Forgotten Heroes in The Song of Solomon

 

    A central theme in The Song of Solomon is flight. More specifically, the flight of men. But what happens to the women in this story? 

    Once the men "fly away," we don't know what happens to them. But we do know that they are gone, and the people left behind are the only ones who can continue their legacy. For example, Solomon's wife, Ryna, was abandoned by his "flight" and left to raise their twenty-one kids alone. Even the song that the children in Danville sing depicts this scene, "O Solomon don't leave me here / Cotton balls to choke me / Buckra's arms to yoke me." While Solomon and Ryna both suffered the terrors of slavery, Solomon was the only one to unearth freedom. This pattern is repeated once again with our main character, Milkman. 

    The most important women in Milkman's journey are Pilate, Hagar, his mother, and his sisters. Whilst Pilate raises Hagar independent from men, Milkman's mother and sisters are overshadowed by him and his father. Morrison reveals this quite later in the book, in a section through Lena's perspective. Although brief, we learn a lot about what might be the reality of their family dynamic, where the sisters have given up their childhood to raise Milkman. I think it is interesting how Morrison chose to include this after we have become sympathetic towards Milkman. Throughout the second half of the novel, his sisters establish their independence through hard work, while Milkman takes a road trip to learn how to fly. 

    Pilate on the other hand, seems to represent an "untethered" character, and is literally missing a navel. She is loving and fiercely loyal, contrary to the men in her family. At the end of the novel, Milkman says, "without ever leaving the ground, she could fly." Without leaving behind her loved ones, Pilate created a life and identity for herself. Her daughter Hagar, however, becomes heavily infatuated with Milkman. This only leads to disaster, with Milkman not willing to commit emotionally. When he leaves, Hagar is devastated and falls into a state of depression, eventually passing away. This happens at the same time that Milkman makes his enormous discoveries, and is about to make his "triumphant return" home. I believe that Morrison intentionally overlapped these scenes, in order to contrast the state of the two characters. In the end Milkman takes his flight, leaving behind the ground where the body of Pilate lays. 

Post-War Limbo

"You are all a lost generation"

- Gertrude Stein

    It can be inferred that Gertrude Stein is talking about the generation most affected by World War 1. But how did Hemingway, who was one of this generation, interpret this quote in The Sun Also Rises?

    The novel starts with a very sarcastic summary of Robert Cohn's life. What's interesting about this is that Robert is the only (main) character that was not directly harmed by the war. Jake and his friends seem to have plenty of criticisms of Robert, but generally allow him to tag along. As discussed in class, the use and non use of irony and sarcasm could represent a sense of dark humor developed from the war. Robert not only lacks in the other's humor, but he has a frustrating sort of blind hope. His extended pursuit of Brett seems to anger the others. A theory that I have slightly developed is the post-war limbo. The other main characters all lost something in the war and are not shown to be boding well. For example, Brett lost her husband and is constantly trying to fill the hole he left behind, Mike Campbell uses alcohol to distract himself. Cohn's aspirations to be with Brett represent characteristics that they have lost, evoking bitterness. These characters are caught in a state of numbness, always returning to the comfort of distractions.

    In the final scene, Brett and Jake meet in a cab, reflecting our first introduction to them. This parallel emphasizes the sense that nothing has really changed. Despite their eventful journey through Spain, they feel they have no choice to return to their previous way of life. Brett will never be content with Jake and Jake will always love Brett. 

    It is interesting to note that Hemingway later included Gertrude Stein's quote to contrast the excerpt from Ecclesiastes. The introduction reveals that Hemingway ultimately criticized Stein's generalization, after living through experiences that proved her wrong. Although The Sun Also Rises could be interpreted as pessimistic, there is also a vision of hope that is portrayed through Jake's adventures in Spain and the lasting bonds with his friends.

Investigating The Stranger

   

        By the end of the first chapter from, The Stranger by Albert Camus, I was left hooked. Reading this book felt like gliding through the events of Meursault's life along with him. But this strange almost "dreamlike" state that he lives in, raises so many questions. The biggest being what is this dude's problem?

    First, I would like to lay out some interesting evidence from the first few chapters of the book. On first glance, it might seem that Monsieur Meursault is simply a clueless, emotionless vessel with no self-awareness*. Actually, that would be pretty accurate, until you notice the subtlest hints of human sentiment. Our first encounter with this is his possible guilt surrounding the death of his mother. Although he never truly expresses any guilt outright, we could interpret his dialogue to his boss as a hidden way of expressing his feelings. However, he considers his decision to send his mother to the old people's home very logically, and doesn't seem to feel much regret. A couple more absolutely absurd chapters fly by and we can only watch as Monsieur Meursault digs himself into a deeper hole.

    Unsurprisingly, things take a turn for the worse in chapter six, when he literally kills someone. Now if that wasn't a wake up call for him I would be seriously concerned. But alas, he only shows the tiniest morsel of emotion regarding the crime he has just committed. However, his interview with a lawyer reveals some notable information. Meursault says, "my nature was such that my physical needs often got in the way of my feelings" (Camus 65). Now that explains a lot. He sleeps because he's tired, he eats because he's hungry, he kisses a girl because it feels good, and he pulls the trigger because he's in pain. This guy seriously never has a goal, whether on a day-to-day basis or in his overall life.

    I would like to go back to chapter five, when Meursault has a talk with his boss. The conversation ends with his boss telling him that he has no ambition and Meursault thinks, with no perceptible sadness, that he lost his ambitions when he gave up his studies. So is he the way he is because of this?  Is his lack of ambition the explanation for his prioritization of physical needs? I think his situation is far too complicated to be reduced to this conclusion. We would also have to take into account his lack of self-analysis which he reveals he is aware of... but that would be a whole new discussion (not for today). I'm sure this book will have a nice, satisfying ending that clears everything up...

    

 *Reading his perspective felt like playing a video game for the first time and growing increasingly frustrated that you can’t see anything about your avatar except for its forearms and hands, before finally figuring out how to use a birds-eye view. Maybe this is just a me problem.

Septimus and Clarissa on Death

“Fear no more the heat o’ the sun / Nor the furious winter’s rages.”     

- William Shakespeare

Cymbeline Act 4, Scene 2

    In Virginia Woolf's, Mrs. Dalloway, Septimus Smith and Clarissa Dalloway seem to be entirely different on the surface. Their characters are first merged by their enjoyment of this quote from Cymbeline. The "sun" is meant to represent death, and, throughout the course of the book, both characters spend an extensive amount of time thinking about their existence. Our first impression of Clarissa's thoughts about death is her anxiety surrounding aging and time. Having endured the deaths of her parents and sister, she seems to be extremely aware of the dangers of life and inevitability of death. However, Clarissa also appreciates the beauty of the world, as seen by her pleasant walk to buy flowers. The line from Shakespeare helps her to accept mortality as a comfort instead of something to be feared.

    Septimus, similarly, is portrayed as appreciating the simple beauty of the world while also holding strong feelings towards the corrupt nature of human society, which is a factor in his suicidal ideation. In one scene, he is walking in the park when he notices the breath-like movement of the trees, only to be sent into a spiral by the noisy sounds of human life around him. In the last moments before his suicide, Septimus expresses that he does not want to die. Instead he feels as though death is the only escape from Holmes, who he sees as the epitome of human evil. Just before he jumps, Septimus thinks to himself, "life was good...the sun hot"(Woolf 146). This appears to reinforce his desire to live, which makes his suicide additionally meaningful. His decision is not an act of cowardice, as Holmes suggests, but a final act of defiance against oppression. 

    These storylines meet once again when Clarissa learns of Septimus's death. Initially, she is offended that the mention of death is brought into her party, which is an important event for her. But, as time progresses, she experiences an eerie connection to Septimus in his final minutes. Clarissa recognizes his decision just as Septimus had--an act of defiance. She is able to sympathize with his struggles, his hatred of Sir William, and his criticism of society. The news of Septimus's suicide prompts Clarissa to remember the line from Cymbeline, and she seems to further embrace the beauty of death. Thus, these two characters are able to find some semblance of peace, in life and in death. 

    

    

A Guy Riding the Escalator + the Meaning of Life?

    What makes a book a book? When one thinks of average literature, the theme is a key element that comes to mind. A main theme in The Mezzanine, by Nicholson Baker, is difficult to discern if there is any at all. In 5th period we discussed what Baker might be trying to convey with this novel. Some ideas we brainstormed were the appreciation of trivial things, nostalgia, and being comfortable alone. Many of us seemed to have come to the conclusion of a positive message.

    Our class's most recent discussion was centered around the relation of Aurelius's statements and the book. Aurelius, according to Howie, possesses "unrelenting and morbid self-denial" (Baker 124). The placement of the excerpts from Aurelius's book is particularly jarring. Throughout the book, the reader gets hints of Howie feeling trapped in his cycle of corporate work and everyday life. However, he glosses over these thoughts very quickly and it is easily forgotten. So, when Howie got upset by the excerpt, I was prompted to think about him as an actual person in the world--an average, forgettable corporate worker. Is Baker using Howie as an example of a meaningful life? Or the opposite? 

    To be honest, thinking about these questions hurts my brain. I have decided that my interpretation of the theme is evoking thought. As Mr. Mitchell mentioned many times, this book can effect your perspective on life. Even if I choose to quickly move on from the contents of The Mezzanine, the narrator's ability to notice 135 pages of details and memories from his journey up an escalator, certainly made a lasting impression on me. Not only is Howie incredibly absorbed in the present, he is hyper-aware of how his past has affected the person he is.