Win Everett devises his plot to start a conflict between Cuba and the US by staging a fake assassination attempt on Kennedy, which he will blame on Castro. One thing to note about Win's plan is that it is rather extreme. While an attempted assassination on the president is more certain to provoke anti-Cuban anger than less extreme plots, it is also much more dangerous: if there is any slip-up, it is bound to be noticed by one of the hundreds of investigators who would be working on discovering the culprit. Why would he want to take such a risk? Another point is that, from the very beginning, he planned to cause casualties. Though there was supposed to be no risk to the Kennedy, someone had to be blamed for what investigators would see as a true attempt on his life, and that someone would undoubtedly face severe consequences. That man, in Win's plot, is just some guy who would believably have tried to kill Kennedy and who could be framed cleanly. In other words, Win plans to cause casualties of innocent people (or at least one innocent person) in order to start a war in which there would undoubtedly be deaths of innocent people.
What all this looks like is a war. Not a war against Cuba and America, no, that's just a part of it. Instead it's what Win, Parmenter, and Mackey see as a war between pro-Castro and anti-Castro forces. This is a war which has already started, which resulted in the Bay of Pigs when the anti-Castros were winning, and which made the Bay of Pigs fail to put the pro-Castros ahead. Both of these events caused real fighting and real deaths: the consequences of war. Now that the anti-Castros are trailing, Win devises a plot causing someone to take the blame for an attempted assassination. This sounds an awful lot like an officer ordering suicide mission. Just like the officer would see the casualties as unfortunate but necessary, because they died in the name of something greater [cringe], Win sees the Bay of Pigs, his shooter's arrest, and the fighting that will result as unfortunate casualties of war which are necessary to out Castro, which is somehow more important.
Friday, 20 April 2018
Friday, 6 April 2018
Returning Home
The section of Kindred, "The Storm" begins with Kevin and Dana returning home together after Kevin had been trapped in the early 19th century for five years. Naturally, after five years, Kevin wasn't quite used to what he knew should have been "home". Even Dana, who had only been away for a few months, remarked to herself that the Weylin house seemed more like home than her real home. The only thing she feels is more "homey" about her house is that it is in her own time period. What this shows is that both Dana and Kevin have become so used to the Weylins' house, that they are beginning to recognize the location as home, but, more importantly, they have also been able to transplant the norms of 1976 in to the time period to a great enough degree to make it feel less alien.
We have talked in class about how the 19th century society has had unwanted effects on Dana and Kevin, and these are obviously present in the scene described above. However, it is also clear that there are aspects of the 1970's that they have brought and maintained in the 1810's, which have allowed them to feel more at home there. This becomes especially clear in Kevin when he mentions that he was helping southern slaves escape to the north. He becomes agitated as he says this, and remarks that he isn't used to having people understand why he would do it. What this shows is that, although Kevin has adapted to living in a new society, he has only changed to a limited degree.
This is how Kevin was able to feel at home at the Weylin house. Although he wasn't living there when he was doing it, he must have associated it with his helping slaves to escape, because, as he was talking about the Weylin house to Dana, it led directly to him talking about helping runaways. He could only feel at home where he had spent considerable time and had demonstrated his 1976 morality most clearly.
This idea also applies to Dana. She felt at home at the Weylin house, where she had tried her best to apply her morality to other slaves, helping them where she could. This appears to be how Butler defines where her characters feel at home, and it shows that as much as Dana and Kevin change as they are in the 19th century, they still remain a product of their own time.
We have talked in class about how the 19th century society has had unwanted effects on Dana and Kevin, and these are obviously present in the scene described above. However, it is also clear that there are aspects of the 1970's that they have brought and maintained in the 1810's, which have allowed them to feel more at home there. This becomes especially clear in Kevin when he mentions that he was helping southern slaves escape to the north. He becomes agitated as he says this, and remarks that he isn't used to having people understand why he would do it. What this shows is that, although Kevin has adapted to living in a new society, he has only changed to a limited degree.
This is how Kevin was able to feel at home at the Weylin house. Although he wasn't living there when he was doing it, he must have associated it with his helping slaves to escape, because, as he was talking about the Weylin house to Dana, it led directly to him talking about helping runaways. He could only feel at home where he had spent considerable time and had demonstrated his 1976 morality most clearly.
This idea also applies to Dana. She felt at home at the Weylin house, where she had tried her best to apply her morality to other slaves, helping them where she could. This appears to be how Butler defines where her characters feel at home, and it shows that as much as Dana and Kevin change as they are in the 19th century, they still remain a product of their own time.
Friday, 16 March 2018
The Portrayal of Death
Step one in writing an anti-war novel is to remove any aspect of glory that one can associate with war. One of the most glorious things a soldier can do is die for the cause, so naturally, Kurt Vonnegut had to write Slaughterhouse-Five without any inkling that death was for a cause.
He does this in several ways, the first of which is by removing all cause from the war. There are only three characters in the whole book who appear to have any sense of what the war is about, and only two of them were shown in the war. Campbell, who is the least objectionable Nazi I've ever imagined could be in a book, and poor old Edgar Derby are the two men fighting for a cause. Both of them, however, are overshadowed completely by the senseless bombing that came right after their speeches, leaving the reader with the feeling of, "[So it goes, but] What was all that about?". Vonnegut further makes Derby's patriotism seem pointless by emphasizing at every possible opportunity that he will be shot for stealing a teapot in the ruins of Dresden [so it goes].
The second way Vonnegut removes the glory of death is in the line, "So it goes". This, of course, relates to the Tralfamadorian view of time that nothing can be changed; things that happen have happened and will always happen. This idea takes the glory not only out of death, but out of just about everything. There are no causes one can work towards, as the future is just as unchangeable as the past, and there is no death, because there are still plenty of moments the dead were alive. However, this is not the only way the repeated line removes glory from death. Vonnegut repeats it endlessly, throws it at everything regardless of the tragedy involved, even applying it to the death of bubbles in water [so it goes]. What this does is immunizes the reader to death, making sure we know every time there is one, and ensuring that we get not only used to it, but irritated with it, jovially thinking when we read about something that relates slightly to death, "oh boy, here it comes", and sure enough, there is meat hanging in a slaughterhouse. So it goes. The result is that we realize how common death really is and how little we are affected by it, just as Vonnegut appears to be under-sensitized to the deaths of over 100,000 people in Dresden. So it goes. In the light of this, one soldier laying down his life for his country seems rather insignificant. So it goes, and goes, and goes...
Finally, death is just violet light and humming, according to Billy Pilgrim. Sounds peaceful, and rather inglorious, doesn't it? So that goes too. If this idea were widely accepted, I'm sure tissue companies would go bankrupt and expire, as crying at funerals would be greatly reduced. So it goes. They might also cut down on the whole 21 gun salute thing for dead soldiers; it might disturb the humming, or even turn the light green or some other ghastly shade.
He does this in several ways, the first of which is by removing all cause from the war. There are only three characters in the whole book who appear to have any sense of what the war is about, and only two of them were shown in the war. Campbell, who is the least objectionable Nazi I've ever imagined could be in a book, and poor old Edgar Derby are the two men fighting for a cause. Both of them, however, are overshadowed completely by the senseless bombing that came right after their speeches, leaving the reader with the feeling of, "[So it goes, but] What was all that about?". Vonnegut further makes Derby's patriotism seem pointless by emphasizing at every possible opportunity that he will be shot for stealing a teapot in the ruins of Dresden [so it goes].
The second way Vonnegut removes the glory of death is in the line, "So it goes". This, of course, relates to the Tralfamadorian view of time that nothing can be changed; things that happen have happened and will always happen. This idea takes the glory not only out of death, but out of just about everything. There are no causes one can work towards, as the future is just as unchangeable as the past, and there is no death, because there are still plenty of moments the dead were alive. However, this is not the only way the repeated line removes glory from death. Vonnegut repeats it endlessly, throws it at everything regardless of the tragedy involved, even applying it to the death of bubbles in water [so it goes]. What this does is immunizes the reader to death, making sure we know every time there is one, and ensuring that we get not only used to it, but irritated with it, jovially thinking when we read about something that relates slightly to death, "oh boy, here it comes", and sure enough, there is meat hanging in a slaughterhouse. So it goes. The result is that we realize how common death really is and how little we are affected by it, just as Vonnegut appears to be under-sensitized to the deaths of over 100,000 people in Dresden. So it goes. In the light of this, one soldier laying down his life for his country seems rather insignificant. So it goes, and goes, and goes...
Finally, death is just violet light and humming, according to Billy Pilgrim. Sounds peaceful, and rather inglorious, doesn't it? So that goes too. If this idea were widely accepted, I'm sure tissue companies would go bankrupt and expire, as crying at funerals would be greatly reduced. So it goes. They might also cut down on the whole 21 gun salute thing for dead soldiers; it might disturb the humming, or even turn the light green or some other ghastly shade.
Friday, 2 March 2018
Abdul's Murder
Less than half-way through Mumbo Jumbo, Hinckle Von Vampton and Hubert "Safecracker" Gould kill Abdul in order to take the anthology of the Book of Thoth he had assembled, so they could burn it, but they find that the safe where he had kept it was empty. At the very end of the novel, we find out in a letter Abdul sent to PaPa LaBas that he had already burned it, making his murder essentially pointless. Just as everything else in Mumbo Jumbo, this murder pokes fun at just about everyone involved in it.
Abdul, of course, is most heavily satirized here, most of it originating in the letter he sends to LaBas. While for most of the novel, Abdul is depicted somewhat favourably, because he is the one taking the initiative to collect the pieces of the Text, therefore seeming to support Jes Grew, well after he is killed, the depiction of his character swings from a positive one to that of the unwitting villain. As and academic, Abdul would be considered successful if his work outlasted him, and, as we can see in his letter, it does. However, his work temporarily stifled Jes Grew, which LaBas explains never actually dies out and will be back, making Abdul's contribution to the world short-lived and decidedly negative. Yet, he has nobly laid down his life for the burning of the Text, despite having already burned it. This is clear satire of academics.
Next are Hinckle and "Safecracker". The description of them getting to Abdul's office and killing him is that of a failed pair of super-villains. They climb up to the office on "an invisible chord", seemingly a science-fiction burglary trick, but them this is undermined by the fact that they are climbing up the stairs, and don't need an invisible chord. Then, Hinckle tries to convince Abdul to give him the no-longer-existent anthology by being complimentary and sly, which requires complete intellectual control of the situation, which he plainly doesn't have, as he won't believe Abdul when he says he doesn't have the anthology. Then, "Safecracker" undermines his efforts by insisting upon taking the Text by force and pulling out a gun, which leads to Abdul's murder, and points out how uncoordinated their efforts are. When all this is viewed in the context of a thousand-year-old order trying to reclaim its dignity in the eyes of the Wallflower Order, it all looks rather pathetic, especially because the person they killed was apparently aligned with them; Abdul found the Text to be "lewd, nasty", and had done with it what Hinckle was planning to do.
Finally, PaPa LaBas's reaction to Abdul's letter is a clear satirization of LaBas. After having explained all of history since Ancient Egypt to convince people to let him take Hinckle and "Safecracker" to the Haitian authorities for the sake of Jes Grew, he finds out that its Text is in ashes, and he suddenly becomes passive, with the statement, "Better luck next time". This makes all of his work seem as pointless as Hinckle's, compounded by his subsequent revealing that Jes Grew was never in danger of dying out anyway.
This is just one example of a part of Mumbo Jumbo where Reed pokes fun not only at the villains and side-characters, but also the protagonist, showing that Jes Grew, not any character, is the real protagonist in Mumbo Jumbo, as it is the only entity that totally escapes satirization and an apparent pointlessness.
Abdul, of course, is most heavily satirized here, most of it originating in the letter he sends to LaBas. While for most of the novel, Abdul is depicted somewhat favourably, because he is the one taking the initiative to collect the pieces of the Text, therefore seeming to support Jes Grew, well after he is killed, the depiction of his character swings from a positive one to that of the unwitting villain. As and academic, Abdul would be considered successful if his work outlasted him, and, as we can see in his letter, it does. However, his work temporarily stifled Jes Grew, which LaBas explains never actually dies out and will be back, making Abdul's contribution to the world short-lived and decidedly negative. Yet, he has nobly laid down his life for the burning of the Text, despite having already burned it. This is clear satire of academics.
Next are Hinckle and "Safecracker". The description of them getting to Abdul's office and killing him is that of a failed pair of super-villains. They climb up to the office on "an invisible chord", seemingly a science-fiction burglary trick, but them this is undermined by the fact that they are climbing up the stairs, and don't need an invisible chord. Then, Hinckle tries to convince Abdul to give him the no-longer-existent anthology by being complimentary and sly, which requires complete intellectual control of the situation, which he plainly doesn't have, as he won't believe Abdul when he says he doesn't have the anthology. Then, "Safecracker" undermines his efforts by insisting upon taking the Text by force and pulling out a gun, which leads to Abdul's murder, and points out how uncoordinated their efforts are. When all this is viewed in the context of a thousand-year-old order trying to reclaim its dignity in the eyes of the Wallflower Order, it all looks rather pathetic, especially because the person they killed was apparently aligned with them; Abdul found the Text to be "lewd, nasty", and had done with it what Hinckle was planning to do.
Finally, PaPa LaBas's reaction to Abdul's letter is a clear satirization of LaBas. After having explained all of history since Ancient Egypt to convince people to let him take Hinckle and "Safecracker" to the Haitian authorities for the sake of Jes Grew, he finds out that its Text is in ashes, and he suddenly becomes passive, with the statement, "Better luck next time". This makes all of his work seem as pointless as Hinckle's, compounded by his subsequent revealing that Jes Grew was never in danger of dying out anyway.
This is just one example of a part of Mumbo Jumbo where Reed pokes fun not only at the villains and side-characters, but also the protagonist, showing that Jes Grew, not any character, is the real protagonist in Mumbo Jumbo, as it is the only entity that totally escapes satirization and an apparent pointlessness.
Friday, 9 February 2018
Doctorow Pointing Out the Discrepancies of History.
E.L. Doctorow represents historical figures more thoroughly than he does fictional characters, often leaving his fictional characters without much detail, while making up extremely specific details about real historical characters. Perhaps turning fiction on its head like this is to demonstrate how little we know about historical figures. We are given all this "secret" information about people like Morgan, and we are given no choice but to think that things like this could never have happened. As outrageous as it is to think that J.P. Morgan had a secret room full of smuggled treasures, where he holds a meeting with Henry Ford that no one ever found out about, we realize that there are millions of intimate details in his life that we don't know about, but that did actually happen. Just as this hidden room being slotted into the hard facts of J.P. Morgan's life led to a trip to Egypt and a night in a pyramid, all the other details in Morgan's life that even Doctorow never found out about led to several other events that were important to him and the people around him. The same goes for all of the historical figures mentioned in Ragtime.
In highlighting fine details in the lives of historical characters, Doctorow is emphasizing the fact that famous historical figures were real people with real lives. What we know about them is only what historians choose to tell us. In showing us this, Doctorow is undermining the idea that there is some overarching metanarrative to history. Every tiny detail of someone's life has some importance and consequence, and which ones are important can be up to anyone to decide.
In highlighting fine details in the lives of historical characters, Doctorow is emphasizing the fact that famous historical figures were real people with real lives. What we know about them is only what historians choose to tell us. In showing us this, Doctorow is undermining the idea that there is some overarching metanarrative to history. Every tiny detail of someone's life has some importance and consequence, and which ones are important can be up to anyone to decide.
Friday, 26 January 2018
(History As Fiction) Father's Politics
Political and social ideas are displayed everywhere in Ragtime, because each small plot is part of the metanarrative of the time period in which it is set. Doctorow's politics are oozing from his book in every scene, and I think that the deepest analysis of it will boil down to his beliefs. This blog post analyses the politics that Doctorow reveals in Father.
Through all of the book, Father is depicted as a typically thick-headed, slightly racist, white, middle-class dad. He is utterly stereotypical and intentionally written to be the least likable character in the book. He responds to Coalhouse showing up to his house by taking an instant dislike to him because of his pride and posh appearance. There were many times when Father made me cringe, most notably of which was when he heard the remarkable performance of ragtime music and asked Coalhouse if he knew any "coon music", to which no one knew how to respond, and Coalhouse became exceedingly agitated. This scene was obviously written to make the reader feel uneasy about Father's opinions.
After Coalhouse starts his rampage, we are again made to feel a deep discomfort of Father as a person, as he chews out Younger Brother for sympathizing with Coalhouse for having had his betrothed killed and his car destroyed. This is when tensions appear to be highest between Father and Younger, who has a history of embodying a more understandable liberal viewpoint and knowledge of other people's problems.
The idea I think Doctorow is trying to convey here is related to Coalhouse's purpose for blowing up the fire station: as we said in class, he is 1960's civil rights transplanted into the 1900's, and he wants his right to his car. Father clearly fails to see that basic issue because of his pig-headed ignorance. People who have an understanding and appreciation for others, like Younger clearly has, as pointed out by his knowledge of ragtime music, will understand their issues and take the just side, while people like Father, who fail to know the difference between their stereotypes and reality, will pick whichever side their stereotypes point to from the beginning, which is not usually the just side.
Through all of the book, Father is depicted as a typically thick-headed, slightly racist, white, middle-class dad. He is utterly stereotypical and intentionally written to be the least likable character in the book. He responds to Coalhouse showing up to his house by taking an instant dislike to him because of his pride and posh appearance. There were many times when Father made me cringe, most notably of which was when he heard the remarkable performance of ragtime music and asked Coalhouse if he knew any "coon music", to which no one knew how to respond, and Coalhouse became exceedingly agitated. This scene was obviously written to make the reader feel uneasy about Father's opinions.
After Coalhouse starts his rampage, we are again made to feel a deep discomfort of Father as a person, as he chews out Younger Brother for sympathizing with Coalhouse for having had his betrothed killed and his car destroyed. This is when tensions appear to be highest between Father and Younger, who has a history of embodying a more understandable liberal viewpoint and knowledge of other people's problems.
The idea I think Doctorow is trying to convey here is related to Coalhouse's purpose for blowing up the fire station: as we said in class, he is 1960's civil rights transplanted into the 1900's, and he wants his right to his car. Father clearly fails to see that basic issue because of his pig-headed ignorance. People who have an understanding and appreciation for others, like Younger clearly has, as pointed out by his knowledge of ragtime music, will understand their issues and take the just side, while people like Father, who fail to know the difference between their stereotypes and reality, will pick whichever side their stereotypes point to from the beginning, which is not usually the just side.
Saturday, 16 December 2017
Macon Dead
Milkman in Song of Solomon is the third Macon Dead, with the name originating because of a slip up. We learn later that the real name of Milkman's grandfather was Jake, but perhaps the better name for him and his descendants was Macon Dead, many of the reasons for which refer the the name sounding like "making dead".
Jake was born a slave who became free and, because of his freedom, was able to own a farm that was amazingly successful at growing peaches for its location. It could be said that he started a new life when his name was changed to Macon Dead, so the old life and name of Jake were metaphorically made dead. He was also killed, or made dead, for his land.
Macon Dead II more directly fitted the name "making dead". After his father was killed, he spent a night in a cave, where he stabbed a man to death. He also wanted to kill his wife after he saw her in bed with her father, and he tried to kill Milkman before he was born.
Milkman was rarely referred to as Macon, and his father, from whom the lineage of Macon Dead came, had nothing to do with the name "Milkman". He also tried subtly to distance himself from his father, and, therefore, the meaning of his name. As such, it makes sense that Milkman didn't do much killing or getting killed at first. Even as Hagar tried to kill him, she always failed. Only as he got to learn and care about his family's history did his given name meant what it sounded like: Hagar died because of him, and (I think) he made himself dead at the very end of the book.
Even the Dead who was barely known as Macon ended up embodying the name that his grandfather was accidentally given. If the name Jake were passed down to Milkman and his father, the name wouldn't be nearly as descriptive of their lives.
Jake was born a slave who became free and, because of his freedom, was able to own a farm that was amazingly successful at growing peaches for its location. It could be said that he started a new life when his name was changed to Macon Dead, so the old life and name of Jake were metaphorically made dead. He was also killed, or made dead, for his land.
Macon Dead II more directly fitted the name "making dead". After his father was killed, he spent a night in a cave, where he stabbed a man to death. He also wanted to kill his wife after he saw her in bed with her father, and he tried to kill Milkman before he was born.
Milkman was rarely referred to as Macon, and his father, from whom the lineage of Macon Dead came, had nothing to do with the name "Milkman". He also tried subtly to distance himself from his father, and, therefore, the meaning of his name. As such, it makes sense that Milkman didn't do much killing or getting killed at first. Even as Hagar tried to kill him, she always failed. Only as he got to learn and care about his family's history did his given name meant what it sounded like: Hagar died because of him, and (I think) he made himself dead at the very end of the book.
Even the Dead who was barely known as Macon ended up embodying the name that his grandfather was accidentally given. If the name Jake were passed down to Milkman and his father, the name wouldn't be nearly as descriptive of their lives.
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