Showing posts with label Literature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Literature. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 2, 2017

Vividness Overcomes Stereotypes: A Reaction to "Things Fall Apart"

Our world is rife with stereotypes, ranging from those of ethnicity and culture to those of gender, age, and occupation. Many people have too-simplified images of nerdy Asian men, lazy Latinos, unintelligent blonde women, overly-macho gym rats, and you name it. Some would say stereotypes are correct in particular cases, and they may help you judge people whom you have just met. This is true, but stereotypes also have serious side effects: false assumptions can easily drive people with hate or fear; a lack of information can mislead somebody and create conflicts between groups, and most importantly, people tend to disrespect individuals having different backgrounds. The television and film industry have long been promoting such stereotypes, and novels are guilty of the same. Consciously and unconsciously, fictional narratives have also encouraged inaccurate, prejudiced images of various groups.

Chinua Achebe, a former radio script writer in Nigeria, eloquently challenges such stereotypes in his novel Things Fall Apart (1958). The story takes place among small tribes, where the protagonist Okonkwo has a simple life with his wives and children. The setting is the village of Umuofia in the Nigeria of the past. British missionaries come into the village, build churches, and gradually gain converts. Triggered by a convert who has killed a prestigious masquerader during a ritual, the battle between villagers and Christians begins. When it ends, Okonkwo kills himself just after murdering one of the missionaries. Throughout the novel, Achebe realistically depicts the life of tribes, which counters wide-spread stereotypes of Africa as an uncivilized continent. His mixture of English and realistic African dialogues is definitely a powerful means of making Western readers aware of such stereotypes.

Why do people see Africans as uncivilized? One reason might stem from their original religion and customs. Unlike Christianity where only one God exists, the Ibo people believe in animism — the idea that objects, places, and all parts of Nature possess spiritual qualities — as well as personal gods, of which everyone has their own.

In Chapter 21, village member Akunna has a discussion with British missionary Mr. Brown. Akunna finds that both religions have one supreme God, but there is a discrepancy in how they perceive natural objects such as rocks and woods. He believes that things themselves are minor gods, which act as “messengers” sent by God, whereas Mr. Brown maintains that God is “the only God and all others are false.” (Achebe 179) Although they do not change their beliefs, the conversation is never intimidating or insulting. Achebe here shows logos and sensitive mind in the tribe; this contradicts the Western stereotype and also teaches us that understanding differences is the first step to respecting each other.

The Ibo culture includes somewhat abhorrent customs, especially from the Western perspective. Clan members must throw away their twin babies in the forest because twins are seen as an offense that infuriates the earth. They also sacrifice a boy from another clan in order to follow the oracle’s words. They believe in ogbanje — a child repeatedly dies and returns to its mother to be reborn. Parents beat their dead child hoping he/she will not go back to the mother’s womb. These customs enrage the British preachers. But Achebe also details the cultural context and reasons behind such customs.

In African tribes back then, death is much more frequent than in Europe. Quite a few children die in their youth. Here, the priestess Chielo talks to Okonkwo’s second wife about her daughter:
“How old is she now?”
“She is about ten years old.”
“I think she will stay. They usually stay if they do not die before the age of six.” (Achebe 48)
Because of this, men are allowed to have multiple wives, while women are supposed to bear and raise as many children as possible. The sustainability of the clan can outweigh one individual’s life. Masculinity and discipline are very much valued so that men can control their families and hunt for food, along with fighting hostile clans. In addition, the native people are extremely afraid of gods. They never question their traditional system until the white folks come and take over. Achebe depicts these backgrounds so vividly that readers likely sympathize with such cultural context to some degree.

Another stereotype that Westerners probably hold is that the African tribe members are inherently cruel, violent barbarians. Again, Achebe refutes this idea by utilizing the perspective inside the tribes. In Chapter 15, Okonkwo knows that the village of Abame has been “wiped out” by Westerners. (Achebe 138) One white man with his iron horse came to the village, but people were unable to communicate with him. Afraid of him summoning his friends, Abame’s men kill him. Several weeks later, another white man finds that horse, and, eventually, his armed group slaughters nearly all the Abame villagers. Okonkwo and his friend both conclude that “Never kill a man who says nothing. Those men of Abame were fools.” (Achebe 140) They know that irrational murder may lead to tragic consequences, as their proverb says, “if one finger brought oil it soiled the others.” (Achebe 125)

When Okonkwo and other clan members are being captured by the Christians in Chapter 23, the District Commissioner deceives them with a surprise attack: “There was only a brief scuffle, too brief even to allow the drawing of a sheathed machete. The six men were handcuffed and led into the guardroom.” (Achebe 194) The commissioner harshly tortures Okonkwo until the clan pays a substantial fine. Achebe ironically asks readers, “who is the cruelest?” They are just in a whirl of vengeance; no one is intrinsically brutal.

Achebe finishes the novel with the District Commissioner’s monolog. After finding Okonkwo dead, the Commissioner thinks about writing, such as: “The story of this man who had killed a messenger and hanged himself would make interesting reading. … He had already chosen the title of the book, after much thought: ‘The Pacification of the Primitive Tribes of the Lower Niger’.” (Achebe 209) Perhaps we can infer Achebe’s intention from this last paragraph.

Imagine how this Commissioner would write about Okonkwo. He must portray Okonkwo as a violent, inhuman character because Okonkwo kills the Commissioner’s comrade. He would strongly believe that his messengers do good for the world, thus justifying themselves. This is contradictory to Okonkwo, who hangs himself in a painful way, surrounded by his bare-breasted wives. This material can be propaganda for Christianity. And this is what the whole literature industry has long been, in reality.

Achebe, on the other hand, details Okonkwo’s brave story. Okonkwo is a revered man with a title, wives, and children, but also he is racked by misfortune as a result of too much emphasis on manliness.

Literature always brings readers virtual experiences. Achebe’s meticulously-crafted English and vividly-illustrated African life suggest a new way of perceiving the world, although it might be unpleasant sometimes. This is quite meaningful for Westerners who might have been overwhelmed by Western ideologies and self-justifications. By knowing another perspective, we can respect other individuals instead of sticking to inaccurate stereotypes. Otherwise, we can never negotiate with others without violence, as the Umuofia villagers claim to the church, “he does not understand our customs, just as we do not understand his. We say he is foolish because he does not know our ways, and perhaps he says we are foolish because we do not know his.” (Achebe 191) Achebe has challenged not only stereotypes of the African but also the “standard view” of world literature by publishing this novel, “Things Fall Apart.”



Works Cited

Achebe, Chinua. Things Fall Apart. Place of Publication Not Identified: Paw Prints, Baker & Taylor, 2009. Print.

Wednesday, April 12, 2017

Interrogative Family Dynamics: A Juxtaposition of “Jane Eyre” and “Wide Sargasso Sea”

Charlotte Bronte’s “Jane Eyre” (1847) is one of the most influential Gothic novels in the Victorian era. Framed as Jane’s autobiography, the story vividly depicts her dramatic life. While confronting various types of adversities, she always seeks for independence, freedom, and love for Mr. Rochester, whom she eventually marries. And this accomplished work has made Bronte a distinguishable writer. In 1966, Jean Rhys reacted to Bronte, publishing her best-selling “Wide Sargasso Sea,” in which characters from “Jane Eyre” are projected from a different perspective. Rhys spotlights Bertha Mason, Mr. Rochester’s first wife from Jamaica, known as a madwoman in the attic. Rhys names her Antoinette Cosway and creates a story of her upbringing, interwoven with the Caribbean culture, which the author’s native land, Dominica, belongs to.

Both Jane and Antoinette are born to a tragic family. Jane, whose parents die from the typhus disease when she is young, is adopted by Mr. Reed, her mother’s brother. He promises to treat her as his real child, but after he dies, Mrs. Reed treats Jane very badly, thus breaking the promise. Antoinette, born in Jamaica, struggles with poverty and discrimination. She lives with her mother, brother, and a servant in a secluded place. Because her mother is a white native of Martinique, the local people —both black and white— discriminate against and torture her family. Her brother Pierre is killed by a fire at the Coulibri house, which places a dark shadow over Antoinette’s life. Jane and Antoinette have many traits in common. Comparing the family relationships of the two main characters, we can find several similarities as well as differences, which connect to the authors’ purposes and historical backgrounds of the period, and cast essential questions to readers.

One of the similarities between Jane and Antoinette is found in their parents. Both women are born to unequally married parents. Jane’s mother, Jane Reed, is a daughter of the wealthy Reed family, yet she falls in love with a poor clergyman. Not surprisingly, the Reeds do not allow her to marry a man of a different social class. Jane learns from a nursery’s conversation that her “grandfather Reed was so irritated at her disobedience, he cut her off without a shilling.” (Bronte 31) Jane’s parents live in poverty as a result.

In “Wide Sargasso Sea” Antoinette’s mother, Annette, is a foreigner from Martinique and first marries a debased ex-slave owner, Alexander Cosway. After he dies, she marries a colonizer and rich widower, Mr. Mason. The new spouse is fascinated by Annette’s beauty; she is well known as “a pretty woman” and an accomplished “dancer.” But people believe that this unbalanced marriage will not last long, saying “he will regret it”, “why should he marry a widow without a penny to her name and Coulibri a wreck of a place?” they add. (Rhys 26) Even though their skin color is the same, their background is completely different.

Both parental marriages include a split: the class split of Jane’s case and the cultural split of Antoinette’s folks. This difference highlights the difference in the authors’ main concerns. While Bronte questions the established social classes in England, Rhys focuses on consequences of colonization in the Caribbean islands.

Another similarity between Jane and Antoinette is their isolation from others. In Gateshead, Jane has a severe time being tortured by Mrs. Reed and her son, John Reed. They are the masters of the house, so no one can rebel and help ease Jane’s suffering. When she is ten, she is confined in the red room by Mrs. Reed as a punishment for arguing with John, which reminds her of hopelessness and greatly traumatizes her. Later Jane befriends several peers —including Helen Burns— in her adolescence, but emptiness and loneliness always follow her. After knowing that Mr. Rochester has already been married, she determines, “The more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more I will respect myself.” (Bronte 365)

Antoinette is also isolated from society. The house her family lives is located far from the town, and they are discriminated against by the local people; they see Antoinette as a “white nigger.” In addition, Antoinette’s stepfather, Mr. Mason, soon abandons the family. Such mental isolation never changes through entire her life. After she gets married to Mr. Rochester, who regards her as a “madwoman”, she is imprisoned in the attic at Thornfield, England until she lights a fire to set herself free.

Editor Stevie Davies notes that the immured woman is the key in Bronte’s literature. “Eliza the anchorite; Bertha the prisoner; Jane in the red-room all reprise this theme of the silenced woman,” he maintains. The mind of Bronte herself is in a “narrow cell; / Dark - imageless - a living tomb,” as she expresses in her poem “Frances.” (Bronte 572)

Thirdly, both Jane and Antoinette follow the path of their deceased mothers. Jane believes in her love as her mother does. Mr. Rochester is in the higher class and much older than Jane, but she never cares, in spite of the advice by Mrs. Fairfax: “Equality of position and fortune is often advisable in such cases” and “Gentlemen in his station are not accustomed to marry their governesses.” (Bronte 305-306) Antoinette, as well, marries a colonizer whose greatest interest is making money, just as when her mother had married Mr. Mason. And like her mother, she is seen as an insane woman. Jane and Antoinette both marry Mr. Rochester; however, the consequences are totally opposite. Jane and Mr. Rochester love each other, while he never loves Antoinette. Jane’s marriage is long-lasting, and eventually, the couple has a child as a result of their true love. Antoinette, in turn, tries to kill Mr. Rochester as her mother had attempted to kill Mr. Mason. She finally puts an end to her married life by killing herself.

Despite those resemblances, the family relationships surrounding the protagonists end very differently. In “Jane Eyre,” all the issues with Jane’s family settle down. Mrs. Reed and John Reed, who have harshly tormented Jane in their Gateshead house, die miserably as if the deaths are a punishment of Heaven. As for John Reed’s sisters, Eliza and Georgiana, they get mentally exhausted and come to reconcile themselves to Jane in some degree in Chapter 21, but Jane is determined to put a break with them, saying “You are not without sense, cousin Eliza; but what you have, I suppose, in another year will be walled up alive in a French convent. However, it is not my business, and so it suits you - I don’t much care.” (Bronte 279) [No mention of the sisters is seen after Chapter 22.] Jane’s uncle John Eyre remains a benevolent character throughout the story. Even though he passes away before seeing Jane in person, he had a will that included her, and Jane inherits a surprising amount of property from him. Although there still remain hardships, Jane’s family relationship is finally relieved.

In Antoinette’s life in “Wide Sargasso Sea,” on the other hand, we cannot see any resolution. Mr. Mason and his brother, Richard Mason, still keep a distance with her. Although Richard visits England to see her, he is not able to save her from madness and confinement in the attic.

Why is there such a huge gulf between two characters? We can view this as the discrepancy between the Victorians and the Moderns. The two authors have different intentions. Bronte in the Victorians mainly concerned with the social classes in England and asks readers to question the roles of women. Bronte creates Jane as a character who encourages female readers to pursue their freedom and independence. For such a character, family problems are obstacles to overcome; perhaps indicating that Establishment should be broken down. Rhys, in contrast, questions readers in a more obscure manner. By depicting the ruthless reality in Jamaica in the post-colonial era and the eerie, hopeless path of Antoinette’s life, not only does Rhys suggest reasoning to Antoinette’s madness, but she also tries to make readers reexamine colonialism at that time.

In “The Norton Anthology of World Literature,” the author introduces a notion that modernism was “interrogative,” stating “it inquires how we know what we know, rather than merely rejecting previous models of thought.” He adds, “much of what we think we know reflects the questions we ask and the methods we use to obtain answers.” (Puchner 1621) Witnessing World War I and consequent global turmoil, people knew “something was wrong.” And “the survivors resolved to reexamine the bases of certainty, the structures of knowledge, the systems of belief, and the repositories of authority in a society that had allowed such a war to occur.” (Puchner 1622) This is the key concept in the Moderns and engages with orientalism, or cultural imperialism, the process by which “the Orient” was constructed as an “exotic other” by the West. Rhys suggests that “something was wrong” in the environment surrounding Antoinette. But who is wrong? Unlike “Jane Eyre,” where characters have discernible good or bad human qualities —say, malicious Mrs. Reed and angelic Helen Burns, the answer is not simple. Many characters are not only victimizers but also victims. And this complexity itself is also one of the characteristics of the Moderns.

In general, novel writers tend to create a protagonist in a distressing family relationship so that they can craft antagonists and a less boring story. “Jane Eyre” and “Wide Sargasso Sea” are instances of such literature technique; however, their intentions and conclusions differ significantly. This discretion stems from the difference in each novel’s audience and purpose. Bronte challenges the establishment to shift the roles of women in the 19th century, whereas Rhys deepens the same story with the Caribbean perspective, trying to refute Orientalism. Nonetheless, both authors are the same in that they ask their readers very essential questions via the complex family relationships they have created.





Works Cited

Bronte, Charlotte. “Jane Eyre.” Ed. Stevie Davies. London: Penguin, 2006. Print.

Rhys, Jean. “Wide Sargasso Sea.” New York: W. W. Norton &, Independent since 1923, 2016. Print.

Puchner, Martin. "The Norton Anthology of World Literature." New York: W.W. Norton, 2012. Print.

Tuesday, February 14, 2017

How The Monster Shaped His “Ego”: An Analysis of “Frankenstein”

Mary Shelley published her masterpiece “Frankenstein” in 1818. In her intricate story-telling, protagonist Victor Frankenstein succeeds to create a life from an assemblage of corpses, but he promptly turns it away, seized with a tremendous fear. The abandoned life, which Frankenstein calls “the monster,”  learns to live, interacts with people, and at last turns to a terrifying murderer with accumulated hatred of his creator, Frankenstein. Not only does the monster allude to the danger of science, but Shelley also depicts him as a sympathetic, fascinating character. In fact, she devoted whole six chapters to delivering the monster’s monologue (Chapter 11 to 16). By detailing the monster’s intellectual development meticulously, Shelley demonstrates how one’s self is shaped, and her depiction exhibits astonishing coherence with the ideas of modern psychologists, including Sigmund Freud.

In “The Ego and the Id” published in 1923, Freud defines the term “ego” as the sensible mental process driven by both conscious and unconscious in each individual. Such unconscious forces are what he calls “id.” The ego represents reason and common sense, while the id contains passions. (Freud 27) These mental interactions are specifically seen in the monster’s early days. Once the monster materializes, he seeks for food and drinks at first. He simply follows his primitive desire, saying “I felt light, and hunger, and thirst, and darkness.” (Shelley 42) Even though he has to survive the harsh winter with no protector, his reasoning skills enable him to manage the adversities; he conveys, “I examined the materials of the fire, and to my joy found it to be composed of wood.” (Shelley 42) The monster’s experiences are not always tasteful. When he enters a village for the first time, he unexpectedly faces the violence of human beings, recollecting “The whole village was roused; some fled, some attacked me, until, grievously bruised by stones and many other kinds of missile weapons, I escaped to the open country, and fearfully took refuge in a low hovel, …” (Shelley 43) He perceives the villagers’ hostility toward him and learns the necessity for his safety to stay away from humans.

In addition to the id and ego, Freud introduces the concept of “super-ego.” This controls the idea of goodness: what you ought to be and what you may not be. The super-ego ranges from religion to morality to a social sense. (Freud 49) As for the monster, the observation of the De Lacey family greatly helps him develop his super-ego. He figures out that the family, whose members reside in a secluded cottage, was in poverty. He studies language as well as abstract concepts, “such as ‘good,’ ‘dearest,’ ‘unhappy.’” (Shelley 47) Freud, too, emphasizes the importance of word presentation which helps elevate a notion from being unconscious to being conscious. The monster also finds that doing good can fulfill himself. He covertly contributed to the cottagers, especially for his admirable Felix, by collecting wood for the fire and clearing their path from the snow. This proves the maturity of the monster’s super-ego. Meanwhile, the monster first sees his figure mirrored by a pool. He reveals his shock as “how was I terrified when I viewed myself in a transparent pool! At first I started back, unable to believe that it was indeed I who was reflected in the mirror; and when I became fully convinced that I was in reality the monster that I am …” (Shelley 47) Here the monster literally recognizes his look. Through this perception, part of his unconscious became conscious, which stimulates development in his self-awareness. Shelley shows that we construct our self by degrees.

Lastly, Freud concludes that there are two types of instincts: the life instinct and death instinct. The life instinct, or Eros, includes drives for survival, pleasure, and reproduction, whereas the death instinct is a craving for death and destruction. (Freud 55) Perhaps stimulated by Safie, cottager Felix’s love, and a biblical tale in “Paradise Lost” by John Milton, the monster begins to desire love and intimacy. He intimidates Frankenstein into creating another “monster,” or Eve for Adam; however, Frankenstein rejects that idea. This deep depression urges the monster to curse Frankenstein. (Shelley 59) Freud argues that both Eros and the death instinct exist at the same time. He writes, “after Eros has been eliminated through the process of satisfaction, the death instinct has a free hand for accomplishing its purposes.” (Freud 67) Now that the monster has lost any means of satisfying his Eros, the death instinct might be dominating his mind. As a result, he pursues the destruction of Frankenstein.

Freud sees the ego as a victim of the id, super-ego, the external world. (Freud 69) The self, or the internal perception, is always influenced by the outside. The De Laceys’ benevolence has grown the monster’s humanity. The desperate injustice and Frankenstein’s selfishness have mirrored the monster’s brutality as well. After Frankenstein’s death, the monster confesses: “Evil thenceforth became my good.” and “the fallen angel becomes a malignant devil.” (Shelley 98) At last, the monster was completely swallowed by the death instinct, saying “I shall die. I shall no longer feel the agonies which now consume me.” (Shelley 99)

The Romantic authors embraced individualism, the idea that everyone is inherently unique and possesses good human nature. The imaginary, gigantic monster Shelley embodies is more human in terms of psychological development. He is born innocent. He gradually brews his ego and super-ego while distressed by both the life and death instincts. Like the monster’s figure reflected in a pool in the forest, we can only see ourselves by interacting with the external world. Shelley teaches us how the self is being developed.


Works Cited

Freud, Sigmund. “The Ego and the Id.” The Hogarth Press Ltd. London, 1949. Print.
Shelley, Mary Wollstonecraft. “Frankenstein; Or, The Modern Prometheus.” Public Domain, 2008. PDF file.