The "hard-eyed" bull-fighters and bull-critics at the bar stared Jake as he left Brett alone with Romero. He says, "It was not pleasant." (pg. 191).
How much is it possible to imply in one short sentence? I think this is the epitome of the tip-of-the-iceberg idea that is used to describe Hemingway's method of portrayal of human life. Jake is referring to the unpleasantness of the entire situation. In terms of his own feelings, he just answered "Yes" to Brett's question, "Do you still love me, Jake?" (pg. 187), and is now leaving her alone with another man. Additionally, he knows that she really feels close to him. She tells him he is the "only person I've got" (pg. 185), even though her fiance is present in the town as well. Yet, we know that she would not want to technically stay with Jake for her life, because he is incapable of giving her sexual pleasure. Thus, she has also told him she feels like "such a bitch" (pg. 188), three times (probably meaning for having gone off with Cohn, for wanting to pursue Romero, and for being really attached to Jake, even though she is not physically attached to him, and for not really being too in love with Mike). Thus, Jake is also dealing with Brett's guilt while he leaves them, and the knowledge that he could be in Romero's place if it were not for his war wound.
The fact that he had to walk away to the disapproving stare of the bull-fighters and bull-critics did not make his situation any easier. He had had a conversation earlier that day with Montoya, and had recommended that Romero not go to the Grand Hotel, because such drinking and partying outings might destroy Romero's bull-fighting career. It probably occurred to Jake that alone-time between Romero and Brett could be just as bad for Romero as going to the Grand Hotel.
Jake was probably also looking toward the future, when not only Montoya, but also Mike and Cohn, would find out about Brett's escapade. If Mike's knowledge of Brett's affair with Cohn was not enough to put him over the edge, then his knowledge of her new affair while Mike was present, as an option, in town, would really make him mad. Similarly, since Cohn had apparently been staying around simply because he thought Brett liked him instead, Jake must have known that this new affair would make everyone mad.
Therefore, when Jake left Romero alone with Brett, he was probably doing it because he loved Brett. It was what she wanted, even though she knew it was not what she should do, would be expected to do in society, but it was what she wanted to do. And she knew that Jake would be the only one to understand, and that no one else could ever fully understand. Thus she left him the unpleasantness of leaving the two of them alone together.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Why "Book 1" and "Book 2"?
I have not yet finished reading "The Sun Also Rises." At this stage of reading, I have some guesses and possible suggestions as to why Hemmingway split the novel into two books. I don't guarantee that any of these may be correct, but I just wanted to write them down somewhere:
- He envisioned Book 1 as a sort of introduction to Book 2, in terms of solidifying character relationships in the reader's mind before moving on to the actual meat of the story. In Book 1, he shows all of the characters and gives some insight into Jake's thoughts about the characters' personalities and lifestyles.
- There may simply be a difference in setting: Book 1 largely takes place in France, whereas Book 2 largely takes place in Spain. (I don't know if this is correct or not because I have not finished the book yet.)
- In Book 2, he might try and make a broader point about society that covers more than just specific people and their relations (With a little commentary about society that can be garnered from what he says.) He sets up for all of the major characters to be grouped together in one place a the same time: a confrontation will occur.
- In Book 1, Hemmingway shows Jake's relationship with Brett, with their relationships to other characters thrown in on the side. In Book 2, Hemmingway might be planning to show how the relationship between Brett and Jake changes when Brett is with the person she will actually marry. This could partly explain why Hemmingway chose to split Books 1 and 2 between Chapters 7 and 8. Chapter 7 closes with Brett leaving the next day. Chapter 8 opens, "I did not see Brett again until..." Hemmingway gives more background, setting the stage for when Jake sees Brett in the taxi a few pages later, about to get ready for when Mike, her fiance, arrives in Paris at 9 pm that night.
I plan to come back to this idea, assuming I remember, once I have finished the book, and write a blog on my theory as to why there is Book 1 and Book 2, and why the split occurs between Chapters 7 and 8.
- He envisioned Book 1 as a sort of introduction to Book 2, in terms of solidifying character relationships in the reader's mind before moving on to the actual meat of the story. In Book 1, he shows all of the characters and gives some insight into Jake's thoughts about the characters' personalities and lifestyles.
- There may simply be a difference in setting: Book 1 largely takes place in France, whereas Book 2 largely takes place in Spain. (I don't know if this is correct or not because I have not finished the book yet.)
- In Book 2, he might try and make a broader point about society that covers more than just specific people and their relations (With a little commentary about society that can be garnered from what he says.) He sets up for all of the major characters to be grouped together in one place a the same time: a confrontation will occur.
- In Book 1, Hemmingway shows Jake's relationship with Brett, with their relationships to other characters thrown in on the side. In Book 2, Hemmingway might be planning to show how the relationship between Brett and Jake changes when Brett is with the person she will actually marry. This could partly explain why Hemmingway chose to split Books 1 and 2 between Chapters 7 and 8. Chapter 7 closes with Brett leaving the next day. Chapter 8 opens, "I did not see Brett again until..." Hemmingway gives more background, setting the stage for when Jake sees Brett in the taxi a few pages later, about to get ready for when Mike, her fiance, arrives in Paris at 9 pm that night.
I plan to come back to this idea, assuming I remember, once I have finished the book, and write a blog on my theory as to why there is Book 1 and Book 2, and why the split occurs between Chapters 7 and 8.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Musical Disorientation in The Hours
Mr. Mitchell inspired me to write an entry on the music in The Hours:
While watching The Hours, I was highly aware of an unnerving, seemingly unending, descending sequence of fourths. An interesting choice. In music theory, fourths are considered "dissonant" intervals, and as listeners, we expect them to resolve in the next beat or so.
The effect of the unending sequence is stressful and unnerving because the listener expects the music to resolve over and over and over, and it seemingly never does. Once the music has finally resolved, however, the listener is dissatisfied, because by this time they had practically given up hope.
In the process, the listener has quickly lost track of what the tonic, the central pitch, should be. In fact, it's almost impossible to know what the tonic should be (most can typically sense it, or can agree that a certain note is the tonic if it's played), because there is NO structure to the music at this point besides the sequence. Does this have significance? Does it imply that the characters have somehow lost track of their respective "tonics" in life? Or does it imply that life has no tonic, no central pitch?
One reason the tonic may be difficult to identify is that the listener does not notice the pattern starting necessarily, but realizes the music about halfway through as the tension and stress build. Does this imply that these downward spirals in life, or for the characters, cannot be prevented from being set into motion?
While watching The Hours, I was highly aware of an unnerving, seemingly unending, descending sequence of fourths. An interesting choice. In music theory, fourths are considered "dissonant" intervals, and as listeners, we expect them to resolve in the next beat or so.
The effect of the unending sequence is stressful and unnerving because the listener expects the music to resolve over and over and over, and it seemingly never does. Once the music has finally resolved, however, the listener is dissatisfied, because by this time they had practically given up hope.
In the process, the listener has quickly lost track of what the tonic, the central pitch, should be. In fact, it's almost impossible to know what the tonic should be (most can typically sense it, or can agree that a certain note is the tonic if it's played), because there is NO structure to the music at this point besides the sequence. Does this have significance? Does it imply that the characters have somehow lost track of their respective "tonics" in life? Or does it imply that life has no tonic, no central pitch?
One reason the tonic may be difficult to identify is that the listener does not notice the pattern starting necessarily, but realizes the music about halfway through as the tension and stress build. Does this imply that these downward spirals in life, or for the characters, cannot be prevented from being set into motion?
Friday, September 16, 2011
Richard--Connection to both Septimus and Virginia in The Hours
The Hours is an emotionally intense movie based off of Virginia Woolf's Mrs. Dalloway. One of the more moving stories is that of Richie, a young boy whose mother almost commits suicide on her husband's birthday. We make the connection that the young boy, traumatized by this event as a young child even though he does not actually see her attempt at suicide, is the same as the man who later commits suicide himself in a story that apparently centers around a different group of people.
Interestingly, we note this connection as watchers when a siren in the street below Richard's current appartment seemingly spurs his memory of a flashback to the scene in which he sees his mother again, after having guessed that she will commit suicide. My theory is that the sirens connect The Hours back to Septimus, the PTSD ("shell-shock" is a more name accurate when taking into account the time period in which the book was written) character in Mrs. Dalloway. The siren in the street below that brought back memories for Richard could be connected to the effects of the shell-shock condition that Septimus had. Sirens could have brought back memories of World War I for Septimus, from air raids or attacks on the front lines, for example, just like sirens brought back memories of being a little child afraid of his mother's likely suicide for Richard.
Richard's connection to the character of Septimus in Mrs. Dalloway is also notable for another reason. Virginia Woolf is said to have written about Septimus's condition because she herself had experience with this condition. Similarly, in the movie, Richard, who commits suicide in front of Mrs. Dalloway, is indirectly related to Virginia Woolf, whose story we are also following. Both older Richard and Virginia suffer from mental problems and feel imprisoned in the places they are living. Both consider suicide. Finally, Richard also commits suicide because in part Virginia Woolf has seemingly decided that this will be part of his story. She seems to be writing the other two plot lines that we are following. Virginia has almost caused Richie's mother to commit suicide when he was a child, but says she cannot die, that someone else must die in her place. Later, she remarks that this death must be the death of the poet, the "visionary," which infer later to be Richard.
Yet whereas the suicide in the book seems to have been caused by the approach of "humanity" towards Septimus in the form of the doctor, there is no real explanation for Richard's suicide in the movie. We are left to wonder if his mother's almost-suicide has marred him for life like Septimus was scarred by the War. Or is Richard's death simply because of Virginia's portrayed whim? Then how would she explain the death if she were physically writing a novel about the instance? Is it because she sees herself as an exact parallel to Richard, because her mother died when she was young and she wants to commit suicide? Is Virginia writing her own story into the character of Richard in this movie?
So many questions are left unanswered, I am not sure where to begin, or where to end. I was able to draw several inferences from this movie; the problem with movies is a lack of nonverbal communication. Watchers are left to narrate the movie for themselves, based on their interpretations. This can be effective sometimes, but for a story based on Mrs. Dalloway, which is centered around perceptions, it is difficult to understand the meaning without complete 3rd person narration to tell us the author's intentions.
Interestingly, we note this connection as watchers when a siren in the street below Richard's current appartment seemingly spurs his memory of a flashback to the scene in which he sees his mother again, after having guessed that she will commit suicide. My theory is that the sirens connect The Hours back to Septimus, the PTSD ("shell-shock" is a more name accurate when taking into account the time period in which the book was written) character in Mrs. Dalloway. The siren in the street below that brought back memories for Richard could be connected to the effects of the shell-shock condition that Septimus had. Sirens could have brought back memories of World War I for Septimus, from air raids or attacks on the front lines, for example, just like sirens brought back memories of being a little child afraid of his mother's likely suicide for Richard.
Richard's connection to the character of Septimus in Mrs. Dalloway is also notable for another reason. Virginia Woolf is said to have written about Septimus's condition because she herself had experience with this condition. Similarly, in the movie, Richard, who commits suicide in front of Mrs. Dalloway, is indirectly related to Virginia Woolf, whose story we are also following. Both older Richard and Virginia suffer from mental problems and feel imprisoned in the places they are living. Both consider suicide. Finally, Richard also commits suicide because in part Virginia Woolf has seemingly decided that this will be part of his story. She seems to be writing the other two plot lines that we are following. Virginia has almost caused Richie's mother to commit suicide when he was a child, but says she cannot die, that someone else must die in her place. Later, she remarks that this death must be the death of the poet, the "visionary," which infer later to be Richard.
Yet whereas the suicide in the book seems to have been caused by the approach of "humanity" towards Septimus in the form of the doctor, there is no real explanation for Richard's suicide in the movie. We are left to wonder if his mother's almost-suicide has marred him for life like Septimus was scarred by the War. Or is Richard's death simply because of Virginia's portrayed whim? Then how would she explain the death if she were physically writing a novel about the instance? Is it because she sees herself as an exact parallel to Richard, because her mother died when she was young and she wants to commit suicide? Is Virginia writing her own story into the character of Richard in this movie?
So many questions are left unanswered, I am not sure where to begin, or where to end. I was able to draw several inferences from this movie; the problem with movies is a lack of nonverbal communication. Watchers are left to narrate the movie for themselves, based on their interpretations. This can be effective sometimes, but for a story based on Mrs. Dalloway, which is centered around perceptions, it is difficult to understand the meaning without complete 3rd person narration to tell us the author's intentions.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Weaknesses and Strenghts in "The Hours" Woolf Pastiche
As I was reading the Cunninghan pastiche of Woolf, I noted several aspects that I considered consistent with Woolf, as well as a few inconsistencies.
Cunningham presents much of the mechanical aspects of Woolf's writing, some of which are more effective than others. He has sidenotes in parentheses and the repitition of some ideas (e.g. Richard disagrees with the main character, saying "Beauty is a whore, I like money better." (pg. 11). Later, the narration says: "Beauty is a whore, she sometimes says. I like money better." (pg. 13)). Cunningham also has lists with commas and semi-colons, though somehow is not as effective with these as Woolf is.
Cunningham's inclusions of subjectivity and impressions are not quite as pervasive as Woolf's. Though generally he has achieved the untethered free indirect discourse of the 3rd person narration, Clarissa's conversation with Walter is not nearly as thought-filled as Woolf would have made it. On pages 16-17, Walter and Clarissa exchange twelve lines of verbal discourse with no subjective. An additional observation about this scene is that Walter and Clarissa's conversations seem planned: they always answer one another's questions clearly and seemingly understand one another quite well. This contrasts with Clarissa's conversations in Mrs. Dalloway. Based on the dialogue alone in Mrs. Dalloway, even without the subjective annotations, it is often unclear whether or not the characters truly understand one another. The lack of annotation on pages 16-17 is similar to the lack of annotation in the Prologue when Leonard is reading V.'s suicide note. It is completely out of Woolf's style to have none of Leonard's thoughts portrayed as he is reading this note.
In the Mrs. Dalloway chapter, Cunningham does not try to give the impressions of intersubjectivity or simultaneity, since he stays with Clarissa almost the entire time. He does, however, follow both V. and Leonard in the Prologue.
Cunningham, in following with Woolf's style, does anchor the prologue with fisherman in a red jacket. Vanessa sees him as part of her "last moment of true perception" (pg. 5). The man is later the only thing that Leonard finds at the riverbank when he goes to find V. For the prologue, multiple people's perceptions of the fisherman in the red jacket mirrors multiple character's perceptions of the chiming of big ben in Mrs. Dalloway.
A final observation is that Cunningham uses a slightly different vocabulary than Woolf. The most blatant difference is on page 15 where Clarissa is having deep philosophical thoughts about why people want to go on living, "even if we're...shitting in the sheets." Woolf would probably choose "defecating." One possibility for Cunningham's word choice is that he is a man writing in the Post-Modern Age, not a woman writing in the Modern Age. Another possibility is that Cunningham is depicting a woman who is not upper-class, whereas Woolf was depicting someone who makes up part of the highest classes of English society at that time. We see evidence of the fact that Cunningham's Clarissa may not be upper-class later on page 15 when she first encounters Walter, and he greets her quite informally, with a nickname: "Hey, Clare."
Cunningham presents much of the mechanical aspects of Woolf's writing, some of which are more effective than others. He has sidenotes in parentheses and the repitition of some ideas (e.g. Richard disagrees with the main character, saying "Beauty is a whore, I like money better." (pg. 11). Later, the narration says: "Beauty is a whore, she sometimes says. I like money better." (pg. 13)). Cunningham also has lists with commas and semi-colons, though somehow is not as effective with these as Woolf is.
Cunningham's inclusions of subjectivity and impressions are not quite as pervasive as Woolf's. Though generally he has achieved the untethered free indirect discourse of the 3rd person narration, Clarissa's conversation with Walter is not nearly as thought-filled as Woolf would have made it. On pages 16-17, Walter and Clarissa exchange twelve lines of verbal discourse with no subjective. An additional observation about this scene is that Walter and Clarissa's conversations seem planned: they always answer one another's questions clearly and seemingly understand one another quite well. This contrasts with Clarissa's conversations in Mrs. Dalloway. Based on the dialogue alone in Mrs. Dalloway, even without the subjective annotations, it is often unclear whether or not the characters truly understand one another. The lack of annotation on pages 16-17 is similar to the lack of annotation in the Prologue when Leonard is reading V.'s suicide note. It is completely out of Woolf's style to have none of Leonard's thoughts portrayed as he is reading this note.
In the Mrs. Dalloway chapter, Cunningham does not try to give the impressions of intersubjectivity or simultaneity, since he stays with Clarissa almost the entire time. He does, however, follow both V. and Leonard in the Prologue.
Cunningham, in following with Woolf's style, does anchor the prologue with fisherman in a red jacket. Vanessa sees him as part of her "last moment of true perception" (pg. 5). The man is later the only thing that Leonard finds at the riverbank when he goes to find V. For the prologue, multiple people's perceptions of the fisherman in the red jacket mirrors multiple character's perceptions of the chiming of big ben in Mrs. Dalloway.
A final observation is that Cunningham uses a slightly different vocabulary than Woolf. The most blatant difference is on page 15 where Clarissa is having deep philosophical thoughts about why people want to go on living, "even if we're...shitting in the sheets." Woolf would probably choose "defecating." One possibility for Cunningham's word choice is that he is a man writing in the Post-Modern Age, not a woman writing in the Modern Age. Another possibility is that Cunningham is depicting a woman who is not upper-class, whereas Woolf was depicting someone who makes up part of the highest classes of English society at that time. We see evidence of the fact that Cunningham's Clarissa may not be upper-class later on page 15 when she first encounters Walter, and he greets her quite informally, with a nickname: "Hey, Clare."
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Woolf - Syntax Errors? or Purposeful Sentence Shapes?
As I was reading the Mrs. Dalloway reading for today, I specifically made a mental note to myself to discuss two sentences towards the end of the section.
The first, at the bottom of pg. 139, reads: "How it rejoiced her that!" The sentence shows what Rezia was thinking when Septimus described the hat jokingly as "an organ grinder's monkey's hat." The description presumably made her happy because Septimus was acting normally.
Talk about an awkward sentence! There seems to be almost no point to Woolf's placement of "that" at the end of the sentence. Why isn't the less awkward phrasing, "How that rejoiced her!" suitable? After today's class discussion, I decided that the intentional awkwardness was included because Woolf was trying to exactly show how Rezia was thinking through her grammar and punctuation. One possibility is that she is still uncomfortable with English, even in her thoughts, because she is a nonnative English speaker. A second possibility is that the less awkward version of the sentence somehow gives a sense of detachedness between Rezia and Septimus, and does not capture the immediacy of her thoughts. A third possibility is that the possible addition of a comma before the "that" was not included because a comma would give a sense of slowness to this thought.
The second sentence, at the bottom of pg. 141, reads: "But directly he saw nothing the sounds of the game became fainter and stranger ansd sounded like the cries of people seeking and not finding, and passing further and further away." Septimus has just had a happy relapse into normality with Rezia, and is now transitioning into sleep.
This is the epitome of the run-on sentence. I can think of two reasons for the intentional placement of this run-on sentence. The first is that, since Septimus is always slightly preoccupied with the fact that his senses are constantly over-stimulated and analyzed, and thus is predisposed to thinking in a less orderly fashion. The other possibility is that Woolf is using the run-on to imitate the way our thoughts string together in an increasingly random, senseless, uncontrollable way as we fall asleep.
In general, I find Woolf's phrasing to be interesting, almost inspiring. She is so deliberate in her breaches of proper grammar that she is able to emulate patterns of human thought with a surprising accuracy.
The first, at the bottom of pg. 139, reads: "How it rejoiced her that!" The sentence shows what Rezia was thinking when Septimus described the hat jokingly as "an organ grinder's monkey's hat." The description presumably made her happy because Septimus was acting normally.
Talk about an awkward sentence! There seems to be almost no point to Woolf's placement of "that" at the end of the sentence. Why isn't the less awkward phrasing, "How that rejoiced her!" suitable? After today's class discussion, I decided that the intentional awkwardness was included because Woolf was trying to exactly show how Rezia was thinking through her grammar and punctuation. One possibility is that she is still uncomfortable with English, even in her thoughts, because she is a nonnative English speaker. A second possibility is that the less awkward version of the sentence somehow gives a sense of detachedness between Rezia and Septimus, and does not capture the immediacy of her thoughts. A third possibility is that the possible addition of a comma before the "that" was not included because a comma would give a sense of slowness to this thought.
The second sentence, at the bottom of pg. 141, reads: "But directly he saw nothing the sounds of the game became fainter and stranger ansd sounded like the cries of people seeking and not finding, and passing further and further away." Septimus has just had a happy relapse into normality with Rezia, and is now transitioning into sleep.
This is the epitome of the run-on sentence. I can think of two reasons for the intentional placement of this run-on sentence. The first is that, since Septimus is always slightly preoccupied with the fact that his senses are constantly over-stimulated and analyzed, and thus is predisposed to thinking in a less orderly fashion. The other possibility is that Woolf is using the run-on to imitate the way our thoughts string together in an increasingly random, senseless, uncontrollable way as we fall asleep.
In general, I find Woolf's phrasing to be interesting, almost inspiring. She is so deliberate in her breaches of proper grammar that she is able to emulate patterns of human thought with a surprising accuracy.
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