Wednesday, September 27, 2017

Labelless Love

Our class had an interesting discussion today comparing one of the first scenes in The Sun Also Rises to its final couple paragraphs. The story seems to come full circle, Brett and Jake again experiencing their tragic love for each other in a taxi cab, but in truth, there are some key differences between the two scenes that demonstrate the growth and change between these characters and their relationship.

In the first taxi scene, the reader gets a first glimpse at Jake and Brett alone together. There is something electric about the pair, and we quickly learn from their behavior that they share a passionate intimacy. We see them kissing, and Brett tells Jake not to touch her because she "can't stand it." Jake pleads with Brett, saying, "I have to see you." In this encounter, Jake appears almost pathetic in his desperation for Brett. Jake wants Brett badly, and he is holding out hope for her, despite her saying "I don't want to go through that hell again."

In contrast, in the final taxi scene, Brett and Jake do not kiss. They sit "close against each other...comfortably." "Comfortably" implies a relaxed ease, nothing like the passionate tension of the first taxi scene. Brett and Jake's positioning in the taxi is more supportive than intimate, and there is no desperation in their conversation. One could argue that their roles have been reversed, as seen in the last two lines of dialogue. When Brett tries to bring up what could've been between them, Jake responds with, "Isn't it pretty to think so?" Although his last line could be interpreted in varying ways, I think it is clear that Jake has accepted his relationship with Brett for what it is, and no longer longs for more than what they have. His use of the word "pretty" is especially intriguing. As usual, the adjectives he uses severely undermine the intensity of the situation he has been through (think: "I felt bad" after his depressing episode). Jake uses the word "pretty" to describe the fantasy of a proper relationship with Brett that has played through his head since he met her. This fantasy has caused Jake to "lay awake thinking" and cry. It's as if what could've been was already far away in Jake's mind, and the best he could come up with to describe what was once his fantasy was "pretty."

And then the book ends.

Although the reader never sees Jake and Brett have a proper relationship (although Brett references that they've tried), I felt as if I had. As we mentioned in class, Brett's ever-changing suitors almost acted as "avatars" for Jake. This would explain his discomfort with her relationships with people who Jake deemed beneath him. But look at how the relationships Brett consummated (in contrast to her relationship with Jake) ended. Romero, for example, tries to change Brett to fit more "womanly" standards, which she despises and runs away from. Cohn becomes whiney and desperate on a severely pathetic level. But even Jake admits that he would be just as bad as Cohn if he were "in the game," as Mr. Mitchell says. It's as if the reader has journeyed through Jake's fantasies, playing out every scenario regarding his relationship with Brett, and all the ways it could go wrong. From seeing Brett's failed relationships with Cohn, Romero, Ashley, Mike (and more), I was satisfied with the implication from the final taxi scene that they would not try to live out Jake's fantasies. It gave me the feeling that Brett and Jake work because they don't. That is, they don't conform to a normal heterosexual monogamous relationship.

I don't know how I would label what Brett and Jake have. But Hemingway does an excellent job illustrating the reality of relationships and love, which is that they are complicated and imperfect.

Thursday, September 14, 2017

Clarissa's Multifaceted Identity

On Monday, we had a panel presentation that discussed the fluidity of identity in Virginia Woolf's "Mrs. Dalloway" characters. The idea of polygamy was brought up, regarding Clarissa and her three major relationships (Peter, Richard, Sally). Instead of focusing on literal polygamy and fluidity of Clarissa's sexuality, I would like to delve into the "polygamy" of Clarissa's identity in terms of these three relationships.

First, Sally Seton. Clarissa met her when she was eighteen, a coming of age time period when Clarissa was "discovering" herself. Clarissa's exploration of her identity was embodied by the relationship she had with Sally. For example, Sally's acts of defiance against 20th century British societal standards inspired Clarissa to develop a proto-feminist side. She became eager to educate herself by reading Plato, Shelley, and Morris. She developed a revolutionary streak, and wanted to "reform the world" by establishing a "society to abolish private property." Let's ignore the fact that she and Sally were subtle communists, and instead recognize that Sally Seton inspired a rebellious, adventurous side in Clarissa. 

Next, Richard Dalloway, Clarissa's husband. Richard is a traditional British 20th century male. He works in Parliament, has trouble expressing his feelings ("he could not bring himself to say he loved her"), and is ignorantly blissful in his marriage ("he held her hand. Happiness is this"). He gives Clarissa freedom to pursue her interests, although his conformity to British society pressures her to behave in a similar fashion. To use Peter's description of Clarissa when she was around Richard, "There was...a sort of ease in her manner to him something maternal; something gentle." These traits Peter described are often associated with passivity that "proper ladies" who conform to their gender roles should possess. Additionally, Clarissa throws parties, not for her own enjoyment, but as an "offering," in order to maintain her status as a well-respected British woman. She sews, goes to the store, and gets "an hour's complete rest after luncheon," as reminded by Richard. Richard's presence in Clarissa's life represents her attempt to uphold her femininity, as dictated by British society.

Finally, Peter Walsh, with whom Clarissa has always shared "exquisite intimacy." He is a man of many lives, "always in love the wrong woman," a world traveler, who never quite let go of his youth in Bourton. He inspires impulsivity in Clarissa ("Take me with you, Clarissa thought impulsively, as if he were starting directly upon some great voyage"), as well as doubt and uncertainty about whether she is satisfied with her life. With Peter, Clarissa questions her choice in partner, often asking herself "why did I make up  my mind - not to marry him?". They judge each other incessantly, criticizing each other's habits and guessing the other is doing so. This habit they have reflects how Clarissa often judges her own physical appearance and the decisions she has made to bring her to present day. Furthermore, the way Peter "barges" into Clarissa's life every once in a while embodies the tendency of Clarissa's musings over how her life could've been different after growing up in Bourton to flit in and out of her daily inner monologue. 

The Only Sane One

The other day in class, someone brought up the fact that Milkman believes everyone around him is crazy. I didn't really make that observ...