud of you. Continue with school and learn so that when we are old, we will have someone who can help us; someone to lean on (Magona 64).” The Xhosa traditions, though containing some unsavory practices, were an influential part of Sindiwe’s life and aided her immeasurably in becoming confident in herself and her abilities to succeed.

            “Ake: The Years of Childhood” shows another culture of Arica that plays a pivotal role in guiding a young person’s process of maturing. Wole grew up in an environment where Yoruba tradition mingled with modern Western technology leading to odd variations between the two. For instance, Soyinka writes about the different medications ranging from roots and other mysterious items sold by witches and modern medication that came in “neatly labeled bottles (43),” saying, “Often, both forms of remedies were administered together, or took turns from day to day (43).” The disciplinary style of the culture that Wole was raised in also showed a distinctly African side as small crimes are harshly punished with heavy beatings (92) while especially heinous deeds warrant humiliating parades (87). In one especially horrifying example, a local sixteen-year-old girl is herded around town by her mother with her sleeping mat on her head as she informs the entire populace of the village of her daughter’s bed-wetting habit (Soyinka 87). The power of these disciplinary techniques, though they proved to be affective in fostering obedience in children, seems trivial compared to another event. It was not long before Wole was to enter Government College (Soyinka 142) when his father invited a witch doctor in the middle of the night to prepare Wole for his great undertaking (145). After receiving instructions to from his father to remain silent, Wole is approached by the witch doctor who, taking a knife coated in a mysterious substance, begins slashing Wole’s wrists and ankles in a painful ritual that proves to be a symbol of Wole’s coming of age (Soyinka 146). Following this, his father tells him of the benefits of the incisions, among them, the power that he will always win his third fight, no matter how tough the opponent (Soyinka 148). An extract from Ruth Lindeborg’s dissertation on the politics in “Ake: The Years of Childhood” gives a clear perspective on how culture affected Wole when she states, “Engendered by the communal mother of the women’s march and the patriarchal words of Daodu, the principle of Abeokuta Grammar School, the Wole born at the end of “Ake” is both individual and community in confrontation with African and European symbols of imperial rule (Lindeborg 55). This elaborates the mixture of cultures as Wole is influenced by the community-focused efforts of his mother while his father endears him to a more individual way of life, making Wole into a unique hybrid who reflects the different facets of his own culture. Ultimately, the society in Ake, though confusing, provided an excellent environment in which Wole flourished and matured into manhood.

            Antije Krog experienced a culture in turmoil as the people of South Africa were left to pick up the pieces left by Apartheid and rebuild a nation. From the beginning, the Truth Commission was plagued by technical problems (Krog 14), conflict (6), and painful accounts that put great mental stress on all parties involved (51). The scars of racism refused to be forgotten as they held their dying influence with a lasting power. A number of quotes capture the racist taint of this period. In one instance, Krog’s brother says, “ When Mandela was talking about white and black morality, how whites only care when whites die, he should have added: blacks don’t care if whites die… but what is worse, they also don’t care if blacks die (Krog 17).” Later, a friend of Krog’s says, in response to Krog’s question of the definition of lying,  “I don’t know. But what I do know is that I grew up with the notion that stealing from whites is actually not stealing. Way back, Africans had no concept of stealing other than taking cattle as a means of contesting power. But you whiteys came and accused us of stealing-while at that very same minute you were stealing everything from us (Krog 18)!” All of the chaos of the Truth Commission became an defining part of Krog’s life as it is reflected in her jerky, confusing, and aptly fitting writing-style that truly capture the proceedings of the Commission and turns the work into something much more immersive than the average collection of memoirs.

            Autobiographies from Africa possess very unique ideals of womanhood as the authors each share their distinctive perspective on, in some cases, themselves as women and the other important female family members and friends who had powerful affects on their development.

            On the subject of womanhood, “Ake: The Years of Childhood” sets the standard as Wole’s portrait of the female ideal is one of great strength and endurance (Soyinka 193). It quickly becomes clear to the reader that Wole’s mother is a very independent soul as she manages her own shop (Soyinka 29) and is revered among the other women of the village as they seek advice and wisdom from her (87). Much later, Wild Christian and her women’s group begin to make decisions that summon the winds of change and bring about a cultural shift that illustrates the power of women in influencing their society (Soyinka 180). First, the group decides to begin teaching other women to read and write at the suggestion of Daodu, a frequent visitor to the women’s meetings, when he says, “Do you know the real trouble with aroso? They are illiterate. They don’t know how to read or write, that is why they get exploited (Soyinka 181).” After this, the women go a step further by deciding to rebel against the oppressive measures being taken to tax them (Soyinka 183). Printing leaflets (198) and giving speeches (185), the women’s revolution against taxes continues to escalate in intensity until, finally, the women go to the Alake and Wild Christian confronts him, saying, “Kabiyesi, over this matter, I wish to implore you to reflect very carefully. Very carefully. The women are saying, No more taxes. It is no time to begin asking whether taxation began with our forefathers or not. Our women today, those women we meet every day, they are the ones we are talking about. They cannot afford the tax (209).” Despite the good intentions of all the women, violence erupts and Wild Christian shows her courage and values when she protects one of the ogboni despite all of the oppression of his kind and speaks to the mob of women wanting to take him, saying, “I don’t know this man, one of you can go inside and ask him. At the most, I only know two or three ogboni, so don’t think I am protecting him because he is my ibatan. But I do not like trouble, I don’t like all this violence. It is not what we set out to do (Soyinka 215).” “Ake: The Years of Childhood” has a vision of womanhood that exhibits fearless tenacity and a belief in the power to change one’s own destiny, while holding to one’s ideals with an unrivaled strength, making Wole Soyinka’s writings both insightful and unique.

            Sindiwe Magona also had distinctive experiences as she came to accept her identity as a woman and mother. In one instance she looks back upon her self-conscious feelings of inferiority and ugliness when she quotes a devastating conversation she had with her well-meaning father, in which he said, “When you were born, I took one look at you and fled behind the hut (Magona 76).” Though haunted by this incident throughout her adolescence, all feelings of unappealing looks are dispelled by the advent of her relationship with Luthando (75), a young man whom she describes as being “tall, well-built, and strikingly good-looking (75).” Moreover, Sindiwe states the impact of Luthando on her self-worth saying, “I was no longer in doubt about my femininity or desirability (76).” Later, when Sindiwe is working as a maid, she speaks of the encouragement she received from the other women who rode the same bus as her, saying, “The configurations vary, but the basic ingredients are the same: on bus or train, the passengers traveling daily on the same route begin to group themselves. In these informal structures, the domestic workers air their grievances, share strategies, joke about a starkly harsh and brutal work environment, and console one another; thus fortified, they advance to tackle their individual loads (Magona 128).” Through this reinforcement and the combined efforts of aunt Dathini’s constant encouragement and optimism (Magona 146) and her mother’s loving support (105), Sindiwe survives her hardships and finds her peace, saying in the book’s last lines, “By now I understood that I was part of the stream of life-a continuous flow of those who are still alive, and the spirits, our ancestors. I knew I would never be alone. Know this too, child of the child of my child…you are not alone (Magona 167).”  Thus, after much struggle, Sindiwe, through the support of the women around her, finds her way and gains strength in her womanhood as she imparts her timeless revelation on to her granddaughter.
           
Shiri Maraire’s accounts of her influential family members of the female gender shows women who are intelligent, headstrong, and tenacious. Throughout the book, wise words are bestowed upon Shiri by her mother (Maraire 39) and other women (43). For instance, she speaks of a time when her mother stated after Shiri had told her that she intended to take her mother on an exciting journey to see the world, “Your words are your deeds. There is no place in a woman’s world for your foolish fancies (Maraire 39),” aptly illustrating the cultural situation in Africa in which women comprised an invaluable part of daily life as they took on the many of the roles traditionally associated with men, such as working the family farms (13) and entering the military in which Shiri describes them, saying, “They were women of a new generation who wore trousers like men and could aim just as steady (168),” and, “These women, too, fashioned their own identity. They were feared and admired, for in battle, it was rumored that the women could be the fiercest of them all. The Rhodesians called them bobcats because the Shona women were as fierce as lions (169).” In another part of the book, on the eve of her wedding, Shiri is visited by her mother-in-law to-be who makes Shiri feel her wrinkled face, saying, “These are the marks of life. My face, just as it is, the map of my toils and joys, is as precious to me as your little waist and your rounded breasts are to you. This is a testimony of the love I have given to my family. There is not a mark here that is my own. It belongs to Baba va Tapiwa, Chipo, Farai, Tawona, and Ziyanai. It is a body of love. You see it as an old, dry, lifeless thing, but one day you will understand that each beauty has its season (Maraire 43).” And later she continues, stating, “ You will make my son happy, I know, and you will be a daughter we can be proud of (Maraire 45).” These moving testimonies to the strength of the women in Shiri’s life are both powerful and touching, lending an inspiring tone to the work.

Shiri also writes about the women who failed to meet their potential and instead descended into mediocrity. In one case, Mukoma Byron, Shiri’s westernized cousin, brings his wife to Rhodesia (Maraire 51). Shiri immediately labels Mukoma’s wife, the wisp (Maraire 52) and describes her, saying, “She was nervous and wore long flowery dresses that matched her complexion and hung on her in a flimsy, shapeless way, like clothes pinned on the line to dry (56).” She also becomes disgusted by the woman’s weakness through a number of situations. For instance, Mukoma asks Shiri to summon his mother, who is very ill, so his frail wife doesn’t have to suffer “the strain and fatigue of the rural areas (Maraire 54).” She later describes the woman’s “layers of sunscreen and creams that lay in her armamentarium against infection and injury (Maraire 62).” In another part of the book, she recalls how during her teenage years, a woman named Rudo often came to their house to seek safety from her abusive husband (Maraire 170). After Rudo goes home following one of her “visits,” Shiri’s sister, Linda, launches into a verbal assault on the shamefulness of Rudo, saying, “Sisi Rudo can get up and leave that beast. Instead, she fixes herself up every Sunday to pray for strength to endure his blows. Then she comes her every month to snivel all night and get a clean bath (Maraire 172-173), and after some discussion, “Yes, thank God I still have a heart. It is Sisi Rudo who has lost hers. She has given up hope and become helpless. She is a disgrace to all women (174).” This harsh statement from Linda precisely exemplifies the concept of the African woman in Shiri’s view, who does not bend her knee to circumstances and instead makes her own path.

            Though “Country of My Skull” bears an acute deficiency of warmth and beauty amidst a sea of evil, Antije Krog does show her feminine side in a number of rare instances, chiefly among them when her husband tells her, “ You always return to me… and I never recover from you (Krog 357).” She then describes her own feelings, writing, “My bones catch fire. I grab his slippery wrist. My skin will never forget him, my first love (Krog 358).” Krog also describes her exposure to the brave testimonies of women at the Truth Commission: a pivotal experience in her search for self-identity (Krog 235). Thenjiese Nthintso, the chairperson of the Gender Commission, states as the women’s hearings begin, “ As women speak, they speak for us who are too cowardly to speak. They speak for us who are too owned by pain to speak (235).” Thus, emphasizing the courage exhibited by the many female victims of the evil of in South Africa under Apartheid. Later, Krog tells of the shortage of testimonies from rape victims due to the terrible psychological circumstances of these victims of abuse (Krog 239). However, a number of brave women stand up for the sake of justice and to expose the wickedness of their captors to the world despite the terrifying intimidation of telling incidents of such an intimate nature (Krog 236). One story in particular, shows a woman’s kindness and compassion that remain unbroken by the unthinkable horrors they are exposed to (Krog 245). Deborah Matshoba, after undergoing severe beatings (Krog 244), a lice-filled cell (244), and food that defied the definition of disgusting (245), tells the commission of how she broke through the hard shell of her wardress when, after hearing a tear-filled exchange between the woman and her boyfriend she refused to leave her cell until the woman agreed to talk to her, saying, “I heard your boyfriend saying that he is going to Kaitmo Mulilu and you will not see him for a long time. Who is he going to fight there? You see, you are in the same position as me. He is going to die at the border and it’s my brothers and sisters who will kill him. Maryna, why do you allow that (245)?”After this, the two talk and encourage one another (Krog 245), showing a woman’s ability to find the nobler side of herself despite the indefinably harsh situations that strip people of their humanity. After saying this, Krog describes the power of Deborah’s testimony, “The Truth Commission venue is silent. No one wants to interrupt this story of the power of women who care, endlessly. The moment surpasses all horror and abuse (Krog 245).” This account’s rendering of silence on the Truth Commission reveals the power of women during its proceedings and leaves a lasting imprint on Krog as she moves on, inspired in her womanhood.

Truly, the autobiographies that have come from Africa are a great credit to African literature as a whole and to the genre of autobiography.  No matter whether it’s Krog’s jerky-yet-effective style involving flashback and the switching of perspectives, Wole Soyinka’s innocent memories of childhood that allow the reader to experience his sense of wonder and curiosity at the world around him, or Sindiwe Magona’s development through “losses, lacks, and lapses,” each book shows a similar pattern of development in the authors as factors surrounding them shape and model them into something completely unique. These honest accounts possess a powerful effect as they show universal truths of identity that have great relevance to the reader, no matter what his background. Their personal and often intimate styles allow for the complete immersion of the reader in the separate worlds of Sindiwe Magona, Antije Krog, Wole Soyinka, and J. Nozipo Maraire, all of whom are masters at conveying their amazing life experiences in styles that are personally fitting and emotionally driven.




Works Cited

Magona Sindiwe. “To My Children’s Children.” Northampton, Massachusetts:
            Interlink Books, 2006.

Krog Antije. “Country of My Skull.” New York:
            Three Rivers Press, 1998.


Soyinka Wole. “Ake: The Years of Childhood.” New York:
            Vintage International, 1981.

Maraire J. Nozipo. “Zenzele: A Letter for My Daughter.” New York:
            Dell Publishing, 1996.

Lindeborg, R.H. “Is this Guerrilla Warfare?: The nature and strategies of the political subject in Wole Soyinka’s Ake.” Research in African Literatures 21(4),                          Winter 1990:55
           

Gilmore, Leigh.“Autobiographies: A Feminist Theory of Women’s Self-Representation. Ithaca and London: Cornel University Press, 1990.

Wednesday, 22 February 2012

Lessons in the Art of Horror: Young Goodman Brown



Known for his pivotal novel, "The Scarlett Letter," and the short stories, "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow" and "Rip Van Winkle," Nathanael Hawthorne is one of American Literature's most versataile writers. This artistic flexibility is one of the traits that American authors have repeatedly manifested in their displays of subjective diversity, as seen in Mark Twain's randomnly amusing short stories, Poe's nightmarishly unique tales of "The Grotesque," and, more modernly, Stephen King's ability to inject fear into, quite literally, anything. Hawthorne's possession of this trait was proven many times in his writings, however, one of the most excitng is seen in the finesse with which he weaves a tale of terror using one of mankind's deepest insecuriteis in the story, "Young Goodman Brown."

Hawthorne begins the tale by setting the scene in an idyllic Puritan colony, describing the seemingly mundane routines of the community, children playing, the minister walking to his church, and other small details. Slowly, Hawthorne’s vision zooms in on Young Goodman Brown, a loving husband who matches the community’s unremarkable image. However, Brown’s impending journey offers the opportunity for something more interesting than the innocent monotony of the Puritan village. Bidding goodbye to his wife, Brown sets off towards his undisclosed location. It isn’t long before he meets an unusual personage in the form of a man whose features bear an unusual similarity to Brown’s.  Through his conversation with this other man, Brown begins to unravel the truth, that being that this individual is in fact, the devil himself, a reality that is reinforced by the character’s black serpent staff. Unfortunately, the terror is only beginning as the devil begins to render Brown’s reality asunder, beginning by saying, “I have been as well acquainted with your family as with ever a one among the Puritans; and it’s not a trifle to say. I helped your grandfather, the constable when he lashed the Quaker woman so smartly through the streets of Salem; and it was I that brought your father a pitch-pine knot, kindled at my own hearth, to set fire to an Indian village, in King Philip’s war. They are my good friends both.” The Devil then implores Brown to join him on the path traveled by his forefathers. Brown then refutes the Devil, saying, “We are a people of prayer, and good works to boot, and abide no such wickedness.” However, Brown’s faith begins to shake as the Devil reveals his next revelation, replying, “Wickedness or not, I have a very general acquaintance here in New England. The deacons of many a church have drunk the communion wine with me; the selectmen of divers towns make me their chairman; and a majority of the Great and General Court are firm supporters of my interest.” Continuing in this increasingly nightmarish situation, Brown begins to notice the people of his village moving onward toward whatever foul destination the devil has planned for them. Ultimately, the story climaxes when Brown is brought to the meeting place in the middle of a dark forest where he sees his entire village, including his wife, eagerly awaiting his initiation into their malevolent ranks, a prospect that Brown desperately denies, calling on heaven to release him from the devil’s grasp. And with that, everything is restored to its original form, the village moving along as always, nothing appearing amiss. However, Brown’s faith in man is left in ruins after his experience, turning him into a bitter man who lives on in a state of complete disconnect from all those he once held dear, the story ending with a description of his funeral, saying, “They carved no hopeful verse upon his tombstone, for his dying hour was gloom.”

Culturally, the state of horror has fallen to a low of near unprecedented scale as writers and filmmakers have forgotten the richness that once pervaded works of the unsettling. However, it is in the light of this abysmal state that makes Hawthorne’s work so excellent as it shows the true potential that once was fully harnessed by the great authors of old. “Young Goodman Brown’s” true strength lies in its emphasis on the universally held fear that perhaps everyone else is divergent and that one is completely alone in this life, doomed to be forever forlorn. Hawthorne uses this concept of complete estrangement from the world to its maximum potential through the utilization of colorful symbolism, most notably seen in Brown’s wife. It is immediately apparent that her name, Faith, represents Brown's confidence in the mankind. Adding to this is the prevalence of Faith's ribbons, the story's metaphor for innocence, something that Brown discovers to be a lie. However, up until the point of that revelation, it is the purity that Faith's ribbons represent that gives Brown the foundation upon which he roots his faith, possibly alluding to the Bible's repeated warnings against placing one's confidence in man over God. Finally, nearing his dark destination Brown hears his wife in the forest as she too moves toward the Devil's gathering, prompting him to desperately call out to her, even as her voice is swept away, leaving dead silence, and from this silence comes the turning point in Brown's journey, "But something fluttered lightly down through the air and caught on the branch of a tree. The young man seized it, and beheld a pink ribbon. "My faith is gone!" cried he, after one stupefied moment. "There is no good upon earth and sin is but a name." Thus, the story's nightmare is twofold, on one side rests Brown's doom to be completely alone in this life, the other being his total loss of faith,  cursed to live in a state of hopeless despair, a terrifying scenario that Hawthorne skillfully weaves with delicate symbolism and precise pacing.


It's seems almost almost a pity that Hawthorne didn't exercise his incredible talent for horror more in his writings as his work in "Young Goodman Brown" indicates a level precision that could have rivaled Poe.  However, this makes "Young Goodman Brown" all the more special as Hawthorne's lone masterpiece of terror.  The interposition of stark symbolism and a psychological narrative, all forged under the backdrop of a universally held fear impart a level of artistic mastery to Hawthorne that is almost unprecedented. 



Thursday, 9 February 2012

Deathly Musings: Phaedo

     
        Universally hailed as one of the hellenistic world's most ingenious scholars, Plato never ceases to amaze through his timeless dialogues and thought-provoking conclusions to some of mankind's most perplexing questions. Of his works, "Phaedo" is one of the deeper writings, delving directly into the themes of death, the afterlife, and the nature of the soul, topics that are interposed with the narrative of Socrates' final dialogue before his drinking of the Hemlock.

        One of the immediately apparent subjects in "Phaedo" is naturally death, as Plato describes Socrates' friends gathering for a final meeting with the beloved philosopher on the appointed day of his execution. Socrates quickly delves into the nature of death, concluding that death is not something to be feared, rather, it is something to be embraced as it represents the complete severing or freeing of the pure soul from the base and carnal nature of the body, exemplified when Socrates states, "For the body is a source of endless trouble to us by reason of the mere requirement of food; and also is liable to diseases which overtake and impede us in the search after truth: and by filling us as full of loves, and lusts, and fears, and fancies, and idols, and every sort of folly, prevents our ever having, or as people say, so much as a thought." Continuing this, Socrates states how, having lived a productive and good life, he can now look forward to a similar afterlife, saying, "Will you not allow that I have as much of the spirit of prophesy as the swans? For they, when they perceive that they must die, having sung all their life long, do sing more than ever, rejoicing in the thought that they are about to go away to the god whose ministers they are."  This almost directly parallels the Christian beliefs on death, most notably seen in 2 Timothy 7, when Paul states, "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Henceforth, there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award me on that day, and not only to me, but also to all who have loved his appearing." Socrates' views on death are some of his most fascinating philosophical convictions, giving a hopeful ideal of the transition from this life to the next, a  conviction that gains great strength when paired with the truth of God's word.

         Socrates' belief in the release of death continues on to the topic of the soul, an area where Socrates' beliefs diverge into unusual territory.  Immediately apparent is Socrates' belief in the rebirth of the soul after death, an action that Socrates labeled as undesirable due to the aforementioned impurity of the body. An example of this rebirth is seen when Socrates describes the effect of a pleasure-filled life, saying, "And this, my friend, may be conceived to be that heavy, weighty, and earthy element of sight by which such a soul is depressed and dragged down again into the visible world, because she is afraid of the invisible and of the world below, in the neighborhood of which, as they tell us, are seen ghostly apparitions of souls which have not departed pure, but are cloyed by sight and therefore visible." Socrates then goes on to describe these spirits' transition into organisms that reflect their worldly tendencies, stating,"I mean to say that men who have followed after gluttony, and wantonness, and drunkenness, and have had no thought of avoiding them would pass into asses and animals of that sort." Thus, Socrates' beliefs declare the soul's only hope of salvation to be found in a life of temperance, chastity, and self-control because, as he states, "Each pleasure and pain is a sort of nail which nails and rivets the soul to the body, and engrosses her and makes her believe that to be true which the body affirms to be true; and from agreeing with the body and having the same delights, she is obliged to have the same habits and ways, and is not likely ever to be pure at her departure to the world below, but is always saturated with the body;  so that she soon sinks into another body, and there germinates and grows, and has therefore no part in the communion of the divine and pure and simple." This belief though greatly flawed, also shows reflections of Christianity as the sins and worldly pleasures of body do indeed drag the soul away from God, as stated in Romans 6:23, "For the wages of sin is death." Up until this point, a certain agreement can almost be reached between the two schools of thought, those being Socrates' and Bible's, however, Socrates puts his faith in the ability of man to save himself through reason and temperance, while God's Word states that only through Christ can a soul, not matter how righteous, attain salvation, as see in the second part of Romans 6:23,"But the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord."

          Plato's "Phaedo" is rightly hailed as a masterpiece. Its insights into Socrates' theories and convictions regarding death and the afterlife are enamoring, especially given their parallels with Christianity. Though he often treads on unusual ground, Socrates' revolutionary opinions formed a foundation for free thought and an emphasis on reason in determining one's worldview. Truly, the "Phaedo's" place among the great philosophical works of Western Culture is well-deserved.

Friday, 13 January 2012

Lessons in Character: Jane Austen


            
            The works of Jane Austen are among the finest examples of Western literature, particularly in terms of realistic portrayals of love.  Her writings ceaselessly weave creative stories in which both the characters and the audience are taught invaluable life lessons.  Of these, few characters rival those of Anne Elliot, Harriet Smith, and Elizabeth Bennet, as their developments are as profound as they are numerous. Though there are a large number of lesson these heroines learn in the course of their narratives, eligibility, the situation of women, and marriage stand as being some of the most definitive.

            Eligibility was a topic that Jane Austen incorporated into all of her works, frequently showing her understanding of it to be truly profound.  In the case of contrasting Anne Elliot and Harriet Smith, an interesting comparison is formed as both dwell in opposite societal positions.  For instance, Harriet’s illegitimate birth and uncertain parentage place her at the lower level of society, her only consolation in the form of presumably fair amounts of funding for her schooling being provided by her father (Austen 424).  Anne suffers no such disadvantage as her father’s status of a baronet makes him among the bourgeois, her status being inherited (4).  Elizabeth Bennet also lives under similar circumstances in which her father’s high class status and considerable fortune grant her a refined position in society (207).  Each of these women contributes her own unique portion to the concept of eligibility to make a fascinating perspective on the topic.

            In the case of Harriet Smith, Emma Woodhouse’s encouraging her to view herself in a more favorable light than her parentage would suggest sends her into a number of dangerous situations that almost bring about Harriet’s ruin (Austen 428).  The primary problem faced by Harriet surfaces in the form of Mr. Elton, a man whom Emma encourages Harriet to form attachments with (495).  However, both Emma and Harriet underestimate the bonds of their culture’s expectations when it is discovered that Mr. Elton bears no affection whatsoever for Harriet, vying for a much more eligible spouse (Austen 511).  This results in an incredibly trying situation for Harriet as her ties to Mr. Elton, whom she believed herself to be falling in love with, are abruptly severed, replaced by malicious hostility.  The pain is only increased by her having rejected Robert Martin, a man she felt a truly affectionate love for (440).  Though she gains wisdom from a host of life lessons throughout the course of her story, the most prominent of Harriet’s developments is her understanding of her position in society and the proper modes of conduct for one of her class, a realization that, once employed, brings Harriet into great happiness and contentedness with the love of her life.

            Conversely, where Harriet looks above her social position, Anne’s heart looks below hers to fall in love with Caption Wentworth, a man of no great social standing, or significant wealth (Austen 25). Though their love is tender and real, the expectations of those around them, primarily Lady Russell, persuade Anne to reject Wentworth, causing both of them great pain (26).  Fortunately, Anne and Wentworth’s friendship is reformed and their union finalized in marriage, a joyful prospect for both that could only be undertaken through the rejection of the ideals of Lady Russell and the suitor that she believes to be much more favorable for Anne (Austen 245).  Ultimately, though, this suitor, Mr. Elliot, is a veritable predator with a degenerative moral quality that renders his lofty position and fortunes ineffective in his attempt at claiming Anne’s hand (206).  Though Anne is strongly advised and encouraged to accept Mr. Elliot, her conviction that neither the approval of her noble friends, nor a union of social equity could make her truly happy, resulting in her embracing Captain Wentworth and entering into what is assuredly a blissful and happy union.

            Elizabeth Bennett has a different perspective from Anne in terms of society as she watches the results of culturally improper unions come into full fruition, not the least of which being that of her own parents.  Elizabeth’s mother, being of significantly lower social standing than her husband, Mr. Bennet, who is a gentleman of substantial fortunes, constantly reaffirms the reality of her crude and uncultured upbringing, frequently heaping humiliation and problematic circumstances on her family (Austen 207).  This manifests itself to the extreme when Lydia elopes with Wykham, a man of no fortune, pathetic future prospects, and a decidedly warped moral quality (Austen 364).  This arrangement quickly results in financial problems for the young couple that are the fruits of frivolous expenditures and foolish decisions, much like their original choice to run away together (412).  Contrasting this to the happy and well-planned unions of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy along with Jane and Mr. Bingley shows a need for the recognition of cultural differences in married couples, the result of ignoring this being obvious in the oft-embarrassing antics of Mrs. Bennett and Mr and Mrs. Wykham’s material and social deficit.
           
            Contrasting these three characters on the subject of eligibility brings up difficulties as they create a stark contrast when viewed collectively.  Where Anne Elliot enters into happiness through declining a perfectly eligible suitor, Elizabeth Bennet and Harriet Smith both marry within their own class, both seeing and suffering from the fruits of imprudent unions of largely differing partners in terms of class.  Through these, Austen shows her readers the need for wisdom in forging a successful marriage as its longevity is generally indefinite and must be handled with extreme caution, taking culture into account where relevant and as context and situations dictate.
           
            The state of women in Austen’s period was decidedly different from current times as women dwelled in a culture in which their destinies were primarily determined by the decisions of their male relations.  On this topic, the characters of Anne Elliot, Harriet Smith, and Elizabeth Bennet all learn important lessons that echo Austen’s convictions on the matter.

            In “Persuasion,” the situation of women appears to be one of deference to their male counterparts.  For example, Mrs. Smith, one of Anne’s dearest friends, descends from her comforts and luxuries to find a place of poverty through her husband’s wasteful practices, the death of whom leaves Mrs. Smith in a position of complete ineffectuality to influence her circumstances, having to resort to appealing to the one man she felt could help her, Mr. Elliot (Austen 206).  Unfortunately, Mr. Elliot’s refusal to aid her leaves Mrs. Smith in hopelessness, with no prospect of help presenting itself to the weak and now poor widow (206).   Anne, though sympathetic, is herself unable to assist her friend until she is married to Captain Wentworth, who then helps restore Mrs. Smith’s fortunes to a comfortable position (Austen 249). 

            Despite the decidedly deferential role played by the women of “Persuasion,” Jane Austen did not limit herself to an exclusive subscription to this ideal, instead broadening her focus to include more outgoing heroines as seen in one of her most famous novels. In “Pride and Prejudice,” Elizabeth Bennet is a young woman who speaks her mind readily and subtly mocks the men around her, primarily Mr. Darcy (Austen 234).  However, she avoids taking her freedoms to their extreme, keeping her comments from becoming too bold or brash.  This is illustrated by the differences between her and her mother and sister, both of whom are completely lacking in propriety and restraint, sullying their family’s reputation with impulsive and careless outbursts of nonsense, an example of which is seen when Mrs. Bennett says, “What is Mr. Darcy to me, pray, that I should be afraid of him? I am sure we owe him no such particular civility to be obliged to say nothing he may not like to hear (Austen 258).” This line, which she says in the presence of Mr. Darcy and a table full of dinner guests, not only humiliates Elizabeth, but becomes a primary motivator for Mr. Darcy in his attempts to separate Jane from Mr. Bingley, one of the story’s great crises (Austen 309).  Elizabeth Bennet’s ideal of the expression of women, being heavily influenced by her family’s shortcomings in this area, is one of caution, believing that discretion is paramount in the conduct of women, though it need not be applied so heavily as to notably stifle their articulation.

            Harriet Smith, though lacking the bold character of Elizabeth, has ample examples surrounding her of strong women.  The most unsavory example of this is seen in the character of Mrs. Elton, a women of little discretion and a commanding spirit.  Her interactions with Mr. Knightley, in which she attempts to convince him to allow her to manage some of his affairs are presented in a satirical form that mocks her feminism, a subtlety made clearer by Mr. Knightley’s firm reaction that only one other person may manage his affairs, Mrs. Knightley (Austen 606).  Conversely, Jane Fairfax is praised as the model of womanhood in “Emma,” her attitude of silent deference being one of her most defining traits (592).  Finally, watching her close friend, Emma, Harriet also is exposed to a number of situations in which her friend attempts to influence those whom she believes to be destined for one another, all of which end with predictably disastrous results, the most traumatic of which being Harriet’s discovering Mr. Elton’s complete indifference to her( Austen 511).  Harriet’s experiences with commanding and expressive characters of her own sex form collectively to create an impression that states the dangers of women who carelessly flaunt their ideas and perceptions, setting off a contrast with other feminine characterizations such as Jane Fairfax to express an appreciation for self-control and restraint in women’s conduct. 

            The three aforementioned characters indeed appear to learn greatly differing lessons relating to women, however, when viewed together, they collectively contribute to a mutual expression of the necessity for women to employ self-control regularly.  Dr. Elizabeth Kantor states in her book on the topic, “Jane Austen is not a misogynist.  It would be hard to find a writer whose attractive female characters are more attractive, and more truly admirable.  But the women who let their “voices” just go or whose chief concern is how much power they have, are not her attractive characters (141).”  This illustrates Austen’s lauding of the characters of Anne Elliot, Elizabeth Bennett, and Jane Fairfax as opposed to her mockery of personages such as Mrs. Elton and Lady Catherin de Bourgh, making an excellent contrast of feminine paradigms.

            Finally, being the primary conclusion to most of Austen’s works, Marriage was an action that she portrayed with lovely realism that recognized the wonderful beauty of this timeless institution.  The characters of Anne Elliot, Harriet Smith, and Elizabeth Bennett each learn similar lessons about love in their individual narratives, that add to the concept of Austen’s views on the matter.

            In the case of Elizabeth Bennett, equality becomes a vital issue in her marriage, exemplified in the problems rising from Mr. Darcy’s first proposal.   In his first attempt at gaining Elizabeth’s hand in marriage, Darcy excessively stresses the societal stigma of their union that will undoubtedly be viewed by his family and friends in a disapproving way, making his inflated view of himself in proportion to Elizabeth’s modest situation quite clear, a shortcoming that Elizabeth illustrates in her reply, saying “I might as well inquire why with so evident a desire of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me against your will, against your reason, and even against your character (Austen 306)?”  This, though far from being the most pressing problem in Elizabeth’s speedy decision to reject him, stands as a vital issue in their relationship as Mr. Darcy learns humility and appreciation for Elizabeth after this in a way that completely ignores his substantial material and societal status.

            Elizabeth too learns equality in a different fashion, discovering the pivotal importance of mutual respect in a couple, her primary experience with this stemming from Charlotte Lucas’ marriage with Mr. Collins.  Elizabeth, sensing the intellectual inequality of the two, knows that Charlotte can never be satisfied with her husband and proceeds to discover that her perception is accurate when she finds how Charlotte experiences shame at the blatant stupidity of her husband (Austen 288).  Having seen the unfortunate traits of this union, Elizabeth moves on with a superior understanding of mutual respect in marital relations, one that is played out in her own life.  Though not respecting him at the outset of their connection, Elizabeth, having experienced a number of revelations on his character, falls in love with Mr. Darcy, their assurance of mutual reverence obvious in the total respect that both hold for one another, exemplified in the last page of the story when Austen writes, “He, who had always inspired in herself a respect which almost overcame her affection, she now saw the object of open pleasantry (413).”

            Harriet Smith also learns the importance of this form of equality in her lessons from her own romantic ambitions and those around her.  In her own case, Emma’s council to inflate her material and societal expectations in a potential partner make her ignore her heart and seek out a husband based solely on other people’s interpretations of his demeanor and position: beliefs that are proved to be grossly erroneous later in the book (Austen 511).  Her understanding of this is shown to be strong when she accepts that Mr. Knightley is her superior in too profound a way for her to entertain hopes of courtship with him, leading her back to her true love Robert Martin, a man of much more acceptable character traits to her personality. 

            Anne Elliot, differing from Harriet and Elizabeth, looks to the example of one of her association’s unions in the form of the Musgroves.  Through viewing Mr and Mrs Musgrove, Anne sees the danger of a significant disparity of upbringing as she describes her perception of the two, saying, “Charles Musgrove was civil and agreeable; in sense and temper he was undoubtedly superior to his wife; but not of powers, or conversation, or grace, to make the past, as they were connected together, at all a dangerous contemplation; though, at the same time, Anne could believe, with Lady Russell, that a more equal match might have greatly improved him; and that a woman of real understanding might have given more consequence to his character, and  more usefulness, rationality,  and elegance to his habits and pursuits (Austen 41).” Their disparity of manner furthers this as Mary is a self-obsessed wife whose ignorance of any form of acceptable conduct is made quite obvious (42).  Conversely, Charles’ good breeding and refined propriety remain clear throughout the narrative and clash often with his wife’s opposing conduct.  Ultimately, Anne’s experiences with the couples around her show that there is indeed a great need for a solid form of equality in manner and class in marriage, a reality she lives out in her marriage to Captain Wentworth. 

Throughout the three aforementioned works, Austen frequently reaffirms her insightful understanding of marriage and the circumstances required for its longevity and bliss.  The inclusion of portraits of inequality in breeding and manners among partners, though only one of many, is one of her greatest lessons on marital unions, a truth she shows her heroines to learn.  Whether it’s the great similarity between Anne Elliot’s view on the matching of partners in marriage and Elizabeth Bennett’s as a result of her exposure to similar disparities of decorum in less than ideal unions or Harriet Smith’s personal experience with ignoring this truth and suffering for it, Austen incorporates a skillful level of didacticism into her works that showcases her artistic brilliance.

No matter which book, Austen’s pervasive employment of development in her heroines continues to fascinate audiences with its in-depth analyses on the social issues of her time.  Her understanding of the situation of women her time offers not only an increased knowledge of the subject but a clever solution that her heroines exemplify.  She also weaved the topic of eligibility into her plots with an excitingly subtle methodology that challenged the conventions of her day.  Finally, though never married herself (Pemberley), Jane Austen’s insights on marriage were displayed excellently in her plots, exposing the important issue of equality in unions with the exposition of her heroine’s perspectives on the less savory aspects of certain marriages, making the lessons learned plausible and applicable to both the audiences of her day and today.  Doubtless, Austen’s works will remain as a kind of paragon to romantic writers for ages to come, their brilliance shining brightly throughout untold generations of readers.
Citation of Resources

Austen, Jane. “Emma.” San Diego: Canterbury Classics, 2009.

---. “Persuasion.” New York: Knopf Publishing Group, 2006.

---. “Pride and Prejudice.” San Diego: Canterbury Classics, 2009.

Kantor, Elizabeth. “The PC Guide to English and American Literature.” Washington: Regenery Publishing, 2006.

Pemberley. “Biography: Life (1775-1817) and Family.” Web. 22 April, 2011.

            

Friday, 16 December 2011

Portraits of Villainy: Iago

        
            In keeping with last week's analysis of Richard III, this week's topic will explore the man who is likely Shakespeare's most infamous villain, "Othello's" Iago.  Though Shakespeare made villains in many forms, Iago is the paragon of the contemptible in his murderous and systematic approach to inflicting a world of pain on his hated commander, Othello. From his lack of motive and incredible brilliance, to his unapologetic end, Iago plays the part of a silent malefactor with ingenious depth and venomous precision.

            One of Iago's most fascinating traits is his lack of motive for hating Othello, a question that has fascinated readers for centuries. Though Iago gives a viable reason for his malice in stating that he believes Othello has committed adultery with Iago's wife,  this remains one of the less credible theories of motive as he states it with an utter lack of passion that isn't augmented by his hatred of his wife.  Despite this, the  theory does gain a small amount of momentum in its relation to Iago's brutal plan of leading Otthelo to believe that his wife has been unfaithful to him. Through all the speculation regarding Iago's motive, one theory has stood out as, despite being outlandish in nature, one of the most well-founded conceptions of Iago's motivation: a homosexual attraction to Othello. This can be supported with numerous examples from the play, one of main reasons being Iago's disturbing fixation upon sex, as is readily apparent in his dialogue. For example, the play begins with Iago waking up Othello's unknowing father in law to inform him in the most graphic terms possible of his daughter's having "relations" with a Moore, naturally leaving out the fact that Othello and his wife, Desdemona, are married. The dialogue only gets more graphic as the play progresses with Iago acting as Othello's confidante, using this trust to regularly hint at the acts Desdemona may be engaging in with another man.     This theory is also supported by Iago's directly targeting of Desdemona as the primary victim of his plots.  Finally, Iago shows a total hatred for all of the women in the play, including his wife, whom he kills. Iago's motivation is an enigma that can never be fully explained, however, literary conjecture has certainly pointed to some fascinating places that make the character of Iago all the more captivating.

          As with Richard III, Iago is a mastermind, perfectly capable of manipulating the circumstances and people surrounding him to create the ideal environment for his malevolent plans. It is this circumstantial control that especially works for Iago as he takes Othello's powerful position and mental stability, slowing bringing all the threads of his plans together to plunge Othello into a rage-tainted paranoia.  This is done very slowly, a few well-placed comments here and there followed by the exploitation of Othello's lieutenant, Cassio's, weakness to alcohol.  This results in Cassio's being demoted from his position, sending him into an acute depression. Iago then uses Desdemona's compassionate nature to have her plead with Othello on Cassio's behalf for a his reinstatement. A few more comments and the stealing of Desdemona's handkerchief, a gift from Othello, and Iago's plans begin to come to full fruition as Othello's suspicion that Desdemona is romantically involved with Cassio digs deep into his psyche, devastating his natural grace of speech and peace of mind to create an almost completely new character, one who Iago plays like a puppet. Finally, all his traps set, Iago encourages Othello that he has only one option, to destroy the adulterous couple, offering to deal with Cassio while Othello goes to perform the unspeakable act.

            In keeping with his utter lack of motive, Iago's character remains completely cold throughout the entire play, never showing a hint of emotion or remorse, another hallmark of Shakespeare's skill at villain-crafting.  In the play's horrific conclusion, Iago, having ambushed and wounded Cassio, returns to see Othello, his bloody deed completed. However, Iago's own wife, brings fourth evidence of Desdemona's innocence, turning on Iago and accusing him of orchestrating the horrible crime and mentioning the misplacement of Othello's handkerchief,  all before being killed by Iago. This done, and Iago's guilt made apparent by this and the wounded Cassio's arrival, Othello gives his final speech, regaining his lost eloquence before wounding Iago, saying, "I'd have thee live; for in my sense, 'tis happiness to die." Othello then speaks his final words, and turns the blade upon himself. Iago, his wife dead, Desdemona murdered, and Othello perished, remains silent, even as he is lead away, having said in response to  the Dukes questioning of him, "Demand me nothing;what you know, you know: From this time fourth I will never speak a word." The Duke, instructing the guards to spare nothing in torturing Iago, ends the tale, saying, "Myself will straight aboard, and to the state. This heavy act with heavy heart relate."Though his ending is fitting, the chilling silence that Iago adopts leaves a mark on the audience, quietly lauding his own brilliance and complete victory over Othello, having destroyed him in all aspects. This imports the true horror of Othello to the audience in Iago's complete victory, even as he is dragged away to a grisly fate.

            Through his brilliance, mysterious motivation, and mercilessness, Iago rises to the position as Shakespeare's, and indeed one of Western Literature's,  most infamous villains. The means by which he manipulates Othello into murdering his beloved, is thought-provoking and nightmarish, compounded by his silent departure from the play, his victory chillingly obvious.

        

Saturday, 10 December 2011

Portraits of Villainy: Richard III


      
               With few exceptions, the works of Shakespeare have furnished history with the finest villains of all time and continue to fascinate audiences today with their ruthless plots and unprecedented cruelty. From Iago and Don John to Cassius and , the bard’s antagonist’s remain the as some of the most chilling monsters in literary lore.  Of these, Richard III is one of the most intimate and, consequently horrifying.
            
            Though he lacks the mysterious aura of Iago, the villain of “Othello,” Richard III brings a closeness to the audience that becomes more and more disturbing as his character progresses in evil to a roaring crescendo, all the while endearing his audience with seductive soliloquies and monologues that impart a sense of camaraderie, despite his overt vileness and ugly appearances. An example of this is Richard’s opening monologue, beginning with the famous line, “Now is the winter of our discontent.” This continues with Richard explaining the roots of his hatred for humanity, claiming that his unappealing looks have left him socially crippled, a lie that Shakespeare made obvious through Richard’s skill at charming and endearing himself to the majority of his foes early in the play.  Despite it’s clear untruth, this explanation is enough to foster enough compassion for Richard that when he begins the systematic murder and manipulation of his family, the audience is still on his side in a grisly display of Shakespeare’s psychological brilliance. 

This partially stems from the fascinating nature of his schemes, each of them expressing a different facet of Richard’s extensive psyche.  An example of this can be found in Richard’s wooing of the Lady Anne, a bitter widow with just enough favorable ties to make her his prospective wife. Thus, in true Richard III fashion, Richard directly confronts Anne at the head of her late husband’s funeral procession, wooing her with poetic language and complements that flourish under her vituperative assault.  This scene takes a twisted turn in the fact that Richard was directly responsible for Anne’s husband’s death, a fact that she is well-aware of throughout the confrontation.  However, Richard’s persistence, culminating in his baring his chest to her, ordering her to either take his life or his love, softens Anne’s hard heart and wins her over, ending with him famously contemplating, “Was woman ever in this way wooed?” It is scenes like these that foster Richard’s audience appeal, as one can never know what unique wickedness he will exercise next.

   Finally despite being charismatic and endearing, Richard’s depravity pervades the play and achieves its desired effect in repeatedly shocking the reader.  Out of his host of atrocities, a number of Richard’s acts stand out for their terrifying and unapologetic cruelty. One of the first of these is his ordering of the murder of Clarence, his brother, a man he pledges to help in the play’s first scene, making his subsequent betrayal and murder more bloody than its already fratricidal reality. Though this act, the murder of his wife, and the execution of numerous innocents are appalling, Shakespeare writes the entire play to center around one monstrous act, the murder of the two child princes.  This is achieved through the building of tension as even Buckingham, Richard’s brutal assistant, quakes before the thought of killing the beloved and youthful princes whose previous scenes have earned the love of the audience through their own forms of witty and innocent dialogue. The play goes further in creating shock through Richard’s hired killer describing the scene of the grisly act, saying, “Girdling one another within their alabastor innocent arms. Their lips were four red roses on a stalk, which in their summer beauty kiss’d each other. A book of prayers on their pillow lay, which once, almost changed my mind; but O! the devil! We smothered the most replenished sweet work of nature that from the prime creation e’er she framed.


An artist’s impression of the final moments of the famous princes. Their historical fate remains one of Britain’s great mysteries.
          
          From his opening monologue to the final speech to his troops, Richard III constantly reinforces his position as Shakespeare’s most charismatic villain. However, his depth goes further as his cruelty and eccentricities come together to form a villain unlike any other, shockingly mixing depravity and charm with a tasteful dash of the bizarre to forge one of Shakespeare’s most thought-provoking and terrifying characters.

Tuesday, 22 November 2011

On the Playwrights of Antiquity: Sophocles Part 1



       The performance arts have been a constant part of human society and culture for century upon century, and throughout it, skilled masters of entertainment have risen to bring their brilliant works to a place of respect and reverence.  Of these pioneers in play-writing,  Sophocles was one of the most bold, forging a vision of tragedy that attained a level of refinement previously unheard of. Though he wrote numerous plays, his most beloved and famous are the 'Three Theban Plays,' a trilogy that details the horrifying fall of Oedipus, the king of Thebes, and his ill-fated family.

       The first play of the trilogy, "Oedipus Rex," plays out as a sort of mystery as Oedipus frantically searches for the assassin of the previous king of Thebes, a quest that takes him back to his mysterious past, ultimately revealing his guilt as the murderer of the old king, who, in a twist was in fact Oedipus's father. Unfortunately, the tragedy is only beginning at this point as Oedipus discovers the incestuous reality of his marriage to the queen, leaving him in a position of such incredible guilt as to merit one course of action, that being self-banishment from his beloved Thebes.

      This highlights one of the more fascinating parts of Sophocles' masterpiece, the complete innocence of its protagonist.  Though Oedipus did kill the old king, it was an act of defense, while his marriage to the queen seemed obligatory upon his becoming ruler of Thebes. This makes an interesting contrast with the vast majority of tragedies as their  heroes knowingly make decisions that lead them to their downfall. For instance, in Shakespeare's most beloved tragedy,  Hamlet's violence and cruelty towards Polonius and Ophelia earn him the hatred of Laertes, the man who ultimately kills Hamlet.  On the other hand, Othello's rage, King Lear's foolishness, and Macbeth's killings all lead directly to their tragic and often bloody fates.  Though Oedipus is indeed flawed and  engages in the acts that directly bring about his doom,  his character goes about these actions without any knowledge of their deadly nature. In fact, Oedipus has a certain analogous relationship with the Biblical King David as he, like David, when confronted with the knowledge of an individual guilty of a horrific lustful sin, becomes determined to discover the vile criminal, only to find that he himself is guilty and must face the penalty.

     Another trait that brings definition to "Oedipus Rex" is its continuity.  Though the play stands on its own, its two sequels bring the story full circle and display Sophocles' epic vision of familial ruin. This imparts a special feel to the end of the play as Oedipus blindly leaves Thebes, forming a sense of eagerness in the audience to see how his story will ultimately conclude in the next two plays.

    Sophocles' playwright genius won him numerous accolades during his life and continues to awe audiences thousands of years later, earning him a well-deserved position as one of the first masters of artistic expression in the performing arts.  His Three Theban Plays possess some of the most unique and fascinating attributes of classical plays and remain as some of the best  surviving examples of Grecian writing.