For many years, scholars, historians, and philosophers have engaged in heated debates concerning the topic of American literature, eager to define what many claim to be a formidable task. But what exactly makes American literature such a formidable task? So difficult to understand? American literature is a growing genre, spanning over the course of centuries across a vast plain that was and is commonly referred to as the west. It is confined by vague boundaries; lines addressing the temporal as well as physical borders. Does it begin during the precolonial era, when oral tradition was popular among the natives? It is characterized by where it was written (location) or by its content that might relate to American ideologies? These kinds of questions leave many scholars and historians stumped, unable to continue their definition with clear, "scientific" evidence. In order to answer these questions, they will often team up and compose their own original solution, accustomed to their group's or their own beliefs. However, with these individual responses, many of the solutions remain in constant debate with one another. Reasons for such controversy can be found lying within the rapidly evolving, highly influential, dynamic American culture. Literature pertaining to a country is a product of its history, culture, and overall motive.
By re-evaluating the historical context of America's foundation, one may truly understand the culture and ultimately the literature that was derived from it. Modernism, as we have discussed many times before, was a monumental step in the development of western literature. It is characterized by optimism, where the average human has the ability to manipulate and reshape their surroundings despite their social standing and common troubles. When Charlotte Gilman first wrote "Herland," she pictured precisely this, a place that had been perfected due to unremitting criticism, one that welcomed scrutiny and correction. The Utopian trait of the civilization recurs often to fully establish what women are capable of. While describing the organization and landscape, Gilman writes: "Everything was beauty, order, perfect cleanness, and the pleasantest sense of home over it all" (16). She strengthens the idea of a utopia by characterizing its inhabitants: "These were merely athletic--light and powerful. College professors, teachers, writers--many women showed similar intelligence but often wore a strained nervous look, while these we as calm as cows, for all their evident intellect" (19). Gilman finalizes and verifies the idea of the feminist utopia upon Vandyck's revelation and acceptance of gender equality. She writes, "[w]e had expected a dull submissive monotony, and found a daring social inventiveness far beyond our own... We had expected pettiness, and found a social consciousness beside which our nations looked like quarreling children... We had expected jealously, and found a broad sisterly affection... We had expected hysteria, and found a standard of health and vigor..." (69). With such evidence, Gilman's intention to envision a utopia is obvious and a phenomenal representation of modernist philosophy. "Herland" could easily be used within my Definition of American literature.
English II: American Literature
Sunday, March 9, 2014
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
Herland: Connection to In-Class Text
Over the course of this (third) quarter, the English II class has thoroughly discussed the many defining characteristics of realism. I, on both my own time and class time, have explored a diversity of pieces, ranging from the jovial adventures of Huckleberry Finn to the crude vulgarity of McTeague. Realism, as discussed before, focuses on accurate depictions of life, paying heavy attention towards the dull truth behind society. It is characterized by its lack of exaggeration as well as any form of distortion; the style's foundation lies within the author's ability to perceive reality as it truly and honestly exists. In contrast with other literary styles, the writing is upfront, obvious, and somewhat pessimistic. This style revolves around plausibility and grounded ideas to further enhance the realistic feel. In "Herland," Charlotte Gilman envisions a utopia, one devoid of crime, pollution, war, and, more importantly, men. Modernist writing, as demonstrated in this book, greatly contrasts with realism, exercising optimism in virtually every way. Its underlying philosophy is a product of its history (1920s - "Roarin' 20s") and had a profound influence on the American culture. Modernist thought was "driven by a concious desire to overturn traditional modes of representation and express the new sensibilities of their time" (Wikipedia). Thus, having only revealed conflict and contrast in my research, finding a close relative of "Herland" became a daunting challenge. I revisited the texts, skimmed through the pages, delved deeper into the content, and tried to uncover themes and potential similarities. As I spent more time with the stories, I drew one significant connection between "McTeague: A Story of San Francisco" and "Herland," using realism as a bridge to relate such differing styles.
Trina Sieppe is a girl seemingly unblemished by society's harm and quite literally resembles innocence. She is characterized by a humble life where she dwells in the comfort of simplicity and financial freedom, finding completely pleasure through the jovial youth of picnics and daily trips. However, all of her preceding childhood and happiness is washed away by one lucky draw that many would say is only a fantasy. Winning the lottery marks the decline of Trina's role in life and importance in the eyes of the other characters. Marcus, her cousin and ex-lover, grows agitated upon finding this information, feeling cheated, as if Trina's heart was stolen from him. With complete disregard to her feelings and significance, he approaches McTeague with demands, run by an adrenaline of fury and aggression. Marcus, like a child whining to its mother, exclaimed in regret: "[a]ll I know is that I've been soldiered out of five thousand dollars" (111). Marcus first addresses the monetary value of Trina before the value of her character, putting a heavy emphasis on the importance (and role) of women. Shortly after, she is denigrated to virtually nothing: "'If I had my rights,' cried Marcus, bitterly, 'I'd have part of that money. It's my due--it's only justice'" (111). Norris's use of the word "rights" illustrates Marcus's complete intention to "own" Trina , which in turn hints towards male dominance and female inferiority.
As the story progresses in McTeague, the severity of their comments increase and the implication of female inferiority becomes clearly evident. Charlotte Gilman, in her book, "Herland," applies the same stereotype to the story but immediately rebukes it with strong contrasts. In doing so, she continues this trend of unjustified female inferiority. Her portrayal of the male characters, shallow and judgmental, are merely a representation of the entire gender as she see it. Through their voice, Gilman establishes misconceptions concerning the female role in society as well as their suppressed potential. In "Herland," the three stooges (as I like to call them), Jeff Margrave, Terry Nicholson, and Vandyck Jennings, explore a vast, unknown territory populated by only women. Despite having several degrees in their own specialties, the group is naive and poorly suited for this expedition, with strong underestimations of female authority. Their ignorance coupled with their narcissism lead to gender prejudice and the introduction of stereotypical comments. For example, Terry jokes with his friends and subtlety hints towards his own superiority: "'You'll see,' he insisted, 'I'll get solid with them all--and play one bunch against the other. I'll get myself elected king in no time--whew! Solomon will have to take a back seat!'" (7). The narrator even associates sophisticated civilization and order with manhood: "'But they look--why, this is a civilized country!' [Vandyck] protested. 'There must be men'" (10). These comments, though very general, are key ideas in the development of Gilman's intention to create the stereotype. Over the course of the book, the men continuously question the women's potential and ultimately grow a liking to their culture and efficiency.
Sunday, February 23, 2014
Herland: Sprinkled by a Sense of Rationality
Charlotte Gilman's deliberate use of stereotypes and utopias, as we have discussed once before, establish a realistic, yet modernist undertone that remains passive throughout the duration of the story. While most classify "Herland" according to these techniques, others argue that it is heavily influenced by other literary styles of American history. This idea or interpretation, assuming its support is valid, could easily become a plausible conclusion. "Herland," as I see it, is sprinkled by a sense of rationality; it reflects reasoning and a peculiar dedication to thought. Most of the factors that engender this idea can be derived by Gilman's perception of a flawless paradise, lying mainly within the vision of a utopia. As readers delve deeper into this motif, they slowly unravel subtle enlightenment ideas that hint towards the genesis and philosophies of rationality. Utopias, while most widely accepted as a modernist thought, can be made from rational reasoning and action.
First, Herland's intentional rebellion against tradition emerges as a crucial characteristic of their society, one that triumphs in progression and rationality. A civilization governed by self-criticism and reexamination is a clear indication of such practices and ideologies. Moadine tells the boys that "[they] have no laws over a hundred years old, and most of them are under twenty" (54). In contrast with tradition, Herland society is perfectly acquitted to change as the world around them changes and new problems emerge. From their perspective, laws are meant to serve their present culture, accustomed to their existing conflicts.Secondly, Herland is based off of the concept of a greater good, in which its inhabitants and citizens sacrifice their pleasures for the larger community. The entire community works as a unified force to conquer common problems that conflict with productivity. For example, Herland as a whole works together to control populations through birth control: "at first each woman bore five children; and that, in their eager, desire to build up a nation, they had gone on in that way for a few centuries, till they were confronted with the absolute need of a limit. This fact was equally plain to all--all were equally interested' (60). The women surprisingly sacrifice the beauty of multiple children and restrict themselves to only one. This same ideology of equality and sharing is further illustrated when Somel justifies their decision: "we each have a million children to love and serve--our children" (60). Their use of teamwork and universal cooperation lie within the core ideologies of improvement, and, in turn, share connections with rationality.
First, Herland's intentional rebellion against tradition emerges as a crucial characteristic of their society, one that triumphs in progression and rationality. A civilization governed by self-criticism and reexamination is a clear indication of such practices and ideologies. Moadine tells the boys that "[they] have no laws over a hundred years old, and most of them are under twenty" (54). In contrast with tradition, Herland society is perfectly acquitted to change as the world around them changes and new problems emerge. From their perspective, laws are meant to serve their present culture, accustomed to their existing conflicts.Secondly, Herland is based off of the concept of a greater good, in which its inhabitants and citizens sacrifice their pleasures for the larger community. The entire community works as a unified force to conquer common problems that conflict with productivity. For example, Herland as a whole works together to control populations through birth control: "at first each woman bore five children; and that, in their eager, desire to build up a nation, they had gone on in that way for a few centuries, till they were confronted with the absolute need of a limit. This fact was equally plain to all--all were equally interested' (60). The women surprisingly sacrifice the beauty of multiple children and restrict themselves to only one. This same ideology of equality and sharing is further illustrated when Somel justifies their decision: "we each have a million children to love and serve--our children" (60). Their use of teamwork and universal cooperation lie within the core ideologies of improvement, and, in turn, share connections with rationality.
Sunday, February 16, 2014
Herland: A Blend of Literary Culture
Over the course of many centuries, the literature of American history has laid in constant debate with one another. Two movements that straddled the 20th century were realism and modernism.Realists depicted life as it was through a "realistic" perspective. They perceived life with the utmost accuracy, paying heavy attention towards the dull truth behind society. This movement redefined pessimism and illustrated it through through the form of literature, where stories actually reflect plausible, tenable events in plausible, tenable situations. As history approaches the 1920s, many of these ideologies become outdated and lose their popularity. Modernism, realism's successor, made its first appearance during this time. Modernist thought, in heavy contrast with realism, agrees with the idea of human power and its ability to reshape the world around it, establishing both an underlying theme of progression and optimism within its pieces. It was at this time (1920s) that people truly questioned the role of women in culture and began crediting them for their value. Feminism was at its climax, and the centennial battle for equality soon came to a promising end for women spanning the nation. Only years later, the ratification of the 19th amendment marked a milestone for gender equality in American history.
Charlotte Gilman incorporates both of these styles and their accompanying ideologies into a sting story, and, in turn, engendering not only a book, but instead a blend of literary culture. Gilman's "Herland" was published in 1915, during a times of great social and literary movements.This ideal timing was a key factor in the development and production of her story, a catalyst for its foundation of feminism. Realism, as it pertained to the time period, is evident through Gilman's portrayal of the male characters, or merely a representation of the gender. Through their voice, she visualizes the relationship between men and women, where women were often restricted by the burden of stereotypes. Terry, the one who funded the expedition, jokes with his friends and hints towards his own superiority: "'You'll see, he insisted. 'I'll get solid with them all-- and play one bunch against the other. I'll get myself elected king in no time--whew! Solomon will have to take a back seat!'" (7). The narrator even associates civilization with manhood: "'But they look--why, this is a civilized country!' I protested. 'There must be men'" (10).With these comments, Gilman firmly establishes the misconception of female inferiority. Modernism, just to reiterate, focused towards progression and the ability to ameliorate society as a whole. This idea of self-criticism and perfection is reflected by "Herland," a supposedly utopian society where its citizens are in uniform excellence. Gilman writes: "Everything was beauty, order, perfect cleanness, and the pleasantest sense of home over it all" (16). She continues to flaunt female superiority: "These were merely athletic--light and powerful. College professors, teachers, writers--many women showed similar intelligence but often wore a strained nervous look, while these were as calm as cows, for all their evident intellect" (19). Her characters, as characterized by Gilman, are portrayed as equivalents in the face of their male counterparts. Charlotte Gilman's "Herland" seemingly defies stereotypes and promotes a sense of female superiority.
Sunday, January 26, 2014
"The Snake" and the Snake (Relationship to American Literature)
The world around us, in its most simple form, varies among perspective. Each and every pair of eyes sees its own world and to a certain extent, hides what it does not want to see. Nature gives meaning to the words "optimism" and "pessimism" alike. In the same scenario under similar circumstances, objects are often seen through lenses that distort one's own perspective. A snake, for example, is a victim to both ends of the spectrum. To some (optimists), it is a creature of mechanical finesse - a beauty within the shell of individuality - a successful experimentation of evolution and survival. Pessimists, however, apply to the average snake fearful, threatening qualities. It is no longer a God-given creature, but a menacing animal built of sheer hatred - its blackened eyes that pierce through souls - fangs drawn and poised to strike - bodies contorted in unnatural positions.
In contrast with this popularized fear, Theodore Roethke's "Snake" is depicted as a shy animal, shrouded in its own stress and problems. It is seemingly without threat; instead, the "Snake" is portrayed as a victim to harsh conditions (lines 3-5). It is no menacing creature built of sheer hatred, but a childish animal pleading for change. The following stanza reveals a new snake, one that has figuratively escaped its faults and gone forth from its problems. Theodore Roethke's "Snake" and the stereotypical image of a Snake can be related to American Literature through their willingness to visualize another perspective. Over the course of western history, literature has adapted several times to the cultural ideologies. Culture evolves as more people step out of their "comfort zone" and question philosophies and social norms that were deemed appropriate at the time. All intellectual movements have superseded each other due only to a variation in perspective. In the poem "Snake," Theodore Roethke applies an optimistic skin to a malevolent species, exploring past societal views and witnessing another side to the average snake. This ambitious perception paved the way for American history and its literature.
In contrast with this popularized fear, Theodore Roethke's "Snake" is depicted as a shy animal, shrouded in its own stress and problems. It is seemingly without threat; instead, the "Snake" is portrayed as a victim to harsh conditions (lines 3-5). It is no menacing creature built of sheer hatred, but a childish animal pleading for change. The following stanza reveals a new snake, one that has figuratively escaped its faults and gone forth from its problems. Theodore Roethke's "Snake" and the stereotypical image of a Snake can be related to American Literature through their willingness to visualize another perspective. Over the course of western history, literature has adapted several times to the cultural ideologies. Culture evolves as more people step out of their "comfort zone" and question philosophies and social norms that were deemed appropriate at the time. All intellectual movements have superseded each other due only to a variation in perspective. In the poem "Snake," Theodore Roethke applies an optimistic skin to a malevolent species, exploring past societal views and witnessing another side to the average snake. This ambitious perception paved the way for American history and its literature.
Sunday, December 15, 2013
"Death of a Salesman" and Motifs
While searching for relationships to an in-class text, I uncovered a few motifs that recur over the course of Arthur Miller's play, "Death of a Salesman." These ideas play a crucial role in the development of characters and their relationships with one another. As the characters grow and interact, the plot unravels according to their actions and contact with one another. Two of the most influential motifs in the play are denial and the American dream. Both of them can be seen in the development of Willy, the father in the Loman family, and Biff, one of his sons.
The Lomans as a family live in constant denial. Willy Loman lives in fantasy world where he achieves ultimate success that he had always dreamed of as a child. In his head, he is "well liked" (21) and a renowned man in the business world. Willy often returns home bragging, having "sold a nice bill there" (19), further emphasizing and defining his natural ego. However, his optimism and false confidence live a short life. His wife, Linda, is the voice of reality, reassuring him that he has not succeeded through subtle comments that are not too direct. She may remind him that the payments on the mortgage or household utilities have left them "a little short again" (51) in terms of money. Willy also accepted a donation from his neighbor Charley, treating it as a paycheck for his efforts. Throughout the play, he experiences reality and quickly tucks his head away from the truth, hiding in his dreams of denial. This also applies to Biff, his son. Biff, as seen by his father, is useless. He is a 34 year old man who still does not have a stable job. He believes in happiness over wealth and patiently waits for fate to come, denying his failure. However, near the end of the play, Biff breaks down and accepts his failure, claiming that he is "[a] buck an hour" (98). Denial is clearly a recurring theme throughout the story and is merely a product of the family's differing interpretation of the American dream. The American dream is also a motif in the story, and is responsible for the family's numerous disputes. Having associated success with wealth, Willy is discontent with his son's laid-back, calm approach to life. He calls him a "lazy bum" (8), claiming his inability to make money is the source of his failure. Biff enjoys the safety of simplicity and happiness in leisure, which is his idea of the American dream. These two, controversial interpretations lead to conflict within the house and the development of both characters. As seen in the text, both denial and the American dream serve unique purposes in the progression of Willy and Biff.
The Lomans as a family live in constant denial. Willy Loman lives in fantasy world where he achieves ultimate success that he had always dreamed of as a child. In his head, he is "well liked" (21) and a renowned man in the business world. Willy often returns home bragging, having "sold a nice bill there" (19), further emphasizing and defining his natural ego. However, his optimism and false confidence live a short life. His wife, Linda, is the voice of reality, reassuring him that he has not succeeded through subtle comments that are not too direct. She may remind him that the payments on the mortgage or household utilities have left them "a little short again" (51) in terms of money. Willy also accepted a donation from his neighbor Charley, treating it as a paycheck for his efforts. Throughout the play, he experiences reality and quickly tucks his head away from the truth, hiding in his dreams of denial. This also applies to Biff, his son. Biff, as seen by his father, is useless. He is a 34 year old man who still does not have a stable job. He believes in happiness over wealth and patiently waits for fate to come, denying his failure. However, near the end of the play, Biff breaks down and accepts his failure, claiming that he is "[a] buck an hour" (98). Denial is clearly a recurring theme throughout the story and is merely a product of the family's differing interpretation of the American dream. The American dream is also a motif in the story, and is responsible for the family's numerous disputes. Having associated success with wealth, Willy is discontent with his son's laid-back, calm approach to life. He calls him a "lazy bum" (8), claiming his inability to make money is the source of his failure. Biff enjoys the safety of simplicity and happiness in leisure, which is his idea of the American dream. These two, controversial interpretations lead to conflict within the house and the development of both characters. As seen in the text, both denial and the American dream serve unique purposes in the progression of Willy and Biff.
Sunday, December 8, 2013
"Death of a Salesman" and In-class Text
Over the course of this (second) quarter, the English II class has thoroughly discussed the many defining characteristics of romanticism. We have explored a variety of pieces, ranging from the detailed beauty of "Billy Budd" to the drunken slumber of "Rip Van Winkle." Romantic writing, as discussed before, is characterized by its exaggeration of nature, whimsical fantasy, and strange interest in sentiments; the literature's foundation lies within the author's ability to perceive reality through a scope of distortion and imagination. Frequently seen in the form of fiction, romanticism is normally conveyed through a poetic tone and ornate writing style to further enhance the supernatural feel. On the other hand, realistic writing focuses on accurate depictions of life, paying heavy attention towards the dull truth behind society. Its writing often reflects common, shared troubles or ideas universal to the population. As a result of its clear, visible intention, realism is often presented through the simplicity of vernacular diction, countering the romantic's dramatic styles. In "Death of a Salesman," Arthur Miller explores the lives of a middle-low class family, drawing emphasis towards their intricate relationship and recognizable problems. In general, realistic writing is far more upfront and obvious than the decorated and complex ideas of romanticism.With such differences, finding a relative romantic piece was far more than a simple task; it became a daunting challenge. I revisited the texts, skimmed through the pages, delved deeper into the text, and tried to uncover themes and potential similarities. Despite my effort, I came out of the anthology, for the most part, empty-handed. At first, the styles of literature were evidently opposites. Realism was a movement in response to romanticism, completely countering its behavior in writing. However, as I spent more time with the stories, I began drawing connections between "Death of a Salesman" and "Rip Van Winkle."
Rip Van Winkle is popular among his fellow villagers, renowned for his good intention and willingness to help. Irving describes him as "a great favourite among all the good wives of the village," (457) as well as a man of interest, children "hanging on his skirts, clambering on his back" (457). He is characterized by an aura of camaraderie and overwhelming charm. However, his wife, Dame Van Winkle, burdens him greatly with her relentless scoldings and berating. She was a villainous character in both the eyes of Rip himself and the community. One day, her spiteful attitude and aggressive demeanor "routed" (458) Rip Van Winkle from the village into the wilderness. Rip, having escaped the pressure of civilization, immersed himself in nature's beauty, soaking in the serenity of the forest. Drowned in isolation, he steps away from reality and spends twenty years at rest.Willy Loman, a middle-aged salesman, is delusional, lost in a sea of dreams, consumed by overwhelming feelings of guilt and failure. He is also a victim of fantasy, although his comes in the form of a mental disorder (schizoaffective disorder). Characterized by his narcissistic, egotistical personality, Willy wallows in his fake success. He believes he is both "well liked" (21) and a successful salesman. He would return home having "sold a nice bill there" (19), lying to both his family and himself. Willy lives in constant pursuit of success and is not willing to accept his fate. His condition is merely an outlet, in which he can escape the harsh realities of his failure. Willy is aware of his incompetence (because he is constantly reminded by his wife), but uses his fantasy to liberate himself from the guilt and unfortunate truth. Both Rip Van Winkle and Willy Loman use the false hope in fantasy as a means to escape the burdens of reality, whether it be in the form of a wife or the guilt of failure.
Rip Van Winkle is popular among his fellow villagers, renowned for his good intention and willingness to help. Irving describes him as "a great favourite among all the good wives of the village," (457) as well as a man of interest, children "hanging on his skirts, clambering on his back" (457). He is characterized by an aura of camaraderie and overwhelming charm. However, his wife, Dame Van Winkle, burdens him greatly with her relentless scoldings and berating. She was a villainous character in both the eyes of Rip himself and the community. One day, her spiteful attitude and aggressive demeanor "routed" (458) Rip Van Winkle from the village into the wilderness. Rip, having escaped the pressure of civilization, immersed himself in nature's beauty, soaking in the serenity of the forest. Drowned in isolation, he steps away from reality and spends twenty years at rest.Willy Loman, a middle-aged salesman, is delusional, lost in a sea of dreams, consumed by overwhelming feelings of guilt and failure. He is also a victim of fantasy, although his comes in the form of a mental disorder (schizoaffective disorder). Characterized by his narcissistic, egotistical personality, Willy wallows in his fake success. He believes he is both "well liked" (21) and a successful salesman. He would return home having "sold a nice bill there" (19), lying to both his family and himself. Willy lives in constant pursuit of success and is not willing to accept his fate. His condition is merely an outlet, in which he can escape the harsh realities of his failure. Willy is aware of his incompetence (because he is constantly reminded by his wife), but uses his fantasy to liberate himself from the guilt and unfortunate truth. Both Rip Van Winkle and Willy Loman use the false hope in fantasy as a means to escape the burdens of reality, whether it be in the form of a wife or the guilt of failure.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)