Reflection

I think that it is significant that all of the writers that we have read had either an extremely difficult life, were addicted to some type of drug, were promiscuous, or suffered from mental illness. This certainly leads me to hypothesize that one or some combination of all of these are instrumental to the creative process for what comes to be known as good literature. Of course, the other side to that equation is that the creative process is the cause rather than the manifestation. I would never suggest to know the answer....I just find it strange.

If you haven't already guessed, I tend to take a simplistic view of things...I believe that good literature is anything that causes....or allows the reader to think. For me, it doesn't require that the subject of the thought provoked be of any particularly philosophical or historical consequence...just that the reader expand their thinking to include just one, previous unacknowledged thought. I must say that most of the authors we have read provoked new thoughts for me.

Who's Afraid of Virgina Woolf?

Maybe I should have been....but I wasn't. After reading In The Lady in the Looking-Glass: A Reflection, I must admit that I was pretty much left with the same feeling I had after reading many of the poets. What is she trying to tell me?

"The house was empty, and one felt, since one was the only person in the drawing-room, like one of those naturalists, who, covered with grass and leaves, lie watching the shyest animals . . . " (p. 1225). Is there actually someone in the house? Or is the mirror merely describing what is seen in its reflection? My first instinct was that the mirror was the narrator, yet later one I realized that some things being described could not have been reflected in the mirror; therefore it could have no knowledge of them.

Regardless of who is telling the story, Isabella Tyson, the owner of the house is described as 55-60 years old, never married, rich, and well traveled. As the reader I see her as living a satisfied life. The narrator then elicits my sympathy for Isabella when Woolfe writes, " . . . and yet, judging from the mask-like indifference of her face, she had gone through twenty times more of passion and experience than those whose loves are trumpeted forth for all the world to hear" (p. 1226). So she has loved, but her love has not left her happy...rather it has left her afraid to show emotion, least she be hurt again.

Woolfe's description of Isabella's reflection as she returns to the house is incredibly exciting. I could almost see how other things in the landscape were blocked by her as she came closer and closer. Finally, as she enters the room, we are told that Isabella is not the creature previously described from a distance. " . . . there was nothing. Isabella was perfectly empty. She had no thoughts. She had no friends. She cared for nobody" (p. 1228). I see a connection between Woolfe's analysis of Isabella and what she referred to as "The Angel in the House" in the excerpt from Professions for Women. She seemed to feel that this type of woman is left empty inside from giving so much to others.

T.S. Eliot - American or Britian?

Ever the literary infant, I was surprised to learn that even though Elliot is included in our review of British Literature, he was born and raised in America. True to form for me, I am quiet unsure what to make of his "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock." The poem starts "Let us go then, you and I, / When the evening is spread out against the sky / Like a patient etherised upon a table;" (1-3). This implies to me that we are going to take some type of journey in somewhat of an anesthetized state. As we go along this journey we encounter the usual experiences of a trip such as the "cheap hotels" (6) and "sawdust restaurants" (7). I suppose I see this portion of the poem as the journey that we take through life, and how sometimes the insignificant moments can gain significance in our memories.

I am no prophet - - and here's no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.

Surely, Eliot refers here to having lived the better days of life. The snicker of the eternal foot man indicates how he thinks God views his accomplishments as worthy only of a snicker. This causes him to fear death....or maybe causes him to fear living out the remainder of life, having little left to contribute.

A direct statement of how he views growing old, he says "I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled" (121). I can envision both of my grandfathers in their later years sitting with their pant legs rolled up....I never really thought about why they did this...did they actually shrink in height in their old age that their pants were too long? I don't know, but it is interesting to see the use of the phrase.

This poem left me feeling sad, and caused me to remind myself yet again of the necessity of enjoying each day, to only do the things that add meaning to life, and to set aside the trivial.

Clay

In this short story about a woman named Maria, James Joyce gives us a character who is well loved and respected. He does this through the words of those with whom she lives and works as well as with the family she later visits. The matron said to her: " - - Maria, you are a veritable peace-maker!" (p. 1134). Living and working in the laundry shop, Maria is proud of her independence even though Joe "had wanted her to go and live with them . . . " (p. 1134).

Joyce's story is told from the position of a third person who is watching Maria as she moves through the evening and records her activities. The narrator seems to feel a benevolence toward Maria, as if to portray her as someone deserving of our sympathy...but who certainly doesn't desire it. We are shown Maria's emotions such as pride (in being well regarded) and confidence (in remaining independent), Maria is also portrayed as humble, somewhat shy and reluctant to speak up for herself. This is evidenced when she purchased the plumcake and the clerk became annoyed, yet Maria's reaction was to "blush and smile at the young lady . . . " (p. 1135). Again we see her reluctanct to firmly state her position when after expressing that she would rather not have a drink she tells us that " . . . but Joe insisted" (p. 1136).

The title of the story, Clay, is only explained in the footnote which explains the significance of choosing a plate with clay during a game played by the children. We are not told outright, but I inferred that Maria had indeed choosen the plate with the clay indicating that she would soon die. As we were told to expect, James simply stops the story; rather than giving us an ending. He leaves us to complete the story according to what we have learned of the characters, and it involves the reader in determining control of the story.

Blast,Curse, Damn & Bless

As I read through the excepts from Lewis' magazine Blast, I was reminded of the tone that I attribute to the beatnik/anti-war activists of the late 1960's and early 1970's. Certainly, my impression of that time was shaped more from what I have since seen on television and read in magazines or books, rather than any real first hand knowledge of that time. But I can almost hear these pieces being read in a small coffee shop to an audience who shakes their head in agreement and snaps their fingers as applause.

"Blast sets out to be an avenue for all those vivid and violent ideas that could reach the Public in no other way" (p. 1082). This statement clearly articulates the author's dedication to providing a voice for the radical who seeks drastic change from the current state. Their position strikes me as rather arrogant in that they seem to belief that it is they, rather than some other type of medium, who should give voice to 'The Individual.'

The authors generally take the position that what they hold in contempt is to be blasted, cursed, or damned....and you can feel the hatred and vitriol in the language. In 5 BLAST HUMOR they write, "Quack ENGLISH drug for stupidty and sleepiness. Arch enemy of REAL, conventionalizing like / gunshot, freezing supple /REAL in ferocious chemistry of laughter" (p. 1087). Yet in 3 BLESS ENGLISH HUMOUR they seem to be contradicting their earlier admonisment of humor as they write "It is the great barbarous weapon of / the genius among races" (p. 1091). British humor is certainly different from American humor so maybe the blast to humor is directed at humor from other countries or cultures.

Overall, the Blasts, Curses, Damns, and Blessings and especially the Manifesto seem to be a call for change...a change from emphasis on collective thought to emphasis on Individual thought...and beyond just thought, there is the expectation that the individual should take action on their thoughts.

William Butler Yeats

Yeats laments the passage of time in The Wild Swans at Coole. He sets the stage by saying "The tress are in their autumn beauty / The woodland paths are dry" (1-2). We expect from these opening lines that he is going to tell us of something that occurs outdoors...in nature. Explaining that he is witnessing a scene which is familiar to him he adds "The nineteenth autumn has come upon me / Since I first made my count" (7-8).

Yeats reveals the emotion he feels by saying "I have looked upon those brillant creatures, / And now my heart is sore. / all's changed since I, hearing at twilight, / The first time on this shore" (13-16). Yeats never tells us how old the narrator is, simply that he has witnessed the swans on the water for 19 years. Actually, I realize in re-reading that Yeats doesn't say that he sees them each year...I made that assumption. The speaker seems to take heart in the consistency of the swans and their appearance each autumn.

Describing the swans as "Unwearied still, lover by lover / They paddle in the cold" (18-19) Yeats may be envious of the swans as they pair up to mate. The background material provided on Yeats explains his unrequited love for Maud Gonne to whom Yeats repeatedly proposed, yet he was repeatedly refused.

In contrast to his earlier mentioned melancholy about the passage of time he says "Their hearts have not grown old" (22). He admires the beauty and the grace of the birds but feeling the heavyness in his heart once more, he wonders where the swans will go " . . . when I awake some day / To find they have flown away" (30).

The Wild Swans at Coole certainly took place in nature, but the emphasis is not placed on nature itself...rather the feelings that are invoked by observing nature. In particular, I think it speaks to the smallness that one can experience when surrounded by nature. As Yeats is reminded that 19 years have passed since he 1st counted the swans, much has changed....still much remains the same.

Thomas Hardy

Ever the one to approach things in a backward manner...or maybe needing the respite of prose, I read Hardy's "On the Western Circuit" before either the background material or his poetry. For me, the story started out rather slowly but Hardy paid great attention to developing each character and bringing them to life. I suppose that I must have grown up incredibly protected as I didn't realize that writers produced what must have been considered racey stories in the Victorian Age. But alas, the story is one of tragedy with both Raye and Mrs. Harnham ending up without the one they truly desired.

Similarly tragic is Hardy's The Convergence of the Twain (Lines on the loss of the "Titanic"). Here he writes "In a solitude of the sea / Deep from human vanity, / And the Pride of Life that planned her, stilly couches she" (I, 1-3). He infers that man's desire to build something so magnificant must have surely played a role in the tragedy which befell the ship. He wonders if the ship and the iceberg were on an unchangeable course toward one another from their earliest beginnings when he says "Alien they seemed to be: / No mortal eye could see / The intimate welding of their later history," (IX, 1-3). This reminded me of the tragedy of Raye & Mrs. Harnham and how they were set on their course toward one another as soon as Raye steps into the market and toward the merry-go-round where he first sees Anna.

Of course this brings me to my often stated belief that everyone we come in contact, no matter how great or small the contact...somehow becomes a part of who we are and our total life experience. Fortunantly, most of our contacts do not lead to tragic ends...but even those that do somehow leave us richer or better for them...

Okay, I'm getting off my pontificating box for awhile...'til next time of course.