Beowulf Revisited

Heaney's translation of Beowulf added a greater coherence and fluidity to the work that I felt was missing from my original attempt at the original version. The starkly religious tones still shone through, though this time seemed to be resulting from the fantastical exploits described, rather than the purpose of the text itself being philosophical. Although the translation did little in changing my original opinion towards the text's merit and relevance, it certainly made for an easier read. 

Revisiting Naked Lunch

Re-reading Naked Lunch has certainly been a rewarding experience. Now with a far greater knowledge of what to expect from the work, I feel as if I was able to appreciate Burroughs' style far more and to appreciate certain themes and motifs that I would have otherwise missed. Two strains from the work particularly stood out for me. Firstly, Burroughs' treatment of women throughout, which quite frankly is incredibly disturbing. There are several examples of women being beaten up, killed and maltreated throughout the work, the extent of which seems to have escaped me upon the first reading. The reasoning for this being the case, I felt, could be best explained from the section of the novel when 'a horde of lust-mad American women rush in', screaming 'f*** me! f*** me!'. This seemed to suggest Burroughs experiencing the pressure from American society to find himself a wife and to be attracted to women (he was gay), meaning that the violent, negative depiction reflects upon societal norms more than the female gender. I also grasped the sense of Burroughs questioning the very fundamentals language as a tool throughout the work, why some words have such an effect upon us, whilst the overall atmosphere of there being a necessity to question appeared more strongly than upon the first read.

To end, I would certainly recommend revisiting Naked Lunch as a work. I feel as if my first reading was rather overshadowed by my initial aversion and shock to the content that I was not anticipating, meaning that my overall conclusion was rather clouded. Now, however, I feel I can finally appreciate its literary value.

Pnin

Pnin by Vladimir Nabokov REVIEW

Vladimir Nabokov’s novel Pnin depicts a snapshot the ‘thirty-five years’ of exile on the part of its ageing protagonist from his homeland, Russia, and his subsequent inability to ingratiate himself with American society, America being the place where he decides to settle down. This issue of cultural belonging is a theme heavily explored by Nabokov throughout the work. Pnin, despite being ever so many miles away from his birthplace, still has his biological clock centred on Russia. This is seen in his relating his own personal achievements to larger events back in Russia, for example his possible promotion is linked to sharing the year with ‘the hundredth anniversary of [the] Liberation of [the] Serfs’. Pnin is never really able to dissolve into and properly join American society, the image of his ‘wearing rubber gloves so as to avoid being stung by the amerikanski electricity in the metal of the shelving’ is more telling than it suggests at first glance. There is always some sort of a barrier between him and joining America, in this case the gloves. Indeed, in this case such a bond is seen as hazardous, as seen in the ‘amerikanski electricity’. Pnin desperately searches for a way to ‘become American’ and eventually realising that this cannot be achieved via emotional means he seeks to physically and literally become American. This is done through his purchasing of false teeth, a ‘firm mouthful of efficient, alabastrine, humane America’. The eventual message Nabokov seems to be enforcing thus must be that one will always belong to the land of their descendants and their childhood.  

Therefore, alongside all his attempts to push into the American orb, Pnin is also very nostalgic of the magical land of his infancy, remembering, with vivacity perhaps greater than that of his current surroundings in America, the ‘days of his fervid and receptive youth’. This sense of a yearning for the past is perhaps the main theme that links Pnin to Lolita, Nabokov’s most famed work.  He is however never really able to revel in this nostalgia, ‘sentiment’ being ‘burdensome’ to him, especially due to how the magical places and people of his youth had all been destroyed through the revolution in Russia. This leads on to a poignant passage in which the narrator speculates over Pnin’s wish to negate his past, in this particular case referring to one of the man’s childhood sweethearts:

‘one had to forget – because one could not live with the thought that this graceful, fragile, tender young woman with those eyes, that smile, those gardens and snows in the background, had been brought in a cattle car to an extermination camp and killed by an injection of phenol into the heart, into the gentle heart one had heard beating under one’s lips in the dusk of the past’

The essential, painful question being is this sort of nostalgia really healthy; when the actual truth is that much of the cause for this yearning for the past has been brutally destroyed.

Pnin is in many ways a humorous work, there being a whole list of intriguing, comedic characters. One has Victor, Pnin’s intellectual sort-of son, who is ‘a problem child insofar as he [refuses] to be one’, Pnin’s former wife, a rather terrible individual who refuses to settle down, moving from husband to husband with ease, and then of course Pnin himself, an example of the protagonist’s comedic value at its greatest coming during one of his mechanical, awkward conversations when he states that he ‘will now speak…about sport’. Pnin is a character with a remarkable sense of punctuality ingrained into him, a distinct individual (phrases such as ‘Pninian’ and ‘Pninizing’ cropping up throughout the work) but there is an overwhelmingly tragic sense about him and the whole work indeed, every laugh Nabokov offers comes in a background of deep sorrow and pity. He is an individual appreciative of the ‘security of his study’, so hostile has the outside world been to him, whose life trajectory is summed up in the first few pages of the novel:

‘began rather impressively…but ended, somewhat disappointingly’

Exile has halted the promises of adventure and joy present in his glorious youth and the novel itself shows no hope of things changing. Predominantly depicting the rather menial events of his life (getting new teeth, moving house etc.), the work shows no change in Pnin’s unfortunate position by the end, the last glimpse we have of the man being him travelling yet again to an unknown destination as his ‘thirty-five years of homelessness’ continue. 

A Quick Note on 'The Marriage Plot'

A Quick Note on ‘The Marriage Plot’

I thoroughly enjoyed this novel by Eugenides, a modern take on the traditional marriage plot, which relates a period of great self-development in the lives of its three protagonists in a bildungsroman-like manner, to such an extent that I’d really felt that my own odyssey with the characters was reaching its rather abrupt end. Leonard comes to realise that his manic depression is a problem that only he can sort out, Madeline matures from her originally stance as an impractical romantic whilst Mitchell goes on his own period of re-evaluation, done through religious means but not necessarily a religious one. Intelligence eludes off the pages of the work, not only through the hundreds of textual allusions and excerpts (which seems to suggest the importance of literature and textual analysis on the wider scheme of personal development), but also through Eugenides distinct portrayals of matters such as depression. The style of writing, namely re-evaluating events of the recent past from a place in the present also conveyed this overriding sense of analysis. I also found the tri-narrative structure to be rather effective, enforcing the idea that there is always more than one side to the story and so really giving the reader a sense of the wider picture. An inevitable question would surely be how does it compare with the books of Austen, Eliot and that famed literary crowd that it loosely attempts to emulate? In my opinion, due to the loss of the finite, eternal sense of marriage that predominates these earlier works, the interest in the essential marriage plot was limited. Leonard’s mental illness, causing much suffering to his marriage to Madeline seemed less of a problem with the ease of a divorce inevitably lurking around the corner. Dorothea Brooke’s frustration over her own marriage thus would certainly grip the reader more than Madeline’s. However, even though the central plot took a step into the background, I found the emotions and thoughts of the characters, particularly Leonard, to be more than suffice as a substitute. Thus, I would favour ‘The Marriage Plot’ over the most recent marriage plot work I have read, ‘Mansfield Park’. For the latter the marriages at the end seemed to be thrown in to as a last-ditch attempt to create some interest, the disappointing characters having failed in that arena, in essence the marriage plot attempted to create a needed distraction from the other aspects of the work. In ‘The Marriage Plot’ I found it to be the opposite. To conclude, I found Eugenides’ work a pleasant, but nonetheless effective read that I thoroughly enjoyed as a break from the more challenging writers that I’ve attempted this summer. Seeing that Leonard’s manic depression was to me the real star of the work, it seems that the author’s earlier works, namely ‘Middlemarch’ and ‘The Virgin Suicides’ would be suitable in terms of future readings, their explorations of the, often demented, human psyche seeming more apt for readers interested in those themes…clearly if I do eventually read them, I will feed back!

The Two Cultures (with a sprinkle of Frankenstein)

30th Post!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Dear all,

In all honesty it's been a pretty hectic week and a bit and so I've unfortunately not been able to write a review on Shelley's Frankenstein, my most recent read, which I found to be a thrilling work with deep social repercussions, that really lived up to its hype. I have however copied the basis of a speech/presentation I have just finished on C P Snow's 'The Two Cultures', which I read about a month ago and found to be particularly relevant to myself, an individual currently studying sciences and humanities at a ratio of 1:1. So below you'll find that speech along with a Prezi presentation (which I have managed to sneak a Frankenstein quote into). Enjoy!

A summary and evaluation of C P Snow's 'The Two Cultures'

https://prezi.com/0grr6egnykxy/the-two-cultures-a-review/#   

(Click)

The book I decided to read over the summer was ‘The Two Cultures’ by C P Snow. Snow was by training a scientist, but by vocation a writer of fiction and so was perhaps in one of the best positions to comment on the issue that I shall go on to describe. The book itself contains notes from his controversial 1959 Rede Lecture, a self-re-evaluation four years later and an overall analysis on the worth and relevance of Snow’s suggestions nowadays by critic Stefan Collini. 

The work centres on the issue of the void between the world of literature and the humanities and the world of the sciences (click), something which Snow sees as spiking in the United Kingdom and instead of merely being a loss of contact, the void, in his opinion, has antagonistic traits. Snow sees this as being a massive drawback for societal advancement (click) , especially in a time of ‘scientific revolution’, and so sought out to use this lecture as a means to bring the issue to the forefront, suggest some means to fix the void and more importantly to leave the door open for the thoughts and considerations of others on this pressing issue.

The majority of Snow’s tirade appears as an attack on the ‘traditional’ literary culture, a group whom he terms ‘natural Luddites’ (click) after those who during the industrial revolution smashed up factories in opposition to industrial growth. He attacks literature from its sorest weak-points, namely outlining individuals such as Dostoevsky, who was a heavy reactionary, and T S Eliot, whose seemingly anti-Semitic manner remains as a blot on his otherwise sparkling career. He seems to suggest that individuals such as these, with their harshly reactionary views in fact represent the literary world as a whole. He also mocks the superiority the literary individuals often deign themselves with, noting how many believe that ‘[literature] swim[s] above the underswell of argument in a changing culture.’ Equally Snow undermines this reactionary view, quoting J H Plumb (click) to challenge those who wish for a reversion to the old times when science was a rarity. The main issue I had with this, which I will later outline, is that the parallel criticism for the sciences as being self-centred or too liberal even just was not there and there was a real hint of bias and antagonism against the literatures. 

Snow emphasises throughout the lecture and his afterword that we are living in a time of scientific revolution (click) and equally how it is ‘anti-human’ to oppose it, noting the humanitarian ventures that development in the practical sciences can give rise to (increased aid, injections for horrific diseases, means to improve farming practises so as to feed this growing populace etc.) and how we should seek to encourage scientific revolutions in other countries, speeding up the process that he sees an being inevitable. We’re living in a time ‘when science is determining much of our destiny’ and thus the literary culture needs to adapt itself to the imminent society that will arise, one dominated by science and technology…but it just isn’t doing this, the void between the two worlds stymieing any sort of advancement. (click and leave for 5 secs). 

This problem, this void, in Snow’s opinion, can principally be fixed by education (click). Education at Snow’s time was heavily specialised with one choosing to go to the literary club or the science club as young as fourteen. Through education this mutual ignorance between the two cultures, which constitutes much of their mutual antagonistic attitudes, can be fixed. Through understanding more about one another’s way of thinking, one can develop a greater sense of respect and acceptance of others interests. 

Education also acts as a means for us to instate further the scientific direction in which society is going. Snow gives an example of how our failing to do so in England has led to our lagging in the global race, this is the example of Siemens and Mond (click), who took advantage of science being taught at German Unis at the time to set up mass economic empires, showcasing how our narrow educational mindset has let us down many a time before. Snow also heavily contrasts our education system with the then USSR, often unfavourably. At the time the relative abundance of engineers in the country far superseded that of the UK. Snow is clearly outlining how to get a firmer basis and advance as a state, one needs to adapt their education system and prioritise what is needed, in this case scientists. Education will also add to the humanitarian (click) venture Snow wishes us to follow. Thus the overall message seems to be a demand for us to turn away from disconnected thinking and whether we are a scientist or writer, whichever of the ‘cultures’ we belong to, to get stuck in with the practical side of things and make the world a better place than it is now. Snow is emphasising that although many literary persons would go on to say that the human condition is stuck and un-improvable, the social condition can be made better. This idea of using both cultures for a greater good will inevitably reduce the void. Equally this humanitarian cause nulls the question of whether the void doesn't need to be fixed, whether there’s usefulness in the contention. 

Collini, in his afterword, furthers this suggestion emphasising the need for a ‘larger cultural  whole’. This suggests the need for all of us, in political and social matters, adding our expertise in whatever field we belong to, in order to reach a well-rounded decision. 

Following the talk, once the issues discussed started gaining momentum, a massive backlash occurred. The most shocking, personal and hurtful opposition for Snow’s suggestions came from the literary critic F R Leavis (click). In his responding essay he noted things such as Snow’s ‘utter lack of intellectual distinction’ and ‘his embarrassing vulgarity of style’ and challenged his very position in delivering such a lecture, highlighting how he had failed as a scientist (despite originally believing to have found the means to produce vitamin A in the lab, he turned out to be wrong and gave up science from the embarrassment that ensued) and that his literature left much to be desired (Snow’s literary series ‘Strangers and Brothers’ (click) being of a similar status as 50 Shades of Grey (bit harsh) at its time). Collini, joining the many criticising this personal assault, has suggested that the criticism came more from Leavis’ disdain for Snow’s form of presentation rather than the actual content whilst others have criticised Leavis for this response, noting how emotions got in the way of reason. 

This is indeed a very emotionally conflicting piece of debate (click), having deep roots in history. First originating as an issue debated in the 19^th Century, the first public debate came between Huxley (father of Aldous Huxley) and Arnold, Huxley outlining the need for science for national well being and thus how it should not be overlooked as a subject and Arnold responding that a training in the natural sciences, although producing a useful worker did not, in his opinion, make an ‘educated man’. Equally there is the sense that this is not merely a battle of cultural interests or preference, but one that had deep social roots. Indeed Collini contrasts the ‘meritocracy’ of science, a relatively new way of thinking having been started by those slightly lower down the social ladder than the aristocratic literary critics who held ‘snobbish and nostalgic attitudes’. This was not just a matter of intellect, but also a matter of class…

In reading Snow’s Two Cultures the issue of bias became rather predominant, indeed Collini noting how ‘there can be no other interpretation of his lecture than that it takes towards literature a position of extreme antagonism’. However, despite originally being rather frustrated by this, an individual seemingly wishing to stop the antagonism between the two cultures is approaching one with antagonism himself!, I came to understand the reason for this bias. It is understandable seen in the context of the times. Literature as a force had far greater longevity and has stood for far longer than the sciences, thus literary antagonism for this new, threatening force was far more deep rooted than vice versa and so, in Snow’s eyes, was the overwhelming basis of the problem. Collini however helps to outline how even in a scientific world, we still need both scientific and literary mindsets but looking to the example of politics. Politics needs to be both pragmatic and ideological, the quantitative, pragmatic way of thinking being more scientific whilst the abstract, ideological manner being more literary. We need both!

There is a lot to criticise about Snow’s approach and form of presentation, his lecture being decidedly vague and withheld. Dividing the whole way of thinking into two is incredibly basic, there are many voids within the sciences and the literatures themselves, he suggests education is needed to fix the problem but makes little suggestions of exactly how. He uses extreme examples to illustrate the literary world as a whole and is deeply stereotypical in viewing each individual of each culture as holding such starkly similar views. He also seems to completely neglect the fact that people might not define themselves merely as scientists or literary critics but also see themselves through their gender, religion, nationality, sexuality etc. and that these other divisions might actually deem the ones he’s talking about as negligible. (This is also seen in Collini’s suggestion that this humanitarian aid Snow sees as being needed, inducing scientific revolutions in third world countries, pays no heed to cultural objections that might arise by such a seeming sense of colonialism). He’s also incredibly binary in his conclusion, he neglects the whole argument of this void not even being in existence, the sciences after all being heavily based on metaphors and the imagination (has anyone actually seen an action potential in action here?). However, although the work itself was deeply flawed, the fact that an afterword four years later was needed in order to clear up issues with the first work is deeply telling, it was successful in its ultimate aim…to spark discussion. 

One does have to note how all of this was going on in the 1960s, now, over 50 years later, the question arises as whether 1) the issue is still relevant and if so 2) how far we have improved on fixing the void. It is certain that the hold of science on both intellectual and everyday life has increased multi-fold. We use technology every day, indeed many could not live without it (click). Equally science’s part on the national curriculum has increased substantially, it being required teaching up to the age of 16. Now with science’s hold increasing the number of science-based jobs is also multiplying, meaning that there’s been an even greater focus on the subject from the masses. Snow himself predicted that the arising of molecular biology as a force would significantly lessen this void, it being a part of science without any need of mathematical training for comprehension. Indeed Snow himself termed it ‘a study where painters and sculptors could be instantaneously at home’ and it is also important how biological life is not something so distant from this world as say the cosmos, thus biology is an important factor in linking the two separate voids. 

The void has further been fixed through science being placed on the same a pedestal as an art, just as the literatures and many claiming it to be as politically swayed as its counterpart (the direction and aim of one’s experiments after all being heavily influenced by ones cultural context and surroundings). There has also been the arising of a new sub-culture of learning, ‘science and literature’. Indeed this was rather common in the various university courses I’ve looked over, indeed at one day I was treated to an impassioned plea by one English tutor, a scientist by training, of the need to combine the two cultures. Science fiction has also gone from strength to strength, the perfect combining of the two, moving on from its originators such as Shelley to recent films such as Interstellar and, of course, the Alien franchise. Furthermore there has been an upsurge in what Collini terms intellectual ‘bilingualism’, namely individuals portraying their studies and opinions on complex matters in a manner accessible to the masses, exemplified namely by the scientist Richard Dawkins and the philosopher Alain de Botton to name a few. However, he emphasises how we still need more of this. Essentially one shouldn’t be shut into the void of their own specialisation but, as a matter of necessity, must aim to contribute to the wider global discussion and so aide progression in social, political and economic matters.

As regards to whether the issue is still relevant, I would say certainly. Even though the specific void between the sciences and literatures has certainly lessened, the wider idea of divisions and antagonistic views slackening a society’s development is one that can be learned from and used in a whole variety of social and political contexts today. (click)

Is Beowulf Relevant in Today's Society?

Is Beowulf relevant in today's society?



'Doom of the Lord was law o'er the deeds of every man, as it is to-day'?

Beowulf, the oldest known English text, was certainly of deep contrast to the American Post-Modernism which of recent has come to dominate by reading of late. Written between the 8th and 11th centuries, originating originally in the spoken form, it has often been called the 'foundational epic' of British culture and thus, giving its ancient status, the question that I wished to answer in reading the poem is whether the Anglo-Saxon tale still has resonances in today's society (as epitomized by the opening quote which can be read in the wider scheme of tings as to whether Beowulf itself it still relevant today).

Beowulf is a poem with heavily Christian inferences and allusions, indeed the main theme definitely has to be that of supporting the argument for pre-determination, there being a real sense of the 'destined path' for the characters. Phrases such as 'the Lord has sent him', 'stone-bright the street: it showed the way' (the street symbolizing the metaphysical path which is already laid out for us in life) and 'forced of fate' (the dense fricative alliteration evoking the sense of a force pushing one along through the sound created) are abundant throughout the text. Equally there is a lot of biblical symbolism found in Beowulf, most notably that of Heorot the 'bright and golden palace' of Hrothgar that is polluted and made a threatening lair for the evil monster Grendel. This concept somewhat alludes to the garden of Eden, that pure and grand place, being ruined by the serpent, the devil. Equally it is no coincidence that on Beowulf's last expedition, a clan of twelve accompany him (indicating a nod to the twelve disciples). Due to this there is a real sense of Beowulf acting almost as a parable of sorts, the protagonist's pious life being one which we should all aim to replicate and this could be seen by some, in an increasingly secular society, as undermining the work's relevance considerably.

Beowulf also depicts a rather foreign and distant way of life, not merely thanks to the supernatural contact. The society portrayed is one based upon honor and war, one section indeed praising a ship for being decorated with 'weapons of war and weeds of battle, with breastplate and blade', the w and plosive alliteration in the section adding to the exaggerated sense of greatness. Furthermore one of the other main themes of the work is questioning the then serious issue of battles arising in order to avenge a death, and this could seem rather irrelevant for today's society. However the fact that this question is explored on essentially human terms, Beowulf saying that 'it beseems us better friends to avenge than fruitlessly mourn them' (indicating that physical acting on an individual's death through war is beneficial through the sense of closure that it affords) means that it is transcendent. Conversely, much of Beowulf's political power and influence arises from his mighty deeds and battle wins, this perhaps further adding to the cause of insignificance. However, the essential moral that physical accomplishments are not enough, as exemplified by the line 'thou art strong of main and in mind art wary', reflects the need for being well-rounded in terms of the mind and good deeds also. Furthermore, the fact that ultimately Beowulf is most praised as a leader for  '[caring] for [his] own; [not seeking] feuds, nor falsely [swearing] ever on oath' outlines the concept of our good deeds towards others as superseding other sorts of accomplishments in importance.

Thus essentially Beowulf remains relevant even in today's society primarily through the timeless moral teachings that it presents, whether it be the sense of karma (as seen in 'their wage was paid them!'), the sense of hope in that evil can be overcome (as seen in 'the worm (dragon) was consumed'), the importance of family (as showcased in 'kinship true can never be marred in a noble mind!') or the insignificance of wealth in the wider scheme of things (as illuminated by the imagery of 'dear-decked swords eaten with rust'). These sorts of morals remain valid today, regardless of whether they are approached through a religious lens or not and there lies Beowulf's power. Equally Beowulf remains just as an exciting read as it was at the many years ago at its conception through the dragons, monsters and heroic battles that fill its pages, that will for sure enchant many even today.

If This Is A Man/The Truce

If This Is A Man/The Truce Book Review

If This Is A Man (first publ. 1947), Primo Levi's first book, and its successor The Truce (publ. 1963) are two works best read together, the former details Levi's time spent in the hellish extermination camp Auschwitz, whilst the latter tells of his gradual return back to home and some sense of normality. I found both to be exemplary, emotional works, being substantially levied to another level of appreciation thanks to Levi's wise, gentle, calm tone maintained throughout despite the shocking and horrific events being described and ended up finishing the duo with a far more hopeful outlook on life and the human seed in general than ever before.

The main aim and effect of such an extermination camp as Auschwitz in Levi's opinion is to first and foremost destroy destroy the man psychologically, so that he loses any sense of humanity, this meaning that by the time it comes to destroy him physically there's nothing much left to destroy. Hence the prisoners being 'locked in, naked, sheared and standing', the sibilant sounds along with the use of the verb 'sheared' helping to enforce the idea of livestock, not humans, being treated here. One loses there name to become merely a number in a long list of others, it being his individual quirks and flaws that makes a man just that, thus the line 'melting into a single substance' in describing the camp inmates is particularly disturbing. To be a man also one must have an opinion, an opinion which they are able to act upon and voice, a quality that was viciously beaten out of the Jews at the hands of the Nazis, as seen in the saddening line, 'here we are, docile under your gaze; from our side you have nothing more to fear; no acts of violence, no words of defiance, not even a look of judgement'. Here it is the repetition of negating, negative lexis that adds to the bleak outlook. Equally the sense of the long-term mind-set lost in Auschwitz and ability to plan for the future is something that one must appreciate in its existence, the line 'the problem of the remote future has grown pale to them and has lost all intensity in face of far more urgent and concrete problems of the near future' exemplifying this overwhelming sense of the short term.  Perhaps the main quality of man that Levi outlines as being lost in such an environment is his ability for compassion, a 'every-man-for-himself' mind-set coming to dominate matters, indeed it is noted that 'survival without renunciation of any part of one's own moral world...was conceded only to very few superior individuals, made of the stuff of martyrs and saints'. Reading and envisaging these scenes I really came to appreciate the fact that I have the ability to showcase and utilize such ways of acting and felt a huge incubus to voice my opinions, stick to what makes me an individual and most importantly be kind, for not everyone in this world has the ability to do so. Levi, in his afterword, reflects that it was perhaps his sustained insistence to 'recognize always, even in the darkest days, in [his] companions and in [his self], men, not things', though certain guide-like figures were needed to ensure that this belief was maintained against the opposing force of Nazi brutality. The most notable of these guides is Lorenzo, a local civilian who gave Levi food for around 6 months meaning that Levi, besides benefiting in terms of the typical type of nourishment, was spiritually nourished. Indeed, he makes the following observation:

'his humanity was pure and uncontaminated, he was outside this world of negation. Thanks to Lorenzo, I managed not to forget that I myself was a man'

Thus another clear message of the two books is never to lose one's humanity, this is more essential and important than our physical needs. Critic Paul Bailey, integrating one of Levi's morals in If This Is A Man ('we must not become beasts; that even in this place one can survive, and therefore one must want to survive, to tell the story, to bear witness; and that to survive we must force ourselves to save at least the skeleton, the scaffolding, the form of civilization') indeed reflects how both works, and all of Levi's writings in general, essentially 'remind us that the scaffolding is worth saving.' 

The sense of lost humanity only starts to be revoked near the very end of If This Is A Man, being regained further in The Truce, leading to beautiful and, most importantly, hopeful scenes. One of the main turning points in the two works comes when an individual in the same hospital barracks as Levi offers up his ration to Levi and two others, who have been slaving all day to get food supplies, the camp having been evacuated by the Germans. Levi notes how 'only a day before a similar event would have been inconceivable', reflecting how slowly, gradually humanity is reviving. Gradually human relationships start to become more important to Levi and his fellow survivors, in The Truce indeed he notes how 'the need for human contact is to be numbered among the primordial needs' and images such as that evoked by the trek in the snow in which 'each [person] like a blind man, [holds] on to the man in front' help to illuminate the beauty of relationships and human contact. Indeed, The Truce acts rather as a celebration of man, in all his forms, shapes, sizes, personalities and nationalities. You have the lovable rogue Cesare (who sells a brass ring brought for four rubles to an unfortunate individual, believing it to be gold, for fifty), the ominous Greek Mordo Nahum who holds the belief that every moment of ones life should be profitable, the cold, hostile Russian Lieutenant who turns out to be 'a passionate fan of tap-dancing in his spare time' and many others. The variety of humanity ends up being celebrated and appreciated in a really heart-warming manner and this is what both books really attempt to do, celebrate man and the human condition, expressing how there is still yet hope.

Despite the essentially hopeful tone to both works, Levi does also face the bleaker skies ahead for man. For instance, liberation from Auschwitz does not lead to an instant rush of joy and happiness, a horrific event has just occurred, with less that 5% of the Italians sent to the concentration camps returning, Levi frequently making biblical allusions (to be more precise allusions from the Torah) in lines such as 'liberty...had not taken us to the Promised Land', a line which, although in the practical sense referring to the length of the process of returning home, on a wider scale reflects how things will never return back or advance to an uncontaminated level of happiness, there will always be dangerous flaws and faults in the human condition, but for every negative flaw, there are a whole multitude to be celebrated. Equally Levi receives several warnings throughout The Truce from various characters, most notably The Greek, that 'this life is a war', inferring that the persecution that has faced the Jews over the centuries will not suddenly stop, even in the face of such an atrocity as the extermination camps being revealed, persecution will always have to be fought against. It is also notable how Levi chose to end The Truce by an a scene inferring how his trauma will not end, the 'Auschwitz caesura' will continue to have a massive effect on him. The last scene refers to Levi's continual nightmare and the voice, that evokes so many negative emotions, returning...

'it is the dawn command of Auschwitz, a foreign word, feared and expected: get up, 'Wstawach' 

I also got a real sense of the importance of literature and language on the human condition and human relationships in general through both works. The former is best seen in If This Is A Man in which Levi struggles to teach a few verses of Dante's to a French camp-mate, eventually making the observation that '[he] would give today's soup to know how to connect' two separate sections. Literature gives a source of spiritual nourishment, which is far more valuable than physical nourishment, it is a means to keep our humanity, something needed in such a dehumanizing place as Auschwitz. The importance of language is a theme that appears frequently throughout The Truce, (though both books are filled to the brim with a whole cacophony of languages whether it be Yiddish, German, Russian, French or Polish) Levi noting how the 'difficulties of language reduced' him and one Russian guard to a 'stunted and primordial' relationship, whilst equally noting how his tagging on with the Greek only occurred through their being 'drawn together by having two languages in common'. Thus Levi's extensive knowledge of languages (at one point he carries 'on the most extravagant and chaotic conversation in Latin' with a Priest so as to find out where the local cathedral is) certainly acted as an influential force in guiding him back home.

Levi notes in his afterword how he doubts that he would have ended up as a writer had it not been for Auschwitz, noting how he felt as if he had books stored in his brain waiting to be released upon his return, hence relating the 'liberating joy of recounting [his] story'. However, although there is a real sense of Levi having written both books for himself, as a means to reveal the story that has to be heard, no matter how unsavory it is, reading them is still an enriching and rewarding process for the reader. If This Is A Man and The Truce are also essential psychological tools, being more an evaluation of the human condition than an account of the events in and out of Auschwitz, as seen in the line 'no human experience is without meaning or unworthy of analysis, and...fundamental values, even if they are not positive, can be deduced from this particular world which we are describing'. There's also the sense of an even more personal reason for Levi writing such an account, a means for closure, indeed the idea of setting up a 'screen' between the horrific past and the present is something expressed frequently throughout The Truce, this perhaps being a reason for the Greek 'workaholic' tendencies, activity being a means to prevent the need to stop and think about what one has just endured. Levi's writing style is extraordinary, despite being so badly treated at the hands of the Germans in the extermination camps and having the full right to present events in a vengeful, exaggerated light or to conversely present the Jews themselves as white, holy, innocent victims, Levi chose the path of neutrality, using the 'calm, sober language of witness'. This neutral, honest depiction adds further weight to what Levi's presenting, the truth speaks for itself and is equally, if not more powerful than the exaggerated accounts of many of his contemporaries. It also makes reading If This Is A Man and The Truce more comfortable than they would otherwise be, the reader being able to judge and evaluate matters in a calmer mind-set, making the experience of reading all the more special. Critic Paul Bailey indeed lauds this 'freedom from self-indulgence' chosen by Levi, outlining his expectations for the duo to be viewed as classics in Britain and America in years to come, as they are already viewed in Levi's native Italy. As always with Levi I found little to criticize about either work and thoroughly recommend them both for individuals looking for a truthful, personal account of events in Poland 1944-5, those who enjoy books with a psychological framework or those looking for an easy, yet thought-provoking and powerful, read.

The Life and Death of King John

The Life and Death of King John Play Review 





King John, one of Shakespeare's less well known works, is essentially a play about power. Indeed, the thirst for power is something that rather dominates the whole proceedings and determines the paths of the various control-hungry, egotistical characters. One of the starkest examples of this vain, power-thirsty mind-set comes when Lewis, the son of the King of France, notes his wonder at seeing 'the shadow of [himself] formed' in the eye of his bride-to-be, Blanche of Castile. Here the main attraction on his part comes through how his ego is expanded through the eyes of a subservient woman. Having watched a production of the play, the question of whether the women in the play are subservient and essentially weak, finding their outspoken and seemingly strong appearance in action as being rather superficial, was one that I chose to focus on, hoping that with close textual analysis some sort of conclusion could be reached...

From the outset it is clear that any sense of strength among the women in the play, in the eyes of their male counterparts, is strongly refuted. The women are frequently hushed in political discussions, as exemplified by King John's remark to his mother Queen Elinor, 'silence, good mother', their opinions being viewed as too emotionally charged and thus of little value. Equally the fact that Richard, the Bastard, is willing to claim his bastardy, as a result destroying any sense of his mother's pride or reputation, reflects how women are somewhat viewed as pawns in the greater game of diplomacy and politics, played exclusively by men. This strain is most evidently seen in how Blanche of Castile is given by her uncle to Lewis, the Dauphin, along with 'five [French] provinces', in effect her being part of the bounty, a possession to be exchanged for political advancement. However, even though the men seem to deny any strength or importance on the parts of their mothers and wives, behind the shadows, every powerful man in the play has some influential women whispering in his ear, having a firm grip with the clogs of power. For instance, Queen Elinor is described as 'an ate, stirring [her son] to blood and strife', the deistic metaphor (an ate being a Greek goddess of discord and revenge) reflecting the depth of her female influence. Equally upon hearing of his mother's death, King John's initial reaction is rather telling. He says:

'mother dead? How wildly then walks my estate in France?'

Here, at last in death, he accepts the obvious, his mother's strong political influence and strength, something that many of the male characters seek to undermine through outlining the ridiculous and nonsensical nature of the women, but which cannot be denied at this point. It is also notable that rather than referring to his initial emotional loss, he looks to political matters, again reinforcing this sense of strength behind the shadows. Thus I would say that the submissive Blanche of Castile is an exception, the other two principle women, Queen Elinor and Lady Constance, being essentially strong characters. Her public submission and weakness contrasts greatly to their overbearing influence and involvement. Thus it is a true shame that this strength is undermined and rather overshadowed by the petty squabbles that occur between the female characters throughout the play's first half. The frequent use of parallel structures between Queen Elinor and Lady Constance helps to illuminate the sense of futility in their squabbles, the chiasmus of 'O, fair return of banished majesty!' and 'O, foul revolt of French inconsistency' adding a rather mocking tone to the works, making the two rather irritable. Indeed the Duke of Austria's demand that 'women and fools, break off [their] conference' is also rather revealing, tying those two groups intrinsically together, women being fools hence. However, given the context of the times, summed up by Lady Constance's sighing that the ground will be '[her] throne' and the frequent appearance of the stage direction 'she may kneel here', it is understandable that this 'flinging out your guts and all' approach to getting a point passed through and to at least be listened to, was in fact necessary and thus the feminist's tutting of these squabbles undermining the cause may somewhat be hushed. Thus to conclude, the women in the play, bar the subservient Blanche of Castile, are essentially strong, acting as the main force for the rising and falling from power of the men they act behind, with whom their fates are intrinsically bound (as seen in Lady Constance's dying soon after hearing of the kidnapping of her dear Arthur). Although this is somewhat undermined by their petty, annoying squabbles that, to the audience watching the play, might come to define them, with a contextual understanding one comes to be slightly less critical of their actions, still sticking by the label of strength.

I was also particularly struck by the power of two other forces in the play, that of the Church and the influence of goodness. To start with, the power of the Catholic Church, which is itself embodied by the character of Cardinal Pandulph, is best summed up by Lewis the Dauphin's remark that 'if [the church says] ay, the king will not say no' and indeed it is rather notable how the corrupt, politically-involved organisation is perhaps the most power hungry of them all. For example, Cardinal Pandulph himself tells the Dauphin 'how green you are, and fresh in this old world!', the lexical chain of spring-time imagery, a time of youth, new-birth and innocence, helps to suggest the 'black heart' of the Church, being fully corrupt and well-told in the world of power and influence. Although there are many attempts to ignore the voice of the Church throughout the play, most notably by the titular character, the ultimate fact that he is 'poisoned by a monk', infers that the Church will always have the last laugh, its iron hold on matters being reinforced. Perhaps the only truly good and innocent character in the play is Arthur, Lady Constance's son and in her opinion the rightful heir to the English throne, and the power of his goodness is exemplified in what, at the times of first showing, was often the most popular and moving scene of the whole play. At the hands of his executioner, Hubert, Arthur's goodness ends up getting the better of the man's conscience, Hubert soliloquizing how 'if [he talks] to him, with his innocent prate he will awaken [his] mercy which lies dead', and through the arousal of guilt and pity that Arthur helps to create he manages to escape with his life, for the time being. Furthermore, upon hearing of Arthur's untimely death Hubert makes the remark that '[his] date of life [is] out for [Arthur's] sweet life's loss', the l alliteration and sibilant sounds of the sentence helping to further evoke a deep sense of sadness and the repetition of the word 'life', suggesting that Arthur's goodness has helped to tie the young boy to himself in an unbreakable manner. Thus perhaps somewhat amusingly, the greatest means to gain influence in a play plagued with corruptness, greed and violence is simply to be good.

In terms of general comments about the play, I found most of the characters to be incredibly, frustratingly two-dimensional, united in their blatant thirst for power, or in Arthur's case an unblemished, unchallenged innocence. One of the main exceptions to this general rule seemed to be Richard, the Bastard, who in many ways acts as a precursor to Iago (of Shakespeare's more famous play Othello). Despite accepting the status quo of the times, in terms of the continual struggle for self betterment on the ladder of power, he openly mocks the norm with much wit and intelligence, giving a rather refreshing point of view. Critic A W Schlegel describes the Bastard's role in the play as being to '[ridicule] the secret springs of politics, without disapproving of them, for he owns that he is endeavoring to make his fortune by similar means, and wishes rather to belong to the deceivers than the deceived, for in his view of the world their is no other choice'. Indeed despite mocking 'that smooth-faced gentleman, tickling commodity', portraying self-interest as a deceitful demon almost, and noting how this is a 'mad world' made up of 'mad kings', he nonetheless accepts the state of matters stating that 'gain [will] be [his] lord, for [he] will worship [it]'. I rather felt that in the absence of the Bastard the play would fall into disrepute and I dare say be rather dull, repetitive and boring to the audience. Equally, another slight criticism would be the essential influence on political matters, rather than emotional ones (an ill fruit of this being the abundance of transparent character-types). Furthermore, for one hoping to ingratiate their historical knowledge with such a play, I warn them to stay away. The play makes no mention of the Magna Carta or any other essential events that occurred during the time period, this being explained by Jonathan Bate as a means to prevent the titular character from appearing as a 'baddie' from the offset, allowing the audience to look at him in a more endearing light, without the sense of his mass unpopularity that predominated his rule.

Thus, to conclude, King John, was an interesting way to start my independent exploration of the world of Shakespeare - though I must admit that the in depth manner of school teaching is somewhat preferable with such an artist as Shakespeare (to get any sense of worthwhile meaning I had to cut down what I was looking for in the play from the offset) - and although by no means the best of his plays, its relative obscurity is well understood having been read and watched, I felt that many interesting comments were made about the role of women in politics, the unquenchable flame of power (Lewis the Dauphin noting how 'now 'tis far too huge to be blown out', once one has a whiff of power there's no going back) and the role of the church along with other themes such as legitimacy which upon a second look I will be sure to look into with more detail. Essentially I would say that any Shakespeare play is worth reading, even those lower down on the scheme of greatness can teach important lessons even in today's society.

Junky

Junky by Williams S Burroughs Book Review
  　


Junkie, the first novel by the 'addict artist of the twentieth century', William S Burroughs, acts as a documentation of a specific cultural minority which had been often overlooked or generalised prior to its publication, that of the drug addict. This clear, blunt read has heavily autobiographical content, Burroughs himself having spent much of his life either in the midst of a habit, or attempting to get rid of one. However, as Burroughs long-term correspondent Allen Ginsberg notes, Junkie is merely an 'autobiography of one aspect of the author's career, and obviously cannot be taken as an account of the whole man', this sense being rather evident in the work itself. For instance, the two-dimensional, barely-present character that acts as a representation of Burroughs' then-wife is a mere shadow of the individual of reality...clearly the domestic side of his life was one strain that was emitted from the publication. Junkie, regardless of one's opinion on its literary merit, is certainly useful as a learning tool, giving an honest, neutral presentation of the real effects of junk, Burroughs himself at frequent intervals using phrases such as 'here are the facts', with a clarified, factual writing style reminiscent of non-fiction. Evidently the first question in reading such a documentarian novel is what Burroughs aimed at achieving.

The literary critic Harris seems to suggest that one such aim might be to challenge the moral authority of the reader. Thanks to the in depth, honest style of the work, the reader gets a real sense of the 'underworld linguistics' and whims and practices of 'Junk culture', making the reader rather complicit in the 'immoral' events described. Furthermore, despite the honest, not-always-positive depiction of the Junk world, there is certainly a sense of allure for the danger and action that it encompasses, leading the reader to really question their own moral stance and whether indeed, if in a different world with different circumstances, they would follow a similar course of life as the junky protagonist William Lee. Junkie like Burroughs' later work Naked Lunch also deeply criticises American culture, American bureaucracy and the general American moral mind-set. Primarily, starkly mirroring to Naked Lunch, the frequent images of corruption in high circles (in the Junk world indeed there has been a term invented ('croakers) to describe doctors who will willingly write prescriptions to patients they know to be addicts, it occurs so often), duplicity and hypocrisy are incredibly undermining to any sense of honesty in American society and further enforces the need for one to always question the world around them, the convention, those in power and never to be a slave to the norm and merely accept the corruption 'because that's the way things are'. This sense of corruption, which reaches such an extent that Harris was forced to conclude that 'with the odd exception, the economics of the junk trade are more rather than less ethical than those of the above-ground business world', also undermines the American xenophobic stance towards Junk culture, many of those who are the most obliquely critical being addicts themselves. The need for a change in views is perhaps best summed up by the following image:


'clean-cut, American boy face, a face that had aged but could not mature'
This revealing picture clearly conveys the sense of America as a country, despite maturing in terms of her years of existence, is failing to mature to reach a more assertive stance on a whole variety of subjects...one such area being its position towards drug addiction. This leads onto another one of Burroughs' aims in writing such a work, the wish to challenge mass misconceptions over the stuff he finds so close to his heart. This is done most powerfully, in my opinion, through the stark contrast between the mostly calm and cool-headed character the reader witnesses taking junk, and the violent, uncontrollable monster who we find as an alcoholic. Clearly the thesis is posed that society has been chasing the wrong drug, with the real enemy under their noses all this time. A final purpose for the work that came to mind was more personal for Burroughs himself. He chose to end the former introduction with:


'I am using the known facts as a starting point in an attempt to reach facts that are not known'
This seems to suggest that Junkie might have acted as a means for Burroughs to put all the trauma and drama of the past years of his life on paper, in order for him to reach his own conclusion on the merits of the stuff, whether it be a friend or a foe...

　

The Junk Culture is portrayed in the novel as being an entirely separate, distinct one, as seen in the line 'junk has marked them all with its indelible brand', seeming to suggest that Junkies are a cultural group on their own. This culture is also a cutthroat one, a deep sense of mistrust and violence underlying relationships between addicts in the work, there being various cases of Junkies leaving their friends in stances near-death following a misplaced injection, in order to disassosciate themselves and prevent any trouble from occuring on their part. This culture is also constantly evolving and developing, Burroughs noting how it is 'subject to rapid changes', and indeed this is obviously seen in the arisal in the latter half of the novel, of the 'hipster' Junkies. The Junk Culture is equally seen as a culture that overrides all pre-existing factions whether they be racial, religious or otherwise, Lee taking part in many conversations with 'negro' Junks, in an otherwise racist society. Junk itself is presented as a physical force in its own right, 'a kind of spectral vampire preying on its users' according to Harris, though despite this it is maintained throughout that one can only become an addict through WILLING, consistent exposure to a substance, indeed with some substances such as marijuana there's no addiction at all. Junk to an addict becomes a biological necessity as seen in the phrase 'junk-hungry cells' which acts as a frequent motif throughout the work, blatantly foreshadowing the latter concept of a 'metabolic depedence' on the stuff, this being a phrase excerpted from Naked Lunch. Burroughs uses extreme imagery throughout the work to illuminate the depth of this dependance, whether it be using the vile atrocity that was the Holocaust to outline his point as seen in '[the Junk oppression] was like anti-Semitism under the Nazis', the extreme, somewhat inapproprioate likening emphasing the desperate stance of the addict to use such poor taste. Equally the image of Junkies, 'whining and clinging [to the] sleeves' of the drug-dealers when they are turned down has echoings of the biblical passage where the old woman touches the tip of Jesus' rogue in an attempt to be saved. This use of religious imagery further enforces the importance of Junk to an addict, it taking an almost deistic position. This gripping addiction however is perhaps best exposed through the monster that Lee becomes in its absence, '[licking his] lips and [starting] towards the chest' with a baton in an attempt to whack a cat, 'alert to block any escape route'. The second half of the phrase has particular resonance for Lee is perhaps trying to inforce his trapped nature, being stuck in the clasps of addiction, upon another living thing.

In terms of a casual read, I preferred Junky starkly compared to the other Burroughs' book I have read, Naked Lunch. I found the two to be starkly different, bar the topic of drugs that is commomplace for the two, one would not naturally guess that both were the work of the same author, the writing style contrasting so much between them. Junky being straightforward and factual whereas Naked Lunch was disconnected and chaos-filled. However, this is too simple for me to cast my decision, over which had the easier writing style, in the critical light the disconnect and confusion worked for Naked Lunch further adding to the riotous nature of the society Burroughs wished to portray and accentuating his morals, primarily the need to question and clarify the confusion that surrounds ones-self. Junky also had milder imagery than Naked Lunch, at no such period was I pushed to the extent of retching by it. I found that the salacious and frankly pungent nature of the imagery throughout Naked Lunch somewhat overtook from the purpose of the work itself, that is to outline the need to question all that surrounds us. Even though Junky was not completely absent of disturbing scenes, the factual and honest style made the equally upsetting images more palatable as it acted as a verifying element almost. Equally, in terms of presenting the world of the addict as a distinct culture, an aim that ran through both works, Junkie seemed far more successful in reaching such an aim, starkly contrasting to the chaos and confusion of its sister work. Equally the relatable scenery, emotions and characters made the whole Junk culture seem far more feasible in Junky, the surreal elements to Naked Lunch making it somewhat unbelievable and distant from the human condition. However, as Harris outlines, the two works may not be so far apart as first thought. He outlines the gross difficulty Burroughs found as a writer in sticking to one specific writing style (something he would learn to turn to one of his great literary strengths), accepting this as being a source for difference between the two works, but also insists that both novels share a certain characteristic, their exploratory label. This is outlined in his statement that:

'Junky is in embryonic form an explanatory novel, and experimental text, like all those Burroughs would write after it'

The very fact that the works differ so much thus highlights Burroughs insatiable appetite for experimenting and morphing into different styles and techniques, something that many would say is the main thing that separates him from his contemporaries as a shining emblem of literary greatness.

To conclude, I found Junky to be a relatively easy read, especially when compared with the other Burroughs works I have read, successful in really outlining and describing a separate, alien culture in a factual and concise nature. I would recommend it to anyone looking for any easy entering to the world of Burroughs or anyone who would wish to broaden their horizons, both literally and factually. 

Ceremony

Ceremony by Leslie Marmon Silko Review 

Ceremony, the ‘novel’ by Leslie Marmon Silko, acted as a welcome relief for me following the traumatic experience that was reading Burroughs’ Naked Lunch. The spiritually enriching read was originally planned to be a collection of short stories, before gradually evolving into what critic Momaday terms a ‘telling’. Silko once recalled that the bildungsroman became a ‘magical vehicle’ for her as she wrote it, sending her back ‘to the Southwest land of sandstone mesas, blue sky and sun’, her native home in Arizona from which she had recently relocated from during marriage. Indeed, there is a real sense of appreciation for the landscape and Silko’s love of her homeland really shines throughout the ‘novel’, making it rather magical. The tale is one of race, war and the need for transition as a traumatised Indian American war veteran struggles to settle back into normal life, the American race issues that he was once more oblivious to now having left an ingrained impression thanks to the war. This veteran, Tayo, undergoes a ceremony, a journey of re-evaluation and self-discovery, to at last reach a state of spiritual content, accepting the state of the world around him and regaining a connection to his homeland. I found Ceremony to be a superb work, one of the few that I have read that I would say borders on perfection.  

The importance of the story in Ceremony as a tool for a whole variety of ends is not to be underestimated. Critic Larry McMurtry sums up this importance in the line ‘stories help the people to move from imbalance and disorder back to a kind of balance’. One of the key examples of the power of the story in the novel clearly has to be Tayo’s remembrance of the tale he told his peers trekking through the Japanese jungle in the midst of the conflict. He remembers how the ‘words of the story poured out of his mouth as if they had substance, pebbles and stone exceeding to hold the corporal up’, the powerful imagery here clearly pressing the argument that sometimes the spoken word can have an effect exceeding the practical objects we think we need. Stories are also used as a means to fight against evil forces (as showcased in the line ‘evil is mighty but it can’t stand up to our stories') and to connect to ones ancestors, as conveyed by Tayo’s grandmother making the acute observation that ‘it seems like [she has] already heard these stories before… [the] only thing is, the names sound different’. In essence the same events occur throughout history, just in different contexts and with different individuals, and through this shared experience we can relate to both those who precede us along with those who will follow us. The idea that stories are constantly occurring, you, the reader, are indeed living one right now, is frequently implemented by Silko during the novel as seen in the line ‘you are at an important place in this story’, the word ‘story’ being used instead of the word ‘journey’ which,  given the context of the line, would be the expected term. Throughout Tayo’s ceremony he also develops an increasingly solid connection to his homeland and nature, noting the great ‘comfort’ he feels in ‘belonging with the land’ for example, along with the ‘peace’ felt in ‘being with [the] hills’. The land is also portrayed as a means to blot out the other political and social conflicts of the day. This is exemplified by the following line:

‘the snow-covered mountain remained, without regard to titles of ownership or the white ranchers who thought they possessed it’

The land will supersede the humans who inhabit it, it was there first and it will remain long after we have gone. Tayo undergoes a compassionate relationship with a woman (her name is mentioned one time and I can’t find it :/) who somewhat exemplifies his relationship with the land, as their relationship grows so does his connexion to his surroundings. This line of thought is perhaps best summarised in the following revealing image describing this woman:

‘the sun was bleaching her hooves into faint outlines, merging into the cliff’

Her physical connection to the land surmises Tayo’s growing spiritual relationship with it, as emphasised by the onomatapoeia of 'merging'. Furthermore the novel starts and opens with a poem describing the 'sunrise', this again reflecting how nature encompasses us in its importance. 

Tayo, being of mixed race, is ‘stuck between cultures, neither wholly in nor out of what may be [his] native society: too often [being] viewed suspiciously by both of the peoples whose blood [he] carries’ (something being mixed-race myself, I can relate to) according to McMurtry and indeed the issue of skin colour is a predominant one in the ‘telling’. He often feels as if he were an exile, further accentuated by the fact that he is being brought up by his aunt, following his mother’s ‘sinful’ actions in being coerced to bed by a white man. There is a deep sense of white colonialism and cruelty throughout the work, the white ‘invaders’ stealing the native’s land, setting up fences ‘a thousand dollars a mile to keep Indians and Mexicans out’ (tying them into the same bracket as the coyotes which are excluded by the same fence) and genuinely imposing themselves as the superior race. Their maltreatment of the natives is perhaps best summed up in the following observation by Tayo:

‘white people selling Indians junk cars and trucks reminded Tayo of the Army Captain in the 1860s who made a gift of wool blankets to the Apaches: the entire stack of blankets was infected with smallpox’

What’s even worse is that amidst all of this, the natives themselves fail to criticise the whites, looking down on themselves instead, the view of the white, ‘superior’ race almost being flawless and impenetrable to attack having been ingrained over the years in their minds. This sense of injustice sparks up the most following Tayo’s involvement in the US army because for that brief moment of time, he is treated by all Americans as an equal. Tayo however notes the sad fact that amidst all this appraisal it is ‘the uniform, not [him]’ that is the focal point. This depressing fact has deep resonances for all the Indian veterans, Tayo himself falling into a deep depression, whilst individuals such as his friend Harley turning to alcoholism, this being best noted in the line, ‘he swallowed the beer in a big mouthful like medicine’, alcohol acting as a means to numb out the pain of this worthlessness felt in the aftermath of all this false admiration, the brief high of acceptance preceding an even deeper low. Harley eventually reaches a bittersweet ending, dying and experiencing a war veteran’s funeral. He gets recognised as an American again finally, but only through death. Through the ceremony that Tayo undergoes he becomes gradually more sympathetic to this fact, blaming a wider evil for the conflict, an evil that goes beyond race, as seen in the line ‘[he’d] be fooled into blaming the whites and not the witchery’ and how ‘he had never seen a white person so clearly before’, seeing that they are not such a distant, impossible and threatening race as previously imagined. This ‘witchery’, I believe, refers to the innate sense of evil and wrongdoing that encompasses the human seed, the inevitable badness that we cannot stop or prevent and which will come with every generation, taking form in a whole variety of skin tones. 

In many ways the principle moral of Ceremony is the need to accept change, an inevitable, unpreventable force. Change is portrayed as something that unites all races in their abhorrence towards it indeed, ‘Indians or Mexicans or white – most people are afraid of change’. However change is a compulsory thing for spiritual growth and a sense of fulfilment, as seen in the line ‘transitions that had to be made in order to become whole again’. Even the priests and magicians of Tayo’s native land have to accept change, and indeed many of them do, as seen in the revealing image of one such person’s mare, a ‘skinny pinto mare with hip bones and ribs poking against the hide like springs of an old car seat’. Here the combined traditional and technological imagery reflects the sense that tradition, in order to remain celebrated and utilised, must evolve with the times. Change is not necessarily a bad or demeaning thing either, although the ceremonies of his people are always changing, Tayo notes how the new ceremonies are still ‘complete’, merely being different to those of the older times. This also suggests the argument that we need to maintain and preserve tradition, just as it needs to evolve with the times. This sense is also seen in the grand help that the works of such priests as 'Betonie' have on Tayo's development, and how the old tale of whites being created after the Natives by the work of an evil witch adds much incubus for Tayo reaching a final, balance decision on the whole race issue. Thus to finish this section, the overall moral is the necessity to accept change, whilst maintaining to celebrate the past, or else we’ll be like ‘motionless, dead stars’ (just as nature changes, so must we).

The structure of Ceremony is certainly rather exotic, describing it in her own words Silko describes how she ‘construct[ed] the novel out of many different kinds of narratives or stories to celebrate storytelling with the spoken word as well as the written word’, referring back again to the main theme being the importance of the story. Thus the novel takes the form of a whole euphony of different tales, ‘poems’ and sub-stories occurring often in all at once, in a non-linear fashion. This is also somewhat down to Silko’s own inexperience over the novel form, in her preface she admits her horror realising that she forgot to add chapters to the first manuscript (chapters were never added in the end), joking how ‘[she] should never have neglected that course titled The Novel’. However, although the structure might surprise at first, note how I used the word ‘euphony’ to describe it. The sections flow into one another and add a really organic, mystical sense to the novel, by no means making it confusing or over-complicated. There is also a frequent use of non-metrical, non-rhyming poems (to be honest the only thing that they resemble with regards to the conventional poem is their shape on the page), often used to tell traditional, native legends and fables. One such tale, of the people’s journey of atonement, returning to the Corn Lady following their turning against her follows Tayo’s own journey of self-re-evaluation and so makes it all the more powerful. It also helps to infirm the overall sense that stories are all around us, just as this myth is a famed tale, so is Tayo living out his own story of sorts and how these journeys repeat over the generations. The combination of the Western form of storytelling, the more novel like structure, and the ethnic poems also illuminates how this culture reflects a clash, a mixture of two cultures, though the overall harmonious nature adds a hopeful note, perhaps these two cultures can coexist. I was also surprised to find out that the novel had been written by a woman, the complex emotions of the male characters being portrayed to an incredibly relatable level, and found the ‘telling’ to be incredibly spiritually enriching through the various morals and teachings brought to the forefront. There have been some suggestions of the novel’s slow pace making the read somewhat difficult, this is something I openly refute. The overall feel of the organic ethereal catches ones attention from the off-set and by no means makes for any moments of ennui. Overall, I found Ceremony to be a flowing, spiritually nourishing read that I would recommend to anyone wishing to broaden their horizons. 

Naked Lunch/The Wasteland

Naked Lunch Book Review (with a couple of brief allusions to The Wasteland)

Naked Lunch, the famed work of the controversial American post-modernist writer William S Burroughs, was interesting to read to say the least and is perhaps the most testing novel I have ever read (at frequent points I considered burning the work and tearing it apart I was so appalled initially at its obscene and fragmented nature). Halfway through though, in order to obtain my sanity, I decided to give up attempting to read it for pleasure and turned on the ‘critic’s mindset’ as it were, and it is predominantly with this mindset that I construct this review. The novel follows the often-absent author Bill Lee's trek through various continents and wastelands, the presence of drugs and addiction being rather overwhelming. The places described furthermore make Eliot’s The Wasteland seem like a description of some heavenly paradise they were so destitute, barren, diseased and despair-ridden, the places and the events that unfold being based on Burroughs' years in areas such as Tangiers, though they are exaggerated to a surreal level. As I have said, from the point of view of an individual reading for pleasure there were few redeeming features in the work however, despite this dislike, from a critical perspective I can SOMEWHAT appreciate its worth.

One of the main themes of the novel itself is its damning condemnation of the lifestyle of ‘old, dirty and evil’ America and her quintessential characteristics. Her position on matters of moral contention is patronised through the ugly image of individuals ‘performing cut-rate abortions in subway toilets’ whilst the typical personality types of the alpha-male husband and the beauty queen are decimated in the following two images: ‘the Salvation Army of sincere, homosexual football coaches [singing]’ and the ‘[decapitation of] the American Girls’. The strong position of religion in American culture is equally mocked through the line ‘Emmanuel prophesises a Second Coming’ (which given the context of the novel and its salacious nature has little to do with religion). Burroughs' outlines in his afterword that one of the aims in the novel was ‘to reveal capital punishment {which even now is legal in 32 states of the country} as the obscene, barbaric and disgusting anachronism that it is’ and this is accomplished through a series of pornographic and primitive scenes in which individuals are hung for sexual enjoyment, severely degrading the principles of the practice. The whole ideal is thus mocked decisively along with those who watch on and take no political stance against the scandalous injustice as seen in the lookers-on who ‘shush each other, nudge and giggle’ amidst the spectacle. Burroughs also ridicules American capitalism and vanity as seen in the ludicrous portrayal of an individual who ‘since he has nothing to do…saves all his pay to buy fine clothes and changes three times a day in front of an enormous magnifying mirror’. Equally the description of ‘One Night Stands’, a means through which an individual can prop up their appearance for one more night of desirability before dying instantly afterwards has stark resemblances of the pub talk of The Wasteland and the destruction the birth prevention pills do to an individual’s body. Through attempting to stop normal biological processes we are destroying ourselves. American propriety is equally shamed through the line ‘ten prominent citizens – American, of course – subsequently died of shame’, this especially had resonance in a work that aims to open doors and expose hypocrisy, indeed its name originating for the wish to look into that ‘frozen moment when everyone sees what is on the end of every fork’ and all facades fall apart. Indeed Burroughs’ mission is perhaps best exemplified through the image of ‘flesh [turning] to viscid, transparent jelly that drifts away in the green mist, unveiling a monster black centipede’, the images of corrupt politicians, doctors, sheriffs and the like expose the black immorality that lies behind their clean exterior. To conclude, perhaps the best image to showcase Burroughs’ hatred towards his country is that of the ‘decayed, corseted tenor bursting out of a Daniel Boone costume –…singing “The Star-Spangled Banner”’, America, in his opinion, is little more than a rubbish heap. This utter thrashing of the country’s ideals and morals does indeed add a rather bitter tone that underlies most of the work, however several key, valid points are made by Burroughs, supporting the claim of two of his fans over the ‘insight and prophecy’ of the work. One also gets a sense of an individual who clearly does not fit into his society (Burroughs being homosexual and a renowned drug addict) and that Naked Lunch in part acts as a means for him to unleash his frustrations over this fact. The sense of condemning this lifestyle often viewed as the norm also suggests another message from Burroughs, that of needing to question everything, not taking for granted patriotism, religion, expectations and traditional morality and being sucked into the void of convention, but actively analyzing the way the world is and challenging convention if need be. Burroughs, according to his biographer Barry Miles, indeed believed that the only way to challenge convention was through immorality, perhaps explaining the intensity of immoral images and events in the novel. 

The principle theme of the novel however has to be addiction, something that all the varied individuals described in the work have in common. It relegates them to complete desperation and shame, one individual noting how he’d do ‘anything’ to have another shot of junk (note the italics), the drugs taking an almost maternal role through their comforting influence as seen in ‘the kicking addict nursing his baby flesh’. The junk has a complete hold over the addict’s life and is the only thing that they live for, as seen in the effective imagery of ‘days glide by strung on a syringe with a long thread of blood’ and all this is done despite the material, economic, social and mental destruction that addiction brings about. Perhaps the most effective phrasing in the work to reflect this utter dependence comes in the line ‘home is the heroin’, the changed order of words (it not being the more grammatically sound and expected ‘heroin is the home’) reflects how the drug has taken the place of any physical source of refuge or comfort. Indeed Burroughs’ describes addiction to junk as being a ‘metabolic addiction’, something that is almost unwilling, but a biological need for survival. For me, one of the critical strengths of the work is how a complete picture of addiction is painted, despite the fragmented and disconnected structure that elsewhere predominates.

To be honest I was personally repulsed by the vulgar, vomit-inducing, salacious, contaminated and uncomfortable images that Naked Lunch brought to the forefront and I have to admit that this is the first book when I have ever quite frankly understood the case of the courts that prominently opposed it at its early inception. Indeed, despite the critics Barry Miles and James Grauerholz noting the hilarious tone of the work, personally I think ‘horrifying’ would be a more fitting description. Certainly regardless of its critical value, in terms of reading for pleasure there was no such thing with Naked Lunch for me personally. Furthermore, especially with the capital punishment argument Burroughs ingrained in the work, the pornographic segment aimed to display it, after inducing shock and repulsion then became rather dull and repetitive as successive sexualised hangings occurred, the argument rather losing its power and effect through the presentation. In comparison to works such as Nabokov's Lolita, which addresses similar issues of discomfort and moral backwardness, the over-the-top and blatant approach seemed rather superficial and was far less effective. However, having read the more human after-notes I have since somewhat retracted from my staunchly opposed stance to the work, which at one point had led be to add ‘this is not literature’ to my annotations, and now I can partially understand its position on the literary canon. Moving on from the content to the style, the fragmented tone certainly took adjusting too. Despite at first maintaining a slight sense of coherence, the novel, towards the end became increasingly difficult to decipher before fading into nothingness (this incoherence is somewhat explained by the nature of the book's composition, it originated as letters written by Burroughs to his former lover Ginsberg who then realised their literary merit and so, with writer Jack Kerouac, came to Burroughs to help him compile and edit the mass of content)…it certainly is not the ideal book for those looking for an easy, casual read.... In Burroughs own words, ‘[the sections of the novel] atrophy and amputate spontaneous like the little two amputates in a West African disease confined to the Negro race’ and indeed it is true that the traditional idea of a fixed text is completely rebelled against in Naked Lunch and I did find there to be certain literary strengths through such an approach. The disconnected style added further to the confusion and dismay of the wasteland described and also mirrored the presumed sense of being under the influence of drugs (the world that surrounds the addict disappearing into a disordered void of intangible activity). There was also a sense, in many areas, of the form being reminiscent of note-taking along with the suggestion of a voyeuristic narrator, perhaps explaining the inconsistency. What interested me most about the writing style has to be however Burroughs’ insane obsession with using ellipses, to a level such that Dickinson’s addiction to the dash was almost superseded. Indeed, fellow writer and friend of Burroughs, Ginsberg once alluded to Burroughs in one of his poems as an individual ‘obsessed with a sudden flash of the alchemy of the use of the ellipsis’. In terms of what it added to the work, undoubtedly the frequent ellipses accentuated the atmosphere of confusion evoked by the fragmented style itself. They also had a mocking, dare I say humorous purpose, of ridiculing the boring ennui of the American lifestyle whilst also allowing the disjointed sections to somewhat sync together, acting as a welcome bridge. Thus, despite my personal objections as a reader, as a critic there is much to be said for Burroughs' style and imagery. 

Therefore to conclude, despite on a personal level finding Naked Lunch to be a nightmare read, on a critical level much has to be said about the effects of Burroughs’ unique approach to the text along with his success in portraying a sense of despair, horror and absorption that comes with addiction. This is however certainly not a read for the lighthearted or those with weak stomachs....