Sunday, November 17, 2013

Illusion


Why is the transition to realism and modernism an ideal period for marriage conflict? As a guy, I sometimes find it difficult to be whisked into an emotional tangle like Dreiser’s Sister Carrie. Unfortunately, watching Gatsby recently prepared me to understand it more. I am not sure I can handle another conflict over a woman.

At the end of chapter 21, Dreiser writes of Hurstwood, “The manager started, hit as he was by a problem which was more difficult than hers. He gave no sign of the thoughts that flashed like messages to his mind” (144). He does indeed have a problem. He’s a married man who wants to marry another girl. Not that it’s acceptable, but he does not even want to divorce the woman he has now. It seems that his distaste for her promotes her ill temper, which is why he dislikes her anyway. Come on, man.

And Carrie. I’m not sure how I feel about her. I know she’s been caught up in big Chicago. The men initially attract her because they can take care of her, not because they care for her. A lot of her troubles have begun because of Minnie and Hanson’s frugality, of course, but the poor girl needs to realize the trouble she’s entered.

I suppose she cannot be expected to avoid the problem if the men haven’t given her any hints at all. They’re built on illusions. The entire Gatsby affair confronted the same problem—the illusions of the emerging big city. Despite the façade, illusion runs deeply into every pore of life, including marriage.  I just hope Carrie prevents the same violent ending.

Naturally Fresh

New Criticism: a method of literary evaluation and interpretation practiced chiefly in the mid-20th century that emphasizes close examination of a text with minimum regard for the biographical or historical circumstances in which it was produced. (American Heritage definition)

The definition above refers to a dominant form of literary theory that, although developed in the 20’s and 30’s, most certainly took its cues from American naturalism. It is time and period appropriate, as the criticism was born in America and featured American writers and thinkers almost exclusively. Our own Dr. Mitchell is very much a New Critic (note the way in which he has us analyze the texts and write papers) and part of the reason why this form of criticism flourishes in naturalism is because the text logically lends itself to close readings divorced from time/place and the intentions of the author. Remember how The Red Badge of Courage detailed several skirmishes of the Civil War without ever disclosing the location of the battles, the people involved, or the author’s own political opinions. McTeague most certainly took place in San Francisco, yet presented its characters and circumstances from an objective and unbiased viewpoint while shielding the opinions of the author.

Sister Carrie is no different but in fact exemplifies these virtues just as much as the others. Though it clearly takes place in Chicago, the novel bears no socioeconomic critique of the city or its industrialist policies. The narrator details many different aspects and historical elements of life in the city in a neutral tone of voice that hides the narrator’s true feelings about the circumstances. Authors like Dickens and Orwell wrote in such a manner that one cannot help but discuss their socioeconomic goals, but a close reading of Sister Carrie tells you nothing about Theodore Dreiser – this is by design. Instead of making direct statements about morality or ethics, Dreiser instead presents the character’s emotional and mental processes as impartially as he possibly can, creating a sort of omniscient documentary that seeks not to prove a point but present living facts. This ties back into New Criticism because proponents of this theory read literature with no mind for the author’s intentions or what outside circumstances brought the text itself because all that matters is the text itself. Likewise for the naturalist, all that matters is life and humanity itself, so that’s all that you get – as Dreiser seeks to prove, that’s all you really need.




Sister Carrie 1

This book reminds me of two words, consumerism and materialistic. From the very first page, we already know the type of person Sister Carrie is. She is materialistic, and that doesn’t necessarily have to be a bad thing. There is nothing wrong with wanting to have nice things, but Sister Carrie may be a little more caught up in that idea than she should be. Right off the bat, the narrator makes sure to bring attention to Sister Carrie’s fake purse. She is so caught up with trying to have the best of everything that she buys a knock-off purse so that people think she has money. 

Sister Carrie isn’t the only person in this book who puts money above everything. Sister Carrie’s sister and brother-in-law are also very materialistic. At first, they seems like a conservative people who are looking out for Sister Carrie. Minnie tries to suggest they do free things for entertainment, and her husband makes sure Sister Carrie budgets her money for car fair when she goes to work. We find out later that the only reason Sister Carrie is staying with them is so she can help supplement their income. They want money out of her, they do not simply want the comfort of family.

This book is about consumerism. It shows how much people want to have nice possessions, and how they will do anything to be able to buy those possessions. Sister Carries works all day at a job that she doesn’t like, and by the time she pays her sister and buys food and whatnot, she has barely any money left to buy any of the nice things she wants. Her sister lures Sister Carrie in under the pretense that she is visiting a loving sister only to realize, her sister just needs her to help foot the bills.  

Sunday, November 10, 2013

I have come to the conclusion that WiFi and I will forever be enemies.


I have not read a novel in a while that has made my jaw physically drop from the shock of words I read, but McTeague has given my jaw quite a work out.  The content itself is not really that shocking, but when the first half of the novel is taken into consideration, it does get a bit obnoxious.  

I think more than anything I am shocked by how long Trina is allowed to go on in her miserly-ways while McTeague does not do anything about it until much later--and by then it is very extreme...because he kills her.  Oddly, it almost feels justified (and somewhat relieving) when McTeague kills Trina, which makes it scary as the reader to be okay with actions I know to be wrong.  But before she was killed, I kept wondering when someone was going to do something about Trina's behavior.  It is overwhelming to read about greed of that degree and see how it infects a person.  Their whole marriage looked more like cohabitation rather than a situation where “two become one.”  Trina repeatedly referred to the money as hers, would correct herself, then call it “ours”—but the heart of the issue never changed.  She always saw the money as hers and hers alone. 

Consider how Trina handles herself and then consider how she handles money.  For some time, she physically withheld herself from McTeague before the day of the kiss.  After the kiss, she decides to give herself over in marriage.  But the moment she physically surrenders to him, everything outside of her person becomes an object she must take in to fill what had been lost in physically giving in to McTeague.  The only difference between a prude and a miser is the difference between sex and money.  The motive and result of the action is the same internal decision: to withhold from another person, who in this case is her husband.  

Chaos, Chaos Everywhere

Last week, I wrote about how uncomfortable I got reading McTeague, this week, I am going to write about how chaos unfolds throughout the novel. It starts with a kiss, albeit, a nonconsensual kiss that the other party knows nothing about; which is a chaotic event because of what happens in the moments leading up to the kiss. McTeague then decides he is going to marry Trina despite the fact that she has already denied his proposal, and sets off to do just that. After a strange day spent in the company of her family, which is a chaotic excursion to say the least, McTeague spends the night in her room and fawns over every item that he knows belongs to her. Then, after Trina and McTeague gets married, the chaos spirals out of control. Trina begins hoarding her money like a miser and won’t let McTeague use any money that she believes belongs to her. McTeague and Marcus get into a fight because Marcus is still in love with Trina which leads to Marcus leaving town and telling the authorities that McTeague doesn’t have a license to practice dentistry. Once McTeague loses his practice, Trina continues to hoard her money which leads to McTeague robbing her, running away, and eventually killing her. And of course, the novel wouldn’t be complete without McTeague killing Marcus in the middle of Death Valley and eventually dying himself, or at least I’m pretty sure he will die, because he is handcuffed to Marcus’ dead body. All of these events are completely chaotic and all stem from McTeague being unable to handle change.

Death&Death&Death


The ending to McTeague by Frank Norris is disturbing to say the least. McTeague’s struggles finally overtake him. Despite his early desires to suppress the wild giant inside him, the big bad blonde man succeeds in annihilating himself, his friends, and the entire world he knows as Norris writes: “McTeague did not know how he killed is enemy, but all at once Marcus grew still beneath his blows. Then there was a sudden last return of energy. McTeague’s right wrist was caught; something clicked upon it’ then the struggling body fell limp and motionless with a long breath” (347).  McTeague had blindly destroyed and had been destroyed.

In the end, Marcus represents the baggage that McTeague could never rid from himself. Norris emphasizes Mac’s inescapable old life, using Marcus to capture McTeague in the end. The money had made Mac crave a higher position, but to achieve it, he would necessarily abandon the life he had always known. Marcus, even in death, ensures that MacTeague cannot escape with his corrupt desires.

The reader must remember what started the collapse. Norris reminds the reader continually during the second half of his novel. The money undoubtedly corrupts them all. Trina rolls in her own gold. MacTeague twice steals money from Trina and twice kills for money (Trina and Marcus). Marcus challenges McTeague, betting his own life for the sack of money McTeague had stolen.

The reader must ask what Norris really desires to convey. Is it the evil of money in itself? Is it the ever-growing industrial world that allows money to accumulate?

McTeague: The End

I did not see the end of this book coming at all. I can't believe Mac killed Trina. Although, I should have known something like this would happen. Any time there is so many greedy people together in one place something bad always happens. This book is proof that loving money brings nothing but evil. Every person in this book who lets greed get the best of them ends up in bad situations.

Even with all the death, I love the end of the book. At the beginning of the book Mac is kind of likable, but he changes. I just wanted him to get what was coming to him. So, I love that after he kills Marcus, he finds himself handcuffed to the body. I thought it was hilarious and very fitting. Wether he dies or gets caught, we know karma gives him what he deserves.