Chapter 38 provides us with the last and final meeting of Moira and Offred. After reading this chapter, I couldn't help but feel betrayed or maybe better wording would be disappointed. I would say the blame is equal between the character of Moira herself, and Atwood allowing this scene to be the final time Moira and Offred ever see each other.
Moira herself disappointed me in the fact that she settled in becoming a "Jezebel" instead of being shipped to a colony after her escape. Though she does describe the colonies, or at least some of them, as basically a work/death colony, her choice doesn't seem to fit the role Atwood put her in throughout the entire book leading up to this scene. Like Offred herself, I thought of Moira as the feminist lesbian, more than ready to stand up for her rights, for her freedom. This is illustrated in many dialogues(flashback dialogues mostly)and of course Moira's escape from the center as well. However, Moira settling to become a whore of sorts for the commanders, and even using her own sexuality in this profession struck me as odd. She seemed so against the institution of these men using these women for their bodies, yet she is now contributing even more to their sexual prowess. Like Offred, the heroism that Moira exuded was seemingly lost when she revealed herself in this scene.
Now I ponder why Atwood included this scene. Was it to point out that even the most feminist women who stand for a cause can be broken? I think that may be one explanation. But on top of that, I think Atwood is setting Offred up to be more independent. She can no longer hold Moira up as a hero, and compare herself as a coward... because she now realizes that this institution can ruin anyone if they are exposed long enough. I also think Atwood included this scene to make Offred come to terms with her mother's mortality. She is forced to recognize the fact that her mother is not well off, she did not escape. She has been faced with the worst predicament that Offred could think of. That itself forces Offred to perhaps stop living in a fantasy land of hope, and come to grips with reality.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Layers of touch, Layers of memory
I realize my blog entry is inexcusably late, but I wanted to put this out there anyway.
We determined that the purpose of Offred telling her story was twofold: to remember and to document. In her telling, we are presented with the overwhelming importance of her sense of touch.
Offred, clad in those heavy white wings that function as blinders, is unable to see the world around her except in glimpses. When a person is blind or visually impaired, their sense of touch is heightened in order to make up for the absence of sight. In Offred’s world, she is deprived of that option. She’s locked in.
Offred lives in a society where touch is forbidden. Offred has an intense desire to touch things. Offred needs to hold onto her past, and touch and tactile senses are incredibly crucial forces when it comes triggering memories. Yet doesn’t it seem as though the recollection of the way something feels is the first to go when a memory starts fuzzing over?
I was reminded of an episode of my favorite radio show, RadioLab, which investigated how memory works. Can one touch a memory? Can it be pinched between one’s fingers? While it’s unsurprising that memory is a very precarious thing, I was surprised to learn that every time you remember something, you are actually creating more and more distance between yourself and the original memory.
In class, we discussed Offred’s role as a narrator who is conscious of her audience. Another thing that has struck me throughout the text is that she is assuming the role of the listener as well. We see her dissecting her own diction, breaking words down into puns. We see her deconstructing her own language, giving feedback to her own, as a reader would, but the difference is that this isn’t her job. She is the narrator. She is the storyteller.
I wonder if this circles back around to her longing for touch or a sense of closeness. By bookending both sides of her stories by being both the storyteller and the audience, wouldn’t this allow her to reach through the bathroom wall and make a connection, so to speak? I see this as a means of not only making an intimate connection with her present self, but of making an intimate connection to her past as well.
If you are interested in downloading this episode of RadioLab, you can find it here. It’s equally as entertaining as it is informative, and the third story in the segment is incredible. I highly recommend it.
We determined that the purpose of Offred telling her story was twofold: to remember and to document. In her telling, we are presented with the overwhelming importance of her sense of touch.
Offred, clad in those heavy white wings that function as blinders, is unable to see the world around her except in glimpses. When a person is blind or visually impaired, their sense of touch is heightened in order to make up for the absence of sight. In Offred’s world, she is deprived of that option. She’s locked in.
Offred lives in a society where touch is forbidden. Offred has an intense desire to touch things. Offred needs to hold onto her past, and touch and tactile senses are incredibly crucial forces when it comes triggering memories. Yet doesn’t it seem as though the recollection of the way something feels is the first to go when a memory starts fuzzing over?
I was reminded of an episode of my favorite radio show, RadioLab, which investigated how memory works. Can one touch a memory? Can it be pinched between one’s fingers? While it’s unsurprising that memory is a very precarious thing, I was surprised to learn that every time you remember something, you are actually creating more and more distance between yourself and the original memory.
“Every time you’re remembering something, you’re recreating it. And so if you’re recreating it each time, then each time you’re remembering something, it’s a brand new memory. The act of remembering, on a literal level, it’s an act of creation. Every memory is rebuilt anew every time you remember it. Not only is it an act of creation, it’s an act of imagination. Every time you remember something, you change the memory a little bit. We’re always changing the memories slightly. You think you are remembering something that took place thirty years ago, actually what you are remembering is that memory reinterpreted in the light of today. All you’ve got is your most recent recollection of something. The more you remember something, in a sense, the more inaccurate it becomes.”Initially I thought that Offred’s desperation to remember and re-remember was working against her. But then I remembered something—her sense of touch. In those sneaking moments, she is able to use her sense of touch to trigger, very suddenly, those memories that are locked away. And by immediately recording these stories and making note of the sensory elements therein, it seems as though she'd be awfully successful in preserving these memories in their purest form.
“[Suddenly remembering something] is a more honest memory than thinking about that memory every day of his life since [it happened]. The safest memory, the one that’s uncontaminatable, is the one that exists within a patient that has amnesia. If you have a memory, the more you use it, the more you’re likely to change it. If you’re never using a memory, it is secured.”
In class, we discussed Offred’s role as a narrator who is conscious of her audience. Another thing that has struck me throughout the text is that she is assuming the role of the listener as well. We see her dissecting her own diction, breaking words down into puns. We see her deconstructing her own language, giving feedback to her own, as a reader would, but the difference is that this isn’t her job. She is the narrator. She is the storyteller.
I wonder if this circles back around to her longing for touch or a sense of closeness. By bookending both sides of her stories by being both the storyteller and the audience, wouldn’t this allow her to reach through the bathroom wall and make a connection, so to speak? I see this as a means of not only making an intimate connection with her present self, but of making an intimate connection to her past as well.
If you are interested in downloading this episode of RadioLab, you can find it here. It’s equally as entertaining as it is informative, and the third story in the segment is incredible. I highly recommend it.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
"Gymnasium"
I found the shifts from flashback to present tense remarkable. It really helped paint a picture about the world that the Handmaids live in, without any explicit explanations of the key terms and laws that are in place. I'll admit, I definitely felt very lost when I first started reading the novel. In fact, this started to upset me quite a bit. I had not been looking forward to reading this novel after only skimming the first half of the blurb on the back, and now the first page had baffled me. It seemed I was in for a long ride. Determined to get through this, I decided to give the confusing first page another glance.
The most notable point of confusion I remember was seeing the word "gymnasium" on the first page, and I had to start over again. I was not expecting to read that word and needed to back up and get a clearer understanding. It did not arrive immediately, but as I pressed on the world unfolded in an extremely delightful manner. At first this book was not so appealing to me, but the further I get into it, the more eager I am to learn what happens next. I hope everyone else is enjoying this novel as much as I am now.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Stylistic Choices
I felt as though I missed a chapter when I first opened this book! The story began abruptly, with the usage of unfamiliar terms, like Angel and Handmaid, right off the bat - a bit intimidating, but intriguing. Like many of my classmates, I found myself very engaged in the novel, even from an early point of reading, due to the stylistic choices Atwood made.
The change in tenses through flashbacks made me become caught up in the novel immediately – as if I had been reading it for much longer than I had. The amount I felt immersed into the story was surprising – I found the descriptions and storyline eerily realistic (most likely this was attributed to the usage of intense descriptions).
I love how physically the author describes settings – in the second chapter, almost every paragraph begins with a blunt list of items or colors: “a chair, a table, lamp.” The way people are described is also very physical. I sense that this will be of note later on in the book
I predict themes later on to revolve around a sense of self and individuality, and I am excited to read on and see how the stylistic choices aid to the unfolding of themes in the novel!
The change in tenses through flashbacks made me become caught up in the novel immediately – as if I had been reading it for much longer than I had. The amount I felt immersed into the story was surprising – I found the descriptions and storyline eerily realistic (most likely this was attributed to the usage of intense descriptions).
I love how physically the author describes settings – in the second chapter, almost every paragraph begins with a blunt list of items or colors: “a chair, a table, lamp.” The way people are described is also very physical. I sense that this will be of note later on in the book
I predict themes later on to revolve around a sense of self and individuality, and I am excited to read on and see how the stylistic choices aid to the unfolding of themes in the novel!
Offred's Secret Prayer
Although Offred doesn’t strike me as a particularly fervent believer in whatever permutation of Christianity the state religion is in the Republic of Gilead, when she prays before the ritual rape scene she seems to acknowledge the concept of prayer as legitimate, and in her prayer a significant part of why she survives is reinforced: her hidden individuality. She prays, “Nolite te bastardes carborundorum,” and although she adds that she doesn’t know what it means literally, it has a functional meaning to her. The woman who occupied her room previously had inscribed it in the wood of her cupboard. It was an act of defiance of the previous occupant, and in reading the inscription it became an act of defiance for Offred too.
I don’t know yet if she ever finds out what it means, but with the aid of that most eminently valuable college resource, Wikipedia, I found it is a fake-Latin phrase meaning, “Don’t let the bastards grind you down.” How appropriate that even though Offred doesn’t know this (being cruelly deprived of Wikipedia as she is), the phrase attains the exact same significance in her mind as it has in a literal sense. She uses it to assert some degree of agency in a place where she cannot be controlled by the Commander’s regime: her internal monologue. It’s an assertion of resilience against the criminal actions of the theocracy of Gilead. It symbolizes for her that another woman was silently strong behind an assenting façade, a paradigm that she can emulate and thus retain some semblance of self. Without a creed like this, it is easy to conceive that the impossible situation in which she finds herself could destroy her utterly, could grind her down to nothing. With it, she can secretly be more than a walking uterus. She can keep thinking for herself, survive behind a final protective mental wall, and maybe she can escape her social prison.
I don’t know yet if she ever finds out what it means, but with the aid of that most eminently valuable college resource, Wikipedia, I found it is a fake-Latin phrase meaning, “Don’t let the bastards grind you down.” How appropriate that even though Offred doesn’t know this (being cruelly deprived of Wikipedia as she is), the phrase attains the exact same significance in her mind as it has in a literal sense. She uses it to assert some degree of agency in a place where she cannot be controlled by the Commander’s regime: her internal monologue. It’s an assertion of resilience against the criminal actions of the theocracy of Gilead. It symbolizes for her that another woman was silently strong behind an assenting façade, a paradigm that she can emulate and thus retain some semblance of self. Without a creed like this, it is easy to conceive that the impossible situation in which she finds herself could destroy her utterly, could grind her down to nothing. With it, she can secretly be more than a walking uterus. She can keep thinking for herself, survive behind a final protective mental wall, and maybe she can escape her social prison.
Two visions of dystopian society
Atwood’s Handmaid’s Tale is frighteningly reminiscent in so many ways of perhaps the most famous dystopian novel, George Orwell’s 1984; many of the hallmark elements of dystopian societies are prevalent—obscuring of language and propaganda, restriction of civil liberties, constant warfare and surveillance and a rigid hierarchy. There do however, seem to be some key differences that I would like to point out, particularly in the instruments each ruling class uses to subjugate others in the respective novels.
The first mechanism by which the state seeks to manipulate its subjects in both novels is through a distortion or reallocation of identity. In the case of Orwell this is achieved by and large by conflating personal and social identities; the Party as described in 1984 ties the identities of its subjects to the state. Through this they come to view themselves as something larger than they truly are, thereby convincing them to accept party rule. Atwood’s ruling caste takes a much more bluntly instrumentalist approach; people come to view themselves as mere instruments of the state: women become no more than wombs with legs, and the men nothing more than weapons for crushing all resistance.
Indeed Atwood’s society is much more outwardly brutish and repressive than the one Orwell describes. Public executions, beatings in the handmaid training center and the institutionalized right of commanders’ wives to strike handmaids are all notably prevalent. In Orwell’s 1984, the state’s use of violence against its own people is much more subtle and occurs underground, in both a figurative and literal sense. The novel’s climactic scene, in which Winston Smith is tortured takes place a deep sub-basement of the ironically-named Ministry of Love.
The final instrument by which each society controls its populous is, quite appropriately, the distortion of language, and in this sense the differences between the two novels are largely indistinguishable. Both societies adopt their own vocabulary to make sense of the events transpiring around them, though in one subtle respect Gilead’s language structure is much more insidious. Whereas the state of Oceania, described in 1984, uses its language to blatantly promote the party ideology, Gilead couches its propaganda in religious terms. As the many real life examples of theocratic societies (and even in the case of would-be theocrats in this country) exhibit, people by and large tend to be much more passionate about religious ideologies than political ones. This makes Atwood’s vision of the future much more frightening, and also much more realistic.
The first mechanism by which the state seeks to manipulate its subjects in both novels is through a distortion or reallocation of identity. In the case of Orwell this is achieved by and large by conflating personal and social identities; the Party as described in 1984 ties the identities of its subjects to the state. Through this they come to view themselves as something larger than they truly are, thereby convincing them to accept party rule. Atwood’s ruling caste takes a much more bluntly instrumentalist approach; people come to view themselves as mere instruments of the state: women become no more than wombs with legs, and the men nothing more than weapons for crushing all resistance.
Indeed Atwood’s society is much more outwardly brutish and repressive than the one Orwell describes. Public executions, beatings in the handmaid training center and the institutionalized right of commanders’ wives to strike handmaids are all notably prevalent. In Orwell’s 1984, the state’s use of violence against its own people is much more subtle and occurs underground, in both a figurative and literal sense. The novel’s climactic scene, in which Winston Smith is tortured takes place a deep sub-basement of the ironically-named Ministry of Love.
The final instrument by which each society controls its populous is, quite appropriately, the distortion of language, and in this sense the differences between the two novels are largely indistinguishable. Both societies adopt their own vocabulary to make sense of the events transpiring around them, though in one subtle respect Gilead’s language structure is much more insidious. Whereas the state of Oceania, described in 1984, uses its language to blatantly promote the party ideology, Gilead couches its propaganda in religious terms. As the many real life examples of theocratic societies (and even in the case of would-be theocrats in this country) exhibit, people by and large tend to be much more passionate about religious ideologies than political ones. This makes Atwood’s vision of the future much more frightening, and also much more realistic.
America as a Theocracy
As I read The Handmaid’s Tale, I cannot help but wonder what Margaret Atwood is trying to say about American society. Gilead is a society where the government is based entirely on religion, or at least what the government leaders are interpreting from the religion. It makes me wonder if this is Atwood’s way of pointing out and/or criticizing America and its tendency to sometimes let religious viewpoints influence our law. It is probably far-fetched, but why else would she choose America as her setting and why would she choose a theocracy?
As I read the story, I keep thinking that it seems really impossible that our government could ever become completely taken over by a religion. But then I think about certain laws that are always up for debate in our country (separation of church and state, abortion, gay marriage, etc.) and how our government still does allows religion to play a role in how these laws are decided. I do not want to come off as being overly liberal here, but it seems to me that our government still considers a lot of Christian values when making decisions regarding the laws of this country, even though our country claims to have a government separate from any particular kind of religion. Perhaps The Handmaid’s Tale is Atwood’s way of calling our bluff. Maybe she is trying to say that if we continue to allow religion to rule our land, then we may ultimately revert back to colonial America where religion REALLY ruled the way society was run. I know this is probably a stretch but it is what continually comes to my mind as I am reading. I am interested in hearing what other people think inspired Atwood to write this novel and her reasoning for the choices she made.
As I read the story, I keep thinking that it seems really impossible that our government could ever become completely taken over by a religion. But then I think about certain laws that are always up for debate in our country (separation of church and state, abortion, gay marriage, etc.) and how our government still does allows religion to play a role in how these laws are decided. I do not want to come off as being overly liberal here, but it seems to me that our government still considers a lot of Christian values when making decisions regarding the laws of this country, even though our country claims to have a government separate from any particular kind of religion. Perhaps The Handmaid’s Tale is Atwood’s way of calling our bluff. Maybe she is trying to say that if we continue to allow religion to rule our land, then we may ultimately revert back to colonial America where religion REALLY ruled the way society was run. I know this is probably a stretch but it is what continually comes to my mind as I am reading. I am interested in hearing what other people think inspired Atwood to write this novel and her reasoning for the choices she made.
The Handmaid's Tale
Because Gilead was formed in response to the crisis caused by dramatically decreased birthrates, the state's entire structure, with its religious trappings and rigid political hierarchy, is built around a single goal: control of reproduction. The state tackles the problem head-on by assuming complete control of women's bodies through their political subjugation. Women cannot vote, hold property or jobs, read, or do anything else that might allow them to become subversive or independent and thereby undermine their husbands or the state. Women are reduced to their fertility and treated as nothing more than a means of reproduction. At one point, Offred lies in the bath and thinks about how before Gilead, she considered her body an instrument of her desires; now, she is just a mound of flesh surrounding the womb that must be filled in order to make herself useful.
Because it is illegal for women to hold jobs, there is a system of titles in Gilead. Men are defined by their military rank, and women are defined by their roles as Wives, Marthas, or Handmaids. This too strips them of their individuality. Blacks and jews are also reduced to titles. They are referred to in biblical terms like “children of ham”, and “sons of Jacob”, setting them apart from the rest of society.
I know that this isn’t necessarily a close reading of the novel, but it is just something that has disturbed me at many points of the novel. It is like Gilead is this town completely ran by the government in order to serve the elite.
Because it is illegal for women to hold jobs, there is a system of titles in Gilead. Men are defined by their military rank, and women are defined by their roles as Wives, Marthas, or Handmaids. This too strips them of their individuality. Blacks and jews are also reduced to titles. They are referred to in biblical terms like “children of ham”, and “sons of Jacob”, setting them apart from the rest of society.
I know that this isn’t necessarily a close reading of the novel, but it is just something that has disturbed me at many points of the novel. It is like Gilead is this town completely ran by the government in order to serve the elite.
The idea of color
In Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale, the idea of color is a predominate theme I have found in the story. Color appears to dictate role, rights, as well as, status. The handmaids sport all red ‘habits’ with white wings on their bonnets with red bags; Marthas wear an off green; Rich married women wear blue; Man of power of importance wear all black; Econowives dress in tattered stripped clothing.
I have become interested in why this woman focuses solely of color details—with trees, tulips, grass, etc. The world appears to have nothing truly awesome existing—only war, oppression, and misunderstandings; and these things are not magnificent, in the sense of beauty or value, but rather demand awe due to their destruction of the color world. My definition of the ‘color world’ is the world outside of restrains; outside the cruelties of the world—the color world is innocence. She often wonders what it would be like to be outside this world surrounded by a faded red wall, The Wall; to be a cloud, a tree, etc. things which are not affected by war, and oppression. I believe she wants to understand why the world around her is the way it is and how it got that way—from innocence to corruption, freedom to and freedom from. In the Gilead society, one has the freedom to innocence and freedom from corruption. Although the idea of a utopia is amazing, no species can live in a perfect world. (E.g. many famous anthropologists explain in a perfect society there would be over population, death, and final extinction. Additionally, a radical change in environment often causes species to die off). With these two ideas one can see the transformation for a corrupted society to an innocent society would cause massive repercussions on the ability to bread as well as the ability to survive.
If the people of Gilead, realized their situations there would be no oppression, war, and misunderstanding. The non-forced world of innocence would not result in war, the Eyes, the Guardians, the Angels, and all that subcategorizes creating the hierarchy of this society. Atwood also appears to play with ideas about anthropology in her writing (hinting the importance of balance?).
I have become interested in why this woman focuses solely of color details—with trees, tulips, grass, etc. The world appears to have nothing truly awesome existing—only war, oppression, and misunderstandings; and these things are not magnificent, in the sense of beauty or value, but rather demand awe due to their destruction of the color world. My definition of the ‘color world’ is the world outside of restrains; outside the cruelties of the world—the color world is innocence. She often wonders what it would be like to be outside this world surrounded by a faded red wall, The Wall; to be a cloud, a tree, etc. things which are not affected by war, and oppression. I believe she wants to understand why the world around her is the way it is and how it got that way—from innocence to corruption, freedom to and freedom from. In the Gilead society, one has the freedom to innocence and freedom from corruption. Although the idea of a utopia is amazing, no species can live in a perfect world. (E.g. many famous anthropologists explain in a perfect society there would be over population, death, and final extinction. Additionally, a radical change in environment often causes species to die off). With these two ideas one can see the transformation for a corrupted society to an innocent society would cause massive repercussions on the ability to bread as well as the ability to survive.
If the people of Gilead, realized their situations there would be no oppression, war, and misunderstanding. The non-forced world of innocence would not result in war, the Eyes, the Guardians, the Angels, and all that subcategorizes creating the hierarchy of this society. Atwood also appears to play with ideas about anthropology in her writing (hinting the importance of balance?).
Crucial Nights
Night, Shopping, Night, Waiting Room, Nap, Household, Night. Does this mean we are ready to start day four? I believe so. From the way it appears - although I haven't finished it - this novel occurs over 6 days and 7 nights. I have no conclusions for this point, I just found it interesting. Sometimes I get annoyed by how Margaret Atwood doesn't use quotation marks. However, she somehow does a good job of letting us know who is speaking at what time. She, like Laurence does in The Jest of God gives the narrator some interesting dreams that help provide background to the story. I am reminded of A Brave New World as well as 1984 when I read this novel. However, it seems as if this is a type of dystopian society that would come before the times of those novels, for in this novel there are those whom still remember what life was like 'before'. I can't help but think she will die in the end, however, I'm probably wrong. I find it very difficult for one to realize hat Offred is to mean "Of Fred" and Ofglen "Of Glen", as in belonging to. Does it specify this later in the book or did I just miss it? I believe Atwook does a fine job of creating the setting. I have always kept a vivid image in my mind of the setting the narrator is in. Atwood has somehow caused me to feel sympathy for nobody in this novel by appearing to make me feel sorry for everyone. Regardless, she has certainly revived my interest in dystopian novels... any other good one's besides 1984, Brave New World, and Farenheit 451?
---Aaron Abel
---Aaron Abel
Society's Tool - The Handmaid's Tale
There are so many ongoing themes that play an intricate part in really understanding this novel that it's hard to just speak on a few. To begin, it is very interesting how these women are stripped of their names, in turn stripped of their whole identity prior to the rise of this theocratic society. For all purposes, these women are just vessels to harbor the children of the powerful men, though it seems that society is matriarchal in rule. I also noticed that in taking their names, the women were given new ones. Offred could actually be read as "Of" "Fred", meaning she is the "property" of the family of Fred. I noticed the connection when the BIRTHMOBILE brought them to the house of Warren to assist in Ofwarren's (Janine) delivery. It may be a wrong interpretation of the names given. If the women, the Handmaids, are to be placed in another household would their names change as well or would they forever be known by the name given to them by their first "family"?
Because these women are stripped of their names, they are also deprived of any human contact whether intimately or through friendly gestures. There are many times when Offred longs for the touch of a man, or of anything having to do with feeling and contact with another living being. That plays into the sexuality aspect and the fact that she is not longer and autonomous being when it comes to playing out her sexual desires and fantasies. She is and will always be seen as a vessel for child bearing. A tool in producing a better society.
Reading further into the book, there is a sense of the "Women's Liberation" movement gone overboard. There are a lot of contradictions with the doctrines used to train the Handmaids. I feel the use of the Bible to "brainwash" (for lack of a better term) the women is a biased and misrepresentation of what the Bible is meant for. For instance, Chapter 15, the household gathers to hear the Commander read from the Bible. Offred goes back and reminisces about her time at the Gymnasium and how they would play verses over and over through the loudspeaker. She recalls how the Beatitudes were repeated and how some of them did not sound right to her recollection; she knew some were added in just to be drilled within their minds. In the case of this book, many verses were taken and mis-interpreted to serve the purpose of this new society. Even the story of Bilhah in the book of Genesis is used as justification for their practices. It's just amazing at how differently things can be interrupted by people and how it can have such an influence as to change the whole structure of society and base everything on religious sects rather than having political control of things.
Because these women are stripped of their names, they are also deprived of any human contact whether intimately or through friendly gestures. There are many times when Offred longs for the touch of a man, or of anything having to do with feeling and contact with another living being. That plays into the sexuality aspect and the fact that she is not longer and autonomous being when it comes to playing out her sexual desires and fantasies. She is and will always be seen as a vessel for child bearing. A tool in producing a better society.
Reading further into the book, there is a sense of the "Women's Liberation" movement gone overboard. There are a lot of contradictions with the doctrines used to train the Handmaids. I feel the use of the Bible to "brainwash" (for lack of a better term) the women is a biased and misrepresentation of what the Bible is meant for. For instance, Chapter 15, the household gathers to hear the Commander read from the Bible. Offred goes back and reminisces about her time at the Gymnasium and how they would play verses over and over through the loudspeaker. She recalls how the Beatitudes were repeated and how some of them did not sound right to her recollection; she knew some were added in just to be drilled within their minds. In the case of this book, many verses were taken and mis-interpreted to serve the purpose of this new society. Even the story of Bilhah in the book of Genesis is used as justification for their practices. It's just amazing at how differently things can be interrupted by people and how it can have such an influence as to change the whole structure of society and base everything on religious sects rather than having political control of things.
The Handmains Tale
At the end of chapter four there is a hint of sexuality. The handmaid talking, talks about she likes to imagine that the guards would think of her and her friend as sexual beings. She shakes her hips hoping that they become sexually aroused but know there is no way for them to take care of that at the moment. The men do not know what to do when they are aroused. In this time people were not allowed to take control of women and were not allowed to use any other means to satisfy their sexual needs. Everything has been taken away but their imagination.
Althuogh these people have had so much taken away from them it is shown that they can still use their imagination to amuse themselves. The sexual tension that is spotted at the end of this chapter adds a small bit of excitement to this book so far. The Handmaids were people who had to hide most of their beauty. They were covered from head to toe in red cloth and had white hats atop their head. Their beauty is what is left to the imagination and what is under their red outfits. The girl in the story wants the guards to imagine what is under there and wants them to think of her as something sexual and someone to be desired as she desires the things she can no long have.
Context and Names
For what it's worth, this is probably my favorite novel of the class so far. I don't think it's the writing style so much as it's the story and the scenario. It is a fascinating hypothetical.
I think it's interesting to consider the historical context of the publication of this novel. The book was published in 1986, in the heart of the Reagan years. Reagan occasionally had a Thatcher-type influence on American literature and art, and I think the implications of neo-conservatism had an affect on Atwood's thought process. It looks like she may have been most concerned about a return to "traditional" values, i.e. less personal choice, particularly for women. Evangelism was also on the rise in the US. When Offred (I love the "Of-" names) describes Serena Joy as a former Christian TV singer/star, I can't help but think of Tammy Faye Bakker, especially when she describes her ability to "smile and cry at the same time." I have that image of Bakker with mascara streaking down her face attached to Serena Joy. What's strange, though, is just how stoic Serena is. She seems to be in nearly complete control of her emotions if you're willing to ignore her passive aggression, which permeates throughout her entire personality.
I also like the name "Serena Joy," which easily evokes "serene joy." There is a lot of dark sarcasm in this novel, and I think this is one of the best examples. I think the ideal emotional state expected of the women in Gilead is "serene joy," and everyone does their best to portray that. There is a sort of "joy" imposed upon women, the kind of joy that is implicit in the sense that all must be joyous because they are living the righteous life and that you'll be executed if you're not joyous. The "serenity" half enforces a restraint on that joy–a suggestion that while enthusiasm for Gilead is mandatorily encouraged, a show of emotion is unhealthy. But also, the only way women like Offred can show any "joy" for their role in society is by "serenity"–that is to say, by not showing at all how they really feel. I was intrigued by the scene with the Japanese tourists. (I don't know many countries that, in the midst of civil war, encourage tourists, but I'll look past that for now.) When the tourists want to know if the women are happy, I couldn't help but think of a group of American tourists visiting a strict Islamic region of the world and asking the same question. And I wonder if Atwood had the same image in mind. How often do westerners ask themselves how women could be happy in such rigidly dogmatic countries? If we take Atwood's example as authentic, the answer is obvious: no, of course those women aren't happy. The point is that, in many parts of the world, men and women are assigned a different, unequal set of rights, yet women are expected to express the same joy for life that men do. Instead, women are relegated to this "serene joy," the kind of joy that submits to a society's injustice and suppresses true expression and choice.
Disturbed beyond belief
I would venture to say that Chapter 16 in The Handmaid's Tale may very well be the most disturbing chapter of any book I have ever read. It was painful to get through to say the least. With that said, I ask myself why exactly did I find it so disturbing. It isn't because it is a sex scene, that much I can stomach. It isn't quite a rape scene, though it may be borderline. I think what truly made this scene so utterly disturbing is the vivid description, especially of Serena Joy. It is easy to sympathize with Offred, after all she is receiving what some would call the "physical" brunt of the abuse. But what about Serena Joy? What choice does she have in being present for the ceremony? Being present for her own husbands infidelity? A thousand cigarettes, and hours of allowance to a tv could never begin to offset such emotional abuse. I can't help but bring myself back to these certain lines over and over: "My arms are raised; she holds my hands, each of mine in each of hers. This is suppose to signify that we are of one flesh, one being... It may or may not be revenge." and ""Get up and get out..." There is a loathing in her voice, as if the touch of my flesh sickens and contaminates her." These specific lines make me wonder what exactly is the ceremony signifying to Serena Joy. Is she merely jealous, or does her hate stem towards her own husband for being so despicable. The novel, I suppose, will reveal such, but as of right now, this scene left many emotions a mystery, especially on the end of Serena Joy.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Social Constructions
Most likely as an advertising ploy, the message on the back of my book proclaims “In rich, pure language, in a story so powerful it will move you to tears, Margaret Atwood has drawn a chilling portrait of a future that may not be so very far away.” I, in reading the novel, also had the sense that I was supposed to be drawn into this world and feel its pending arrival in our own. This notion, perhaps because of the great amount of tyranny and furthermore the world that existed before it, that was so real, made it difficult for me to buy into the story. And of course Atwood is going to exaggerate certain forms of oppression that the reader finds around them and place these in the Republic of Gilead, I expected that, but the cruelty of this place and the mystery that surrounded it as well as the world outside was almost too much to bear.
That being said, I did not see the epigraph when I began reading. And it was not until I read our assignment that I took any notice to it. This epigraph (and maybe only in the beginning of the novel, but I have a feeling throughout it) really changes the way that I am consuming this world. The quote from Genesis brings Mount Gilead back to the Old Testament. Although there are obvious religious tones present in the novel, this quote solidifies the relevance of this new life to one that existed, and the implications of that being made obvious by the second quote. A Modest Proposal being a satire, I feel like this quote is asking us not to so much believe in the world that will be presented to the reader, but to learn from those parallels that Atwood is creating.
Moreover, I really feel like this novel is about power. Atwood wants us to examine the power reigning over the characters of Mount Gilead and taste the struggle between those who remember how life was and those who understand the new ways as how it is. She really demonstrates the legitimacy of power’s constructions over how we view the world. By exaggerating the authority and oppression it distributes, one is asked to question the constructions they are faced with and perhaps accept as the way it is.
That being said, I did not see the epigraph when I began reading. And it was not until I read our assignment that I took any notice to it. This epigraph (and maybe only in the beginning of the novel, but I have a feeling throughout it) really changes the way that I am consuming this world. The quote from Genesis brings Mount Gilead back to the Old Testament. Although there are obvious religious tones present in the novel, this quote solidifies the relevance of this new life to one that existed, and the implications of that being made obvious by the second quote. A Modest Proposal being a satire, I feel like this quote is asking us not to so much believe in the world that will be presented to the reader, but to learn from those parallels that Atwood is creating.
Moreover, I really feel like this novel is about power. Atwood wants us to examine the power reigning over the characters of Mount Gilead and taste the struggle between those who remember how life was and those who understand the new ways as how it is. She really demonstrates the legitimacy of power’s constructions over how we view the world. By exaggerating the authority and oppression it distributes, one is asked to question the constructions they are faced with and perhaps accept as the way it is.
Women in The Handmaid's Tale
I think it’s interesting that in The Handmaid’s Tale, women have no power yet there are women in the novel who seem to help the government take it away. Serena Joy’s situation is completely ironic in that she used to preach about how women should stay home and what not yet she thrived on her career. Then when her dream finally sees realization, she hates the situation she’s in. She holds no power whatsoever. Aunt Lydia also serves as a character who takes away other women’s rights. She teaches all of these women what they can and can’t do. Aunt Lydia seems to thrive on the little power she has over these handmaids, and yet when she is no longer useful she’ll probably be sent away just like they are for not being able to produce children. I also think it’s interesting that all the women seem to hate handmaids in the novel, when the handmaids had no choice in the matter. They didn’t choose to be handmaids and yet they’re despised for it. The women in the novel constantly undercut each other for their own purposes. If the women in the novel would stand together and be united they might actually be able to change their circumstances. So in a sense these women seem to have helped the government take away their own rights simply because they didn’t do anything about it and some even supported them. It just seems very odd that none of these women sympathize with one another simply because of the title that’s been assigned to them from a government. It’s like the women believe that they choose what they are now in the novel. The only character that seems to recognize this isn’t so is Cora when she reminds Rita that Offred didn’t choose to be a handmaid but had no choice.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Josh W. Blog 4
As I read the chapters assigned for Monday, the more I thought that even though this was supposed to be set in the future with the government being completely totalitarian, every time Offred made reference to the past or the chapter was a flashback, I thought how impossible this situation was no matter how powerful and all seeing the government was. Atwood writes very well and she sinks into the skin of Offred, bringing an extremely emotional touch to her interior monologues and feelings towards the environment around her but I don't know why she would in good conscience make the history in the novel so impossible to accept. There is fantasy and their is realistic fiction and she is trying to combine the two that result in something that is not fantastic and not realistic. By looking at the world today, even if a total national breakdown occurred, people would instinctively fight an authoritative take over no matter what they were promising. Its like keeping all the technology but turning back the clock on every social advancement in America 200 years. It just seems that this society comes too close to a parallel of of the movies "Death Race 2000" or "Rollerball". Another strange occurrence in this society is all the temptations Offred encounters as a part to keep the people in check. Times when Nick the Guardian tries to talk to her or touch her and when the doctor offers to sleep with her in so she can have a baby. From what I see, only women are tempted to break the law and in a somewhat paradoxical fashion, they must disobey the men who offer so they can be subservient to them and the government which took away the women's rights in the first place. Again I have to ask how can this society exist even in a literary universe when people are given chances to rebel against one small part of authority and by doing that, conform to the larger part of the authority? And by writing it this way, Atwood has taken away part of the indescribable thing that gets readers to forget they are reading. As I was reading, I kept thinking of how this future was less likely to happen in 20th century America than David Carradine racing across the country in a weapon loaded Chevrolet Corvette in order to kill the President. However, I am interested in seeing where Offred ends up within this society whether or not its realistic.
As I read the chapters assigned for Monday, the more I thought that even though this was supposed to be set in the future with the government being completely totalitarian, every time Offred made reference to the past or the chapter was a flashback, I thought how impossible this situation was no matter how powerful and all seeing the government was. Atwood writes very well and she sinks into the skin of Offred, bringing an extremely emotional touch to her interior monologues and feelings towards the environment around her but I don't know why she would in good conscience make the history in the novel so impossible to accept. There is fantasy and their is realistic fiction and she is trying to combine the two that result in something that is not fantastic and not realistic. By looking at the world today, even if a total national breakdown occurred, people would instinctively fight an authoritative take over no matter what they were promising. Its like keeping all the technology but turning back the clock on every social advancement in America 200 years. It just seems that this society comes too close to a parallel of of the movies "Death Race 2000" or "Rollerball". Another strange occurrence in this society is all the temptations Offred encounters as a part to keep the people in check. Times when Nick the Guardian tries to talk to her or touch her and when the doctor offers to sleep with her in so she can have a baby. From what I see, only women are tempted to break the law and in a somewhat paradoxical fashion, they must disobey the men who offer so they can be subservient to them and the government which took away the women's rights in the first place. Again I have to ask how can this society exist even in a literary universe when people are given chances to rebel against one small part of authority and by doing that, conform to the larger part of the authority? And by writing it this way, Atwood has taken away part of the indescribable thing that gets readers to forget they are reading. As I was reading, I kept thinking of how this future was less likely to happen in 20th century America than David Carradine racing across the country in a weapon loaded Chevrolet Corvette in order to kill the President. However, I am interested in seeing where Offred ends up within this society whether or not its realistic.
Friday, February 13, 2009
The handmaid's conversation
While working on some of the study questions, the question that really intrigued me was the question about discussing the shifts in vocabulary that help fortify power in Gilead.
The more I looked into this question, the more I realized the handmaids all have an "acceptable" way to speak to each other, which ultimately proves the power of the government. There is not a lot these women can say to each other, and they must be careful saying anything of real meaning, which is a shame, but a main idea of the power struggle in the novel.
(Chapter 4 - Page 19)
“Blessed be the fruit,” she says to me, the accepted greeting among us.
“May the Lord open,” I answer, the accepted response.
…….
“The war is going well, I hear,” she says.
“Praise be,” I reply.
“We’ve been sent good weather.”
“Which I receive with joy.”
This conversation is not a way most people would talk to each other. The government controlling Gilead is highly totalitarian and slightly theocratic. Women are suppressed in many ways, but the ultimate idea of freedom of speech, something we all definitely take for granted, is completely gone.
It's also interesting to see how Offred also uses conversation as a way to rebel against the government. Even if it is telling stories to herself, making up the endings as she goes along, she still has the opportunity to control something. Offred is obedient on the outside. She does what she's told. Inside, however, she has every intention of controlling herself and her life.
Offred has an internal and external conversation with herself and others, and they play opposite roles, which is an intriguing way of showing rebellion and obedience at the same time. She knows what she has to do to survive, but she also knows she needs to get out of Gilead at the same time.
The more I looked into this question, the more I realized the handmaids all have an "acceptable" way to speak to each other, which ultimately proves the power of the government. There is not a lot these women can say to each other, and they must be careful saying anything of real meaning, which is a shame, but a main idea of the power struggle in the novel.
(Chapter 4 - Page 19)
“Blessed be the fruit,” she says to me, the accepted greeting among us.
“May the Lord open,” I answer, the accepted response.
…….
“The war is going well, I hear,” she says.
“Praise be,” I reply.
“We’ve been sent good weather.”
“Which I receive with joy.”
This conversation is not a way most people would talk to each other. The government controlling Gilead is highly totalitarian and slightly theocratic. Women are suppressed in many ways, but the ultimate idea of freedom of speech, something we all definitely take for granted, is completely gone.
It's also interesting to see how Offred also uses conversation as a way to rebel against the government. Even if it is telling stories to herself, making up the endings as she goes along, she still has the opportunity to control something. Offred is obedient on the outside. She does what she's told. Inside, however, she has every intention of controlling herself and her life.
Offred has an internal and external conversation with herself and others, and they play opposite roles, which is an intriguing way of showing rebellion and obedience at the same time. She knows what she has to do to survive, but she also knows she needs to get out of Gilead at the same time.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
The Bell Jar
I find it interesting that Plath uses a bell jar to symbolize being trapped by insanity. For even in Belsize "Those girls, too, sat under bell jars of a sort." So although she sees the covering by a bell jar as something that traps one I believe she also feels somewhat free for she does say just a page before this: "To a person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is a bad dream." Through this thought one can believe that Esther could have been trapping herself in so that she may not have to deal with all that is bad about the world. At the same time however, another passage makes it seem as if she is not in control of her actions. "But I wasn't sure. I wasn't sure at all. How did I know that someday... the bell jar, with its stifling distortions, wouldn't descend again? Through this she Plath exposes to the reader that Esther does not in fact feel she is in control of everything she does. I cannot find many places paralleling this thought. I do wonder, however, how exactly this Bell Jar distorts reality. How does Esther's mind blur what is real?
As if Plath wasn't sure the reader would pick up on the birth/rebirth theme during her attempted suicide through sleeping pills under the house she made it very clear at the end of the book that a rebirth was in fact what Esther was undergoing. "There ought, I thought, to be a ritual for being born twice - patched, retreaded and approved for the road..." Esther in fact does undergo her own little rebirth ritual and this is where the book ends, this is where she steps into the office to regain full control of her life.
----Aaron Abel
As if Plath wasn't sure the reader would pick up on the birth/rebirth theme during her attempted suicide through sleeping pills under the house she made it very clear at the end of the book that a rebirth was in fact what Esther was undergoing. "There ought, I thought, to be a ritual for being born twice - patched, retreaded and approved for the road..." Esther in fact does undergo her own little rebirth ritual and this is where the book ends, this is where she steps into the office to regain full control of her life.
----Aaron Abel
Monday, February 9, 2009
The Insanity of Venus and Mars
In reading the final chapters of The Bell Jar could not help but compare Plath’s criticism of the mental health industry with another novel that has its own critique of the mental health industry by Ken Kesey called One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest. Both novelists speak on the subject with credibility, as we all know Plath was a psychiatric patient and Kesey worked the night shifts in the psychiatric ward of a veteran’s hospital. Most of the similarities are found when Esther goes to the first mental hospital under the care of Dr. Gordon. Kesey’s Nurse Ratched and Plath’s Dr. Gordon serve as representative models of health employees who are insensitive and authoritarian. Even more interesting than this is the theme of gender that plays in the comparison of these two characters. Chief Bromden, the male narrator in the Cuckoo’s Nest, often tends to describe the insanity of the male patients as a matter of emasculation at the hands of overpowering women such as Nurse Ratched, the head nurse of their ward. Plath writes a very similar plot structure with a vice versa of gender in regards to Dr. Gordon. Joan and Esther both tend to describe the general insensitivity of male psychiatrists. The reason both narrators dislike these health employees is because these employees represent the external factors in these narrators’ environments that drove them to insanity in the first place. Esther doesn’t like Dr. Gordon because as a man he could never understand Esther’s female identity crisis and his insensitivity reminds her of the misunderstood, distrustful, and violent relationships she’s had with men before. In Kesey’s novel many oof the patients have warped sexual identities because of past relationships with women. Taking in the role of gender and mental health institutions, I think it is plausible to say that both Plath and Kesey would have strong feelings that mental health patients are better treated when being helped by people of their own gender.
"Sylvia"
I will be presenting the movie Sylvia tomorrow in class, and I'll use this opportunity to organize my thoughts on the movie. The film tracks the life of Sylvia Plath from her days in college, through her marriage and separation with Ted Hughes, up until her suicide. The film focuses mostly on the relationship between Ted and herself, with all of her writing being, seemingly, a response to Hughes' infidelity.
I read some online reviews about the film. Most of the reviews described some sort of issue involving the absence of some aspect in the life of Sylvia Plath that the film did not touch upon, the writing processes of the two writers, the failure to portray Plath's relationship with her children, and so on. Every review that I encountered praised Gwyneth Paltrow for her performance and emotional depth. (An interesting note is that Paltrow's father had died very recently during the time that film began shooting, so the emotional anguish and grieving is thought to be directly inspired by her personal emotional turmoil at the time.)
The most compelling review that I read discussed the portrayal of the Ted and Sylvia's marriage and relationship. The criticism was that in the end, without having done any previous research on the life of Plath, the screenplay and film both lead the audience towards viewing Ted Hughes as the "injured party." Hughes' womanizing and infidelities are viewed as outlets that he was driven to as a result of Plath's jealous obsessions. With the movie focusing solely on their relationship, Daniel Craig's (Ted Hughes) portrayal robs the complexity of the high-strung and competitive relationship that the two shared biographically.
Conclusion of The Bell Jar
The Bell Jar was a very different narrative than anything I have ever read, but there are a lot of similarities in certain themes that make the read very relate-able. It makes sense to me to relate Esther to Supercargo in Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man. Both characters are undoubtedly crazy and what makes their crazy more profound is the realization that they know, in some aspects that they are crazy. (Of course the reason for their “crazy” is the result of different influences within their worlds.) Esther denounces the institution of the “feminine role”; of being a mother and wife and not having the freedoms of a man, with his opportunities for freedom outside of the home. The bell jar equals this institution; the bell jar is the life of a homemaker. It is always present, hovering over her prepared to drop at any moment to capture her in its grasp.
This connection of the bell jar and her role in society is proven through the evidence of Esther’s relationship with men throughout the novel. She portrays just about every man she comes in contact with as very “1-dimensional” beings. They have no true concern for Esther or her problem. She does not want to fit into the expectations of others on how her life should be conducted. She even has issues with women that are involved in the stereotypical roles of women of that time. She has problems with connecting to her mother, she cannot relate to Dodo Conway and, though Joan is portrayed as being a lesbian, she cannot find herself to appreciate Joan’s “girly ways”. Though her defiance is profound, she is not a very intense or peculiar character. The only thing that Esther has going for her is the fact that she is crazy. And it’s really sad that the only way a woman can have the power to be independent from her surroundings and environment is for her to be crazy.
This connection of the bell jar and her role in society is proven through the evidence of Esther’s relationship with men throughout the novel. She portrays just about every man she comes in contact with as very “1-dimensional” beings. They have no true concern for Esther or her problem. She does not want to fit into the expectations of others on how her life should be conducted. She even has issues with women that are involved in the stereotypical roles of women of that time. She has problems with connecting to her mother, she cannot relate to Dodo Conway and, though Joan is portrayed as being a lesbian, she cannot find herself to appreciate Joan’s “girly ways”. Though her defiance is profound, she is not a very intense or peculiar character. The only thing that Esther has going for her is the fact that she is crazy. And it’s really sad that the only way a woman can have the power to be independent from her surroundings and environment is for her to be crazy.
WHEN THINGS GO WRONG DEAL WITH THEM DON’T CRY ABOVE THEM
I believe Esther is crazy and undeserving of sympathy. The more closely I read her words and the way she describes herself and the world around her, the more I began to realize she is trapped inside herself—a slave to her skin and her thoughts. And at times I just want to end it for her. She is very annoying yet relieving. What is meant by this is she always talks about it yet never does it. If this crazy woman ever realized that she is just having insecurities and simple problems with the world around her then she would be set free. She never stops though—on and on and on and on she goes.
Additionally, I believe most of her problem is that she is a male-hater or at least she views men as one dimensional. She appears to have a problem with attractive men; never trusting them yet always wanting and pondering what they are really up to—when in fact nothing is going on. She hates her doctor, Buddy, her father (she did not know him and does not understand him therefore he may be lumped in this category as well), Cal. But none of these men truly did anything to her, she just seems too stuck on the “social” image of herself and how these men view “her” social image. She builds lies for her doctor in order to keep the attractive man wondering. She appears to want to live up to some expectation that not even superman could fill. She drives me crazy—always self-aware, self-conscious of everything, hates herself because she doesn’t live up to her writing standard.
WHEN THINGS GO WRONG DEAL WITH THEM DON’T CRY ABOVE THEM—Esther needs to learn that one simple fact. When things don’t go the ways you want them too just get over it—but there would not be a novel without her insecurities and thought process. Therefore, my frustration with my thought process is only a result of good writing.
Additionally, I believe most of her problem is that she is a male-hater or at least she views men as one dimensional. She appears to have a problem with attractive men; never trusting them yet always wanting and pondering what they are really up to—when in fact nothing is going on. She hates her doctor, Buddy, her father (she did not know him and does not understand him therefore he may be lumped in this category as well), Cal. But none of these men truly did anything to her, she just seems too stuck on the “social” image of herself and how these men view “her” social image. She builds lies for her doctor in order to keep the attractive man wondering. She appears to want to live up to some expectation that not even superman could fill. She drives me crazy—always self-aware, self-conscious of everything, hates herself because she doesn’t live up to her writing standard.
WHEN THINGS GO WRONG DEAL WITH THEM DON’T CRY ABOVE THEM—Esther needs to learn that one simple fact. When things don’t go the ways you want them too just get over it—but there would not be a novel without her insecurities and thought process. Therefore, my frustration with my thought process is only a result of good writing.
The Whole Megillah
We talked about the obvious biblical reference in A Jest of G-d with Rachel's name, but as far as I can tell and remember, no one has yet discussed the biblical significance of Esther's name. Esther was chosen to be the wife of the king of Persia after entering a beauty contest. When she was chosen, the king did not know she was Jewish. She hid this rather essential element of her identity out of fear, because the chief advisor to the king had convinced the king to allow him to kill all the Jewish people in Persia. When she finally does tell the king the truth, she is able to persuade him to allow the Jewish people to defend themselves against their would-be killers because, due to a legal technicality, the king cannot reverse his original decision. How does the story of the queen who saved her people and herself relate to Plath's Esther?
Our Esther, the one who narrates The Bell Jar, also hides some essential element of her being. She hides - or tries to hide - her differences from the people who are around her. She wants to be like everyone else because it looks a lot easier than being true to who she is: a deeply conflicted and highly emotional woman. Being herself means facing the truths that she does not want to face. Does she ever have the moment of revelation that lies at the conclusion of the biblical story? Not really. Her priorities are never so external as to push her into giving up her secret to save anyone else. The book ends right before the vital “confrontation” – readers are left wondering what happens to Esther. Does she triumph over her inner demons as Esther defeats evil Haman? While the book doesn’t say, perhaps we can look to Plath’s own life for the answer. The battle may have been won for Esther but Sylvia lost the war with her non-fictional demons.
Our Esther, the one who narrates The Bell Jar, also hides some essential element of her being. She hides - or tries to hide - her differences from the people who are around her. She wants to be like everyone else because it looks a lot easier than being true to who she is: a deeply conflicted and highly emotional woman. Being herself means facing the truths that she does not want to face. Does she ever have the moment of revelation that lies at the conclusion of the biblical story? Not really. Her priorities are never so external as to push her into giving up her secret to save anyone else. The book ends right before the vital “confrontation” – readers are left wondering what happens to Esther. Does she triumph over her inner demons as Esther defeats evil Haman? While the book doesn’t say, perhaps we can look to Plath’s own life for the answer. The battle may have been won for Esther but Sylvia lost the war with her non-fictional demons.
Until our last class discussion, I had no doubt that Esther was crazy and annoying. However, after thinking about it a bit and discussing the meaning of the bell jar I have begun to not only sympathize with her but understand her. At first, I thought that Esther was the one trapped in the bell jar. However, when I try and get into her mind, I find myself agreeing with an earlier post that viewed society as the one that is trapped. I would agree that Rachel could be seen as trapped, however Esther doesn’t restrict herself from progressing like Rachel did in her own thoughts. Instead, her problem lies in the realization and exaggeration of societal “norms”. Therefore, I think that Plath means for society to be exploited as this overpowering superficial force that has the ability to destroy someone as it does her. There are many instances in the book in which the reader feels the external forces Esther faces all attempting to “fix” her. Esther continually refuses this shift into “normality” especially in the psych ward. She plays with people and even tries to make them think she is more sick than she really is. This is why I see society as being trapped in this bell jar. Society is trapped into refusing difference and only accepting more of the same. I believe Esther becoming crazy symbolizes her frustration with society as she attempts to scream at it. Maybe Plath’s eventual suicide is a result of her feeling like it never heard that scream.
Esther's Social Disconnect
I found it interesting in our last discussion in class that the idea of men being one-dimensional characters came up. I have always heard the Bell Jar referred to as a feminist novel, but I didn’t see indication of the in the text until our discussion. And although the two doctors at the end of the novel that help Esther are male, I find it notable that the only multi-dimensional main characters that Esther is tied to on an emotional level are all women. I think this is the author's conscious commentary on the typical detached connection that women share with men. Then again, that type of connection could also just be a result of our main character’s own lacking of social ability.
The relationship between Esther and her brother seems to be virtually non-existent, but the relationship that Esther shares with her mother is also unhealthily distant. I find myself wondering Esther’s lack of real connections to others can be considered the driving force for her depression and suicide attempts. It seems very plausible that someone who seemed to be successful and in control on the outside (Esther as we saw her early in the novel), but with weak connections to others, would have a fascination with death and removing oneself from the world, as Esther does. Esther's fascination with those sort of things is very odd, but upon examining the connections she shares with others, it seems that it would be surprising if she was even able to lead a healthy life.
The relationship between Esther and her brother seems to be virtually non-existent, but the relationship that Esther shares with her mother is also unhealthily distant. I find myself wondering Esther’s lack of real connections to others can be considered the driving force for her depression and suicide attempts. It seems very plausible that someone who seemed to be successful and in control on the outside (Esther as we saw her early in the novel), but with weak connections to others, would have a fascination with death and removing oneself from the world, as Esther does. Esther's fascination with those sort of things is very odd, but upon examining the connections she shares with others, it seems that it would be surprising if she was even able to lead a healthy life.
In Defense of Esther Greenwood
While reading others' blogs I've seen quite a few epithets tossed around to describe Esther; crazy, callous, indifferent and self- centered all come to mind. I think that, while certainly Esther is a peculiar girl and without denying that her mental illness was in fact real, a little too much has been made of her condition without first considering the circumstances and context of the novel. Both internal and external factors need to be taken into account and, as some have pointed out, the lion's share of the blame cannot be put squarely on Esther. The prevailing attitude about Esther seems to be one of negativity; I believe Plath would have wished for us to view Esther with a bit more sympathy, especially since she is in large part writing about herself.
First I'd like to address the insinuation that Esther is in fact callous. I believe a more accurate description of her condition might be one of indifference. Esther certainly has trouble relating to others at times, and there are certainly instances where her response to the concerns and troubles of others was very inappropriate. The encounter with Doreen where she is vomiting in the hotel hallway and Esther decides to shut her out, contrasted with Doreen's care of Esther during the food poisoning, comes to mind. This much is undeniable. I can't help but question, however, how much more callous her behavior is than many of the other characters are in the novel. Compare for instance the reactions to the Rosenberg affair by Esther and then by Betty, who is supposedly an amiable and innocent character. Esther's reaction, while certainly morbidly curious and decidedly indifferent, is no worse than Betsy's-- she professes that she hopes the Rosenbergs burn in hell, or something to that effect.
Certainly there are also external forces that weigh heavily on Esther; despite her personal shortcomings she is still a remarkably talented girl. Despite this fact her options in life are apparently limited, both by her condition and by her gender. The response of other characters to her illness is particularly telling; Mrs. Greenwood and (to a lesser extent) Mr. Willard, seem to believe that any kind of illness is a shortcoming of the will. No more obvious is this than in Mrs. Greenwood telling Esther: "I knew my baby wasn't like that." Dr. Gordon, a professional psychiatrist who is supposed to be helping Esther, likewise seems to regard her with indifference or even disdain, and then forces the electroshock treatment (which in itself is a highly controversial practice) upon her. At no point does he ever truly listen to Esther or try to address her condition, he just treats her as just another crazy.
Part of this might have to do with her status as a woman; despite her talents she is expected to conform and behave in a manner consistent with other girls her age. She is expected to be perky, upbeat, docile-- character traits that are consistent with becoming a housewife. In a lot of ways those around her view this as her best prospect-- Buddy Willard certainly seems to think she's his de-facto fiance-- short of becoming a secretary; nobody except for maybe the editor Jay Cee ever stops to acknowledge her talents. At no point is the power imbalance between men and women expemplified than in her encounter with Marco, the womanizer, who treats her as a "slut", just as he views all girls to be. The brutality with which he treats her is arguably the event that leads to her "cracking", which brings me to my next point.
Is Esther Greenwood truly crazy? Certainly she goes from being simply quirky to completely non- functional at some point in the novel; her mental condition is very real, but what is the nature of it? Based on causes and symptoms, Esther's condition seems consistent with a very deep depression, or perhaps a nervous breakdown, as a result of high stress, disappointment and traumatic events (the attempted rape comes to mind). Certainly this wouldn't qualify as "crazy" in our contemporary society; the way she is handled by those around her is as much a function of the times as they are of any of her shortcomings.
At the novel's conclusion, much of Esther's condition seems to have been cured, or at least temporarily alleviated. In particular her views on sex and death prove quite pertinent to the improvement in her disposition; she has her first consensual, liberating sexual experience, which helps to relieve the pressure and hangups imposed upon her by society, and witnesses the death of somebody close to her, which normalizes her to the experience and allows her to empathize to an extent. This raises questions as to the efficacy of her institutionalization, and relates back to my train of thought-- is Esther Greenwood really all that crazy, or for that matter any crazier than the society around her?
First I'd like to address the insinuation that Esther is in fact callous. I believe a more accurate description of her condition might be one of indifference. Esther certainly has trouble relating to others at times, and there are certainly instances where her response to the concerns and troubles of others was very inappropriate. The encounter with Doreen where she is vomiting in the hotel hallway and Esther decides to shut her out, contrasted with Doreen's care of Esther during the food poisoning, comes to mind. This much is undeniable. I can't help but question, however, how much more callous her behavior is than many of the other characters are in the novel. Compare for instance the reactions to the Rosenberg affair by Esther and then by Betty, who is supposedly an amiable and innocent character. Esther's reaction, while certainly morbidly curious and decidedly indifferent, is no worse than Betsy's-- she professes that she hopes the Rosenbergs burn in hell, or something to that effect.
Certainly there are also external forces that weigh heavily on Esther; despite her personal shortcomings she is still a remarkably talented girl. Despite this fact her options in life are apparently limited, both by her condition and by her gender. The response of other characters to her illness is particularly telling; Mrs. Greenwood and (to a lesser extent) Mr. Willard, seem to believe that any kind of illness is a shortcoming of the will. No more obvious is this than in Mrs. Greenwood telling Esther: "I knew my baby wasn't like that." Dr. Gordon, a professional psychiatrist who is supposed to be helping Esther, likewise seems to regard her with indifference or even disdain, and then forces the electroshock treatment (which in itself is a highly controversial practice) upon her. At no point does he ever truly listen to Esther or try to address her condition, he just treats her as just another crazy.
Part of this might have to do with her status as a woman; despite her talents she is expected to conform and behave in a manner consistent with other girls her age. She is expected to be perky, upbeat, docile-- character traits that are consistent with becoming a housewife. In a lot of ways those around her view this as her best prospect-- Buddy Willard certainly seems to think she's his de-facto fiance-- short of becoming a secretary; nobody except for maybe the editor Jay Cee ever stops to acknowledge her talents. At no point is the power imbalance between men and women expemplified than in her encounter with Marco, the womanizer, who treats her as a "slut", just as he views all girls to be. The brutality with which he treats her is arguably the event that leads to her "cracking", which brings me to my next point.
Is Esther Greenwood truly crazy? Certainly she goes from being simply quirky to completely non- functional at some point in the novel; her mental condition is very real, but what is the nature of it? Based on causes and symptoms, Esther's condition seems consistent with a very deep depression, or perhaps a nervous breakdown, as a result of high stress, disappointment and traumatic events (the attempted rape comes to mind). Certainly this wouldn't qualify as "crazy" in our contemporary society; the way she is handled by those around her is as much a function of the times as they are of any of her shortcomings.
At the novel's conclusion, much of Esther's condition seems to have been cured, or at least temporarily alleviated. In particular her views on sex and death prove quite pertinent to the improvement in her disposition; she has her first consensual, liberating sexual experience, which helps to relieve the pressure and hangups imposed upon her by society, and witnesses the death of somebody close to her, which normalizes her to the experience and allows her to empathize to an extent. This raises questions as to the efficacy of her institutionalization, and relates back to my train of thought-- is Esther Greenwood really all that crazy, or for that matter any crazier than the society around her?
Suicide and Redemption
In “Lady Lazarus” Plath invokes the Phoenix when talking about her once-a-decade death, suggesting that her suicidal gestures were not designed to end her life but rather to be viewed as a sort of resurrection event. She also describes dying as an art form, one that she does “exceptionally well.” One would think that to die exceptionally well would suggest a more permanent demise than whatever she could have achieved, as she is necessarily living to write this poem.
But the voice in this poem (and I don’t think it’s too much of a risk to call it Plath’s voice, further than committing a critical faux pas), like Esther, doesn’t view killing herself in a conventional sense. It seems clear that she is suggesting that her “deaths” are not necessarily orthodox. Moreover, she invokes the biblical story of Lazarus, who died and miraculously was resurrected. I wonder if Esther’s suicidal musings are also cast in some kind of resurrecting light, if Esther looks at suicide not as final death but as a revivifying episode in a continuing life. Maybe she looks at it as a liberating act, an escape from her failures in the social life at Smith College and in New York and her rejection from the summer writing course. Other blog entries allude to this idea that she is seeking escape, and Lisa pointed out that Esther constantly thinks about killing herself, but never gives much thought to the idea of being dead. She dwells upon the failures of her brief life, and maybe she thinks of suicide as the ultimate reset button. She obviously is not thinking rationally, but by the time she throws all her clothes off the roof of her hotel it seems clear that her capacity for rationality is significantly diminished.
It was also suggested on here that Esther seeks attention with her attempted suicide, as is often the case with suicidal gestures. In light that the novel parallels Plath’s life so closely, I like to think that the idea of “Lady Lazarus” exists somewhere in Esther’s mind, and that Esther’s motivation in her suicidal thoughts and actions can be informed by the poem. So, I’m inclined to disagree with the idea that Esther is seeking attention, but rather think that she somehow believes—although perhaps not consciously—that suicide may be a redeeming course of action for her past failures.
But the voice in this poem (and I don’t think it’s too much of a risk to call it Plath’s voice, further than committing a critical faux pas), like Esther, doesn’t view killing herself in a conventional sense. It seems clear that she is suggesting that her “deaths” are not necessarily orthodox. Moreover, she invokes the biblical story of Lazarus, who died and miraculously was resurrected. I wonder if Esther’s suicidal musings are also cast in some kind of resurrecting light, if Esther looks at suicide not as final death but as a revivifying episode in a continuing life. Maybe she looks at it as a liberating act, an escape from her failures in the social life at Smith College and in New York and her rejection from the summer writing course. Other blog entries allude to this idea that she is seeking escape, and Lisa pointed out that Esther constantly thinks about killing herself, but never gives much thought to the idea of being dead. She dwells upon the failures of her brief life, and maybe she thinks of suicide as the ultimate reset button. She obviously is not thinking rationally, but by the time she throws all her clothes off the roof of her hotel it seems clear that her capacity for rationality is significantly diminished.
It was also suggested on here that Esther seeks attention with her attempted suicide, as is often the case with suicidal gestures. In light that the novel parallels Plath’s life so closely, I like to think that the idea of “Lady Lazarus” exists somewhere in Esther’s mind, and that Esther’s motivation in her suicidal thoughts and actions can be informed by the poem. So, I’m inclined to disagree with the idea that Esther is seeking attention, but rather think that she somehow believes—although perhaps not consciously—that suicide may be a redeeming course of action for her past failures.
Independence is the Key
In the post that Lisa posted about how Esther is an independent woman made me think. The point that Lisa makes is very true. Plath makes a very clear point of making sure that Esther is not surrounded by men and not obsessing over them either. Although men are present in The Bell Jar they do not take over the story as in A Jest of God where Rachel spends most her time obsessing over Nick and what is happening between the two of them.
Esther is aware of the fact that Buddy wants her to be his. Although she did spend some time of her life wanting him the way he wants her, that has past and is only present in the story when she looks back on those days before she realized what a hypocrite he really was. She never looks at men in a way that they may complete her as a woman but more in a way that they are trying to be completed by a woman. She makes it clear that she does not want to have children and does not want to get married.
In the end, a man is not important to her.
An interesting start...
After reading the first few chapters of The Handmaid's Tale, I have to admit that I was a little confused. Obviously this is the story of a particular place, which i am unable to identify. The first chapter made Offred, the narrator, seem like a sort of prisoner. Especially during the portion of the novel when the women walk in the field, which is surrounded by a chain-link, barbed wired fence. The "Angels" refuse to turn their faces to the women as they walk. This seems like some sort of punishment for these women. I was constantly worrying what they had done wrong to be in this place and whether or not they were permitted to leave at some point.
As I continued reading, I was very curious about the names given to the different classes of the women: "Handmaids", "Marthas," and "Wives." Their dress and activities were described in detail, but I am most interested to find out where these names came from. Is the novel set in some historical setting that I am unaware of? I think I need to find some contextual evidence so I am able to better connect with this story. The absurdity of classifying women (and men--"Angels") and essentially trapping them in these positions seems science fiction-like to me. I do not know much about the author so this information might help me too. I have enjoyed reading so far, but the confusion has stopped me at least for today. I am interested to hear other students' impressions of it as well.
As I continued reading, I was very curious about the names given to the different classes of the women: "Handmaids", "Marthas," and "Wives." Their dress and activities were described in detail, but I am most interested to find out where these names came from. Is the novel set in some historical setting that I am unaware of? I think I need to find some contextual evidence so I am able to better connect with this story. The absurdity of classifying women (and men--"Angels") and essentially trapping them in these positions seems science fiction-like to me. I do not know much about the author so this information might help me too. I have enjoyed reading so far, but the confusion has stopped me at least for today. I am interested to hear other students' impressions of it as well.
My Personal Experience
Initially, I didn't want to bring this up. I thought it might come off as pity-fishing or as an exploitation of an opportunity to share "my struggle." But there should be no shame in sharing my personal experience, especially when it so appropriately pertains to our discussion. Hopefully this all isn't too uncomfortably personal:
I have been diagnosed with bipolar disorder. I've had numerous bouts of severe depression, sometimes with suicidal behavior. I have been hospitalized twice for mental illness, and on the second occasion I was treated with electroconvulsive therapy, also known as ECT or shock therapy. Quite a bit of what Esther went through, I went through.
The reason I mention this is because I was noticing a little chatter about "empathy" and the likability of Esther on this blog. For personal reasons, I suppose I may be one of the few who relates to Esther. It's hard to say I like Esther--I don't think anyone should--but I do have an emotional attachment to her, similar to the kind of attachment you'd have to Heath Ledger: he must be derided for the decisions he made, but you feel like he was a better person than that.
As someone who has shared similar experiences with Esther (or really, Plath), it becomes necessary to separate the mentally ill Esther from the mentally healthy Esther, both for us and for Esther. Plath talked about writing a book after The Bell Jar which featured another pseudo-Plath, except instead of portraying a narrative through the lens of a distorted reality, it would be through an older, wiser lens of mental stability. Unfortunately (and with tragic irony), she killed herself before she wrote that second novel. I wish that book had been written, because I believe having the chance to see the two dimensions of a character like Esther would be invaluable to our understanding of her--and of mental illness, also.
Of course it's common sense to say that someone who is in a state of mental illness isn't behaving the way he/she normally would, but I think that simple idea can easily be forgotten when you read The Bell Jar. It's a credit to Plath that she's able to portray the insular logic of a depressed person so convincingly that we forget this is a character who is essentially sick. If you read this book and thought to yourself, "God, I can't stand Esther," then give yourself a pat on the back for being in acceptable mental health. If you read Esther's narrative and thought, "She's saying what I'm thinking!" then you might want to check your immediate vicinity for that bell jar covering your head.
I suppose I would just like to suggest that maybe the "bell jar" enclosing Esther should be given more weight as the main source of your distaste of Esther, much more so than Esther herself.
Attention to detail
I’ve had some difficulty in figuring out the exact setting of the story from what I’ve read so far. The narrator has quite jumpy thoughts and I think the flashback conversations are somewhat hard to follow without a second reading. One thing I have really noticed is the vivid images that are being formed in my head from all the super detailed descriptions she gives us of her surroundings. At first her attention to detail made me think she was longing for something more in her life, or maybe even something she had once is a previous time in her life. It was as if the descriptions she was providing to the audience were familiar to her in some way. The first glimpse of a prior life we read about is on page 16 when the narrator recalls watching television in her mother’s room on Sunday mornings realizing that is where she has seen the commander’s wife. The connection provides some background information on knowing more about a “boss” (I’m not really sure what to call the commander’s wife yet.) than needs to be or should be known. It seems that already knowing about Serena Joy’s religious show is a bad thing and may make it difficult for the narrator to serve her properly.
Another thing that caught me about the descriptions the narrator gives was how many different colors have been brought up. She makes a couple of references to the red being similar to the shade of blood. The color red is symbolic of many things ranging from lust, love, and sex to suffering, hurting, and dying. Again, the attention to detail is interesting and makes me think there is some part of the narrator’s life that television, color, and perhaps religion were a significant part of her life.
Another thing that caught me about the descriptions the narrator gives was how many different colors have been brought up. She makes a couple of references to the red being similar to the shade of blood. The color red is symbolic of many things ranging from lust, love, and sex to suffering, hurting, and dying. Again, the attention to detail is interesting and makes me think there is some part of the narrator’s life that television, color, and perhaps religion were a significant part of her life.
In 1347, was the Plague Called the Black Death?
Josh's post regarding the role society plays in Esther's so called "problems" sparked my curiosity. While I do think the "era" in which one lives plays a role in what is considered normal and how those who are abnormal are dealt with, I also believe we must be careful before we scoff at the beliefs, practices, and even perceived stereotypes of those in previous generations.
It seems to me that many of Esther's problems stem from her hesitance to fit in to what we would define as a stereotypical role in her society. What we see as a stereotype now, in hindsight, however, may not have been a stereotype in Esther's frame of existence. Something analogous to what I'm attempting to illustrate might be a peasant or commoner in medieval Europe. While we may see this person as someone oppressed by nobility, he or she may not even realize the subjection he or she is in. Thus, we anachronistically insert hostility into the relationship between peasant and landowner based on a stereotype we have produced in our current time.
I suppose my point is that we should take prudence in determining whether Esther's society is the root of her issues or whether something else is to blame. I would argue that it is somewhat of a combination of lack of options (in career choice, lifestyle, etc.) Esther is presented with and societal pressure that create her suicidal tendencies. Also, regardless of societal pressure, I believe Esther exhibits some problems with adjustment and motivation which would be present regardless of her societal environment.
It seems to me that many of Esther's problems stem from her hesitance to fit in to what we would define as a stereotypical role in her society. What we see as a stereotype now, in hindsight, however, may not have been a stereotype in Esther's frame of existence. Something analogous to what I'm attempting to illustrate might be a peasant or commoner in medieval Europe. While we may see this person as someone oppressed by nobility, he or she may not even realize the subjection he or she is in. Thus, we anachronistically insert hostility into the relationship between peasant and landowner based on a stereotype we have produced in our current time.
I suppose my point is that we should take prudence in determining whether Esther's society is the root of her issues or whether something else is to blame. I would argue that it is somewhat of a combination of lack of options (in career choice, lifestyle, etc.) Esther is presented with and societal pressure that create her suicidal tendencies. Also, regardless of societal pressure, I believe Esther exhibits some problems with adjustment and motivation which would be present regardless of her societal environment.
Independent Women
Compared to The Jest of God and Handmaid’s Tale, The Bell Jar seems to be the only book we’ve read so far that doesn’t have the main character (who is a woman) being smothered by men so to speak. Offred is obviously controlled men in the society she lives in. And while Offred’s case may be easier to see, Rachel also seems to be dominated by men. She constantly obsesses over Nick and what she has done wrong or what she should have done around him. For a time she seems to be living for Nick. Esther has the opportunity to have that same kind of relationship with Buddy but she chooses not too. It is true that when she first knew Buddy she obsessed over liking him, but she never really lets Buddy ‘use’ her like Offred and Rachel. So even though Esther seems like the ‘craziest’ one, she is also the most independent. Plath could have had Esther dominated by the male physiatrist in the novel, but she chooses to get rid of him and have a woman in charge of Esther. I think it’s interesting that Joan and Calla also refuse to be controlled by men and have thus turned to being lesbians. I think Esther’s independence is why Joan admires Esther so much in the novel and thus chooses to try to emulate Esther the best she can. It is also interesting how men are presented, as other people have noticed, in one dimensional form. Except for The Bell Jar (and even that is a bit of a stretch) all the men in these novels seem to be very flat characters. They all paint a picture of a selfish and dim man who is usually in the way of the protagonist (always a woman in these novels).
Men, so far
We started touching on this in class on Thursday, but I wanted to go a little deeper into the depiction of men in the two novels we have read so far and the beginning of The Handmaiden's Tale. I would have to agree that in The Bell Jar, and even in The Jest of God, men are portrayed as very one-dimensional characters. Both novels are told from the perspective of a woman, so perhaps a lack of understanding of the other gender is understandable, yet it is starting to bother me how most men are portrayed so far.
The Jest of God provides three marvelous shining examples of men with Rachel's father, Hector, and Nick. Hector is very predictable and is not a very layered character at all. What you see is what you get with Hector. Rachel's father hardly played a role in the book at all. Nick never wanted to have a relationship with Rachel, he only desired a temporary physical relationship.
The Bell Jar also provides one-dimensional men. Buddy of course is not a very deep character either. He is extremely conventional and is everything Esther doesn't really want from society. The Peruvian dude, Marco, doesn't help the overall appearance of men in the novel either with his violence and beliefs of women. Even Irwin is presented as a someone who is not particularly that special by his lack of caring and responsibility.
All these men are particularly founded in their beliefs and don't have a lot of depth to their characters. Both novels are written by women and are written from the perspective of women. By no means am I trying to argue that both of these women hate men or are trying to make a statement about feminine superiority. I just hope The Handmaiden's Tale doesn't take us down this road even further. Let's pull it together here, fellas.
Freedom
I was considering an interesting resemblance between Doreen and Joan and their relationship with Esther. Obviously the two characters mean something very different to Esther, but there are two moments in which she turns a mental switch and disconnects herself from each of these women that are very intriguing. The first occurs after visiting Lenny’s apartment with Doreen. The second takes place after Joan does not return to Belsize.
Of course, everyone remembers Doreen with the woman who ironed the girls’ clothes, drunk at Esther’s door calling for Elly. What I think is interesting here is that it really seems to be the hotel employee that embarrasses Esther. Not only because Doreen is drunk at Esther’s door, but also the woman seems to think that it is best to have Doreen be with Esther than take her back to her own room. Esther becomes very self-conscious about this, as if this has some implications on how great their friendship is. Furthermore, the persona this woman from down the hall takes on resides in Esther, “I wanted to run after her and tell her I had nothing to do with Doreen, because she looked stern and hardworking and moral as an old-style European immigrant and reminded me of my Austrian grandmother” (The Bell Jar 24). It is almost like Doreen is corrupting an image that Esther has of herself.
I feel like something similar takes place with Joan. Joan leaves Belsize to watch a movie, but she doesn’t return even after the last bus has passed. Dr. Quinn comes to Esther to ask if she knows where Joan would go. Esther’s reaction here is very similar to her reaction to Doreen: “Suddenly I wanted to dissociate myself from Joan completely” (219). Yet again, there is a figure of authority present, and her connection with someone makes her ashamed. I feel here, especially so, Esther sees Joan as standing in the way of her freedom or recovery, particularly because Joan returns after being discharged.
I feel like there are several elements here, similarly at work. Both scenes take place after Esther has a reason to feel exceptionally close with these girls. Doreen and her just went out together, leaving the flock behind to explore the city, and Joan helped her find a doctor. Not only do both of these girls seem to break that bond in some way, but they do it in a way that embarrasses Esther and reveals her self-consciousness. Lastly, as I mentioned, I think Esther really sees the two characters as standing in the way of her liberation. I believe this is why her feelings for them freeze, and why her compassion wears out.
Of course, everyone remembers Doreen with the woman who ironed the girls’ clothes, drunk at Esther’s door calling for Elly. What I think is interesting here is that it really seems to be the hotel employee that embarrasses Esther. Not only because Doreen is drunk at Esther’s door, but also the woman seems to think that it is best to have Doreen be with Esther than take her back to her own room. Esther becomes very self-conscious about this, as if this has some implications on how great their friendship is. Furthermore, the persona this woman from down the hall takes on resides in Esther, “I wanted to run after her and tell her I had nothing to do with Doreen, because she looked stern and hardworking and moral as an old-style European immigrant and reminded me of my Austrian grandmother” (The Bell Jar 24). It is almost like Doreen is corrupting an image that Esther has of herself.
I feel like something similar takes place with Joan. Joan leaves Belsize to watch a movie, but she doesn’t return even after the last bus has passed. Dr. Quinn comes to Esther to ask if she knows where Joan would go. Esther’s reaction here is very similar to her reaction to Doreen: “Suddenly I wanted to dissociate myself from Joan completely” (219). Yet again, there is a figure of authority present, and her connection with someone makes her ashamed. I feel here, especially so, Esther sees Joan as standing in the way of her freedom or recovery, particularly because Joan returns after being discharged.
I feel like there are several elements here, similarly at work. Both scenes take place after Esther has a reason to feel exceptionally close with these girls. Doreen and her just went out together, leaving the flock behind to explore the city, and Joan helped her find a doctor. Not only do both of these girls seem to break that bond in some way, but they do it in a way that embarrasses Esther and reveals her self-consciousness. Lastly, as I mentioned, I think Esther really sees the two characters as standing in the way of her liberation. I believe this is why her feelings for them freeze, and why her compassion wears out.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Blog 3 Josh W.
After finishing the book I realized something. However, this something isn't about Esther and frankly my feelings of irritation and animosity about her remain. My realization is about the world in which she lives and the world that present readers of this book are living in. Back then both society and Esther herself seem to think there is indeed something wrong with her personality, attitude, behavior, choices and/or whatever you want to call it. And because of this lack of understanding, they try to "cure" her in ways normal to that time. But what it comes down to is a combination of pity, a need to conform, isolate those who don't, and in a weird way become the stereotypical ideal of current trends even if they are complete and utter TV bullshit. And from this I have to ask the question of were people living in the 50s and 60s really like the stereotype or just trying to become it? Again this depends on situation because from what my father and mother have told me about their lives growing up was similar to what is now referred to as normal. I can't help but wonder if society is trapped in its own bell jar (sorry to make that ultimately corny reference but it was necessary) forced to be one specific thing for each generation instead of realizing its all the fucking same. We do now what they did back then except we fake understanding and empathy. There is no such thing as empathy and anyone who thinks they have felt it is either an idiot or they are lying to themselves. I know Esther is complex but she's simple too. It all depends on what aspect you're looking at and who you are as whatever you want to consider yourself. Before writing this I thought of the perfect analogy for my opinion: at the end of The Simpsons' episode "Bart gets an elephant" the Warden says "Well, animals are not unlike people, Mrs. Simpson. Some of them act badly because they've had a hard life, or have been mistreated...but, like people, some of them are just jerks." People are who they are and for the most part that doesn't change.
After finishing the book I realized something. However, this something isn't about Esther and frankly my feelings of irritation and animosity about her remain. My realization is about the world in which she lives and the world that present readers of this book are living in. Back then both society and Esther herself seem to think there is indeed something wrong with her personality, attitude, behavior, choices and/or whatever you want to call it. And because of this lack of understanding, they try to "cure" her in ways normal to that time. But what it comes down to is a combination of pity, a need to conform, isolate those who don't, and in a weird way become the stereotypical ideal of current trends even if they are complete and utter TV bullshit. And from this I have to ask the question of were people living in the 50s and 60s really like the stereotype or just trying to become it? Again this depends on situation because from what my father and mother have told me about their lives growing up was similar to what is now referred to as normal. I can't help but wonder if society is trapped in its own bell jar (sorry to make that ultimately corny reference but it was necessary) forced to be one specific thing for each generation instead of realizing its all the fucking same. We do now what they did back then except we fake understanding and empathy. There is no such thing as empathy and anyone who thinks they have felt it is either an idiot or they are lying to themselves. I know Esther is complex but she's simple too. It all depends on what aspect you're looking at and who you are as whatever you want to consider yourself. Before writing this I thought of the perfect analogy for my opinion: at the end of The Simpsons' episode "Bart gets an elephant" the Warden says "Well, animals are not unlike people, Mrs. Simpson. Some of them act badly because they've had a hard life, or have been mistreated...but, like people, some of them are just jerks." People are who they are and for the most part that doesn't change.
Honesty and the Shadow Side
The more I think about Esther, the more I think that we’re being too hard on her. We’ve repeatedly noted her callousness or her emotional disconnect in regard to the Rosenberg electrocutions, but I think it’s more than fair to say that morbid curiosity is an inherent part of human nature. I have admittedly spent hours trying to recreate the physical experience of dying loved ones in my mind. I can feel the pressure of a car tire rolling over a human frame. I can see a skull hitting the concrete and cracking open like an egg. I can hear the sound of tiny broken teeth scattering about on a city street. I can imagine the increasing heaviness of two flimsy lungs as they are gradually filled with smoke. I can hear the crackle of a fire as it eats away at a sleeping bag, move on to pajamas, and then digs in at the skin. These are the experiences of friends of mine, friends who I love dearly, and yet these are images that will be forever stuck in my head. I am not mentally ill and I am certainly not callous. The sadness that I have felt and the empathy that I’ve felt for their families and partners are both immeasurable. It goes without saying.
My point in this is not about measuring my personal life against Esther’s. Rather, it has everything to do with what Jung has coined as the “shadow side.” The shadow side is, essentially, the darker half of a whole. If a person is widely perceived as being caring, then there is also a hidden element of callousness about them. Personal conflict arises when a person chooses to deny the existence of their shadow side and sees it reflected in other people instead.
"Everyone carries a shadow," Jung wrote, "and the less it is embodied in the individual's conscious life, the blacker and denser it is." Jung also believed that "in spite of its function as a reservoir for human darkness—or perhaps because of this—the shadow is the seat of creativity." [Wikipedia]
I’d like to propose two ideas: Esther finds empathy that others were expressing toward the Rosenbergs trite or obvious. Perhaps focusing on understanding the experience in a physical sense is a means toward a deeper empathy. I can say with certainty that this is why my mind's eye is haunted with such acutely detailed images. On the other hand, if Esther is indeed being callous, perhaps it’s because she is more interested in exposing her shadow side, as shadow sides are far more fascinating than their opposite. She's a writer. The shadow side is where the stories are.
If you buy into either one of these propositions, then we can say that Esther is a supremely honest character. That’s what I think anyway, so I’ll just go ahead and say that I think she’s remarkably honest. When reading A Jest of God, we had a hard time liking Rachel because of the way she would constantly censor herself—for the majority of her story, she was more or less shutting off her shadow side. In that regard, Esther is the complete opposite. She isn’t afraid to reach into the depths of her psyche. Not only does she enjoy it and find it amusing, but she seems to take quite a bit of pride in her ability to do so. She should. It takes guts.
Here we have two characters who, I think it’s safe to say, the majority of our class disliked. Neither one of these ladies could catch a break. Rachel was too self-conscious. Rachel distorted the truth. Rachel censored herself. We couldn’t trust Rachel. Esther suffers many of the same shortcomings as Rachel (and more!), but the difference is that she'll be the first to admit it. Esther will tell you anything. Sure, she’s self-conscious, she exaggerates, and she distorts; that’s all a given. But through the distorted lens of her bell jar and all of that stale air that surrounds her, it is possible to see the essence of her character. And it’s not callous. It might be the opposite.
My point in this is not about measuring my personal life against Esther’s. Rather, it has everything to do with what Jung has coined as the “shadow side.” The shadow side is, essentially, the darker half of a whole. If a person is widely perceived as being caring, then there is also a hidden element of callousness about them. Personal conflict arises when a person chooses to deny the existence of their shadow side and sees it reflected in other people instead.
"Everyone carries a shadow," Jung wrote, "and the less it is embodied in the individual's conscious life, the blacker and denser it is." Jung also believed that "in spite of its function as a reservoir for human darkness—or perhaps because of this—the shadow is the seat of creativity." [Wikipedia]
I’d like to propose two ideas: Esther finds empathy that others were expressing toward the Rosenbergs trite or obvious. Perhaps focusing on understanding the experience in a physical sense is a means toward a deeper empathy. I can say with certainty that this is why my mind's eye is haunted with such acutely detailed images. On the other hand, if Esther is indeed being callous, perhaps it’s because she is more interested in exposing her shadow side, as shadow sides are far more fascinating than their opposite. She's a writer. The shadow side is where the stories are.
If you buy into either one of these propositions, then we can say that Esther is a supremely honest character. That’s what I think anyway, so I’ll just go ahead and say that I think she’s remarkably honest. When reading A Jest of God, we had a hard time liking Rachel because of the way she would constantly censor herself—for the majority of her story, she was more or less shutting off her shadow side. In that regard, Esther is the complete opposite. She isn’t afraid to reach into the depths of her psyche. Not only does she enjoy it and find it amusing, but she seems to take quite a bit of pride in her ability to do so. She should. It takes guts.
Here we have two characters who, I think it’s safe to say, the majority of our class disliked. Neither one of these ladies could catch a break. Rachel was too self-conscious. Rachel distorted the truth. Rachel censored herself. We couldn’t trust Rachel. Esther suffers many of the same shortcomings as Rachel (and more!), but the difference is that she'll be the first to admit it. Esther will tell you anything. Sure, she’s self-conscious, she exaggerates, and she distorts; that’s all a given. But through the distorted lens of her bell jar and all of that stale air that surrounds her, it is possible to see the essence of her character. And it’s not callous. It might be the opposite.
The Handmaid's Tale
While beginning to read The Handmaid's Tale, the most surprising thing that sticks out to me is the idea that Offred does not feel as if she can call anything "mine."
I feel I can compare Offred very slightly to Esther in The Bell Jar. They both feel like they can't control what's happening around them, and although they handle their situations differently, their minds are in the same state: lost and confused.
Offred constantly works around in her mind the idea of what happened to her husband and daughter. She remembers Luke many times throughout the beginning of the novel, and she seems lost without him. Of course, when you're family is ripped apart, that's to be expected.
Offred, just as Esther, kind of moves through life step after step like she thinks she's supposed to. Offred describes the environment around her in great details, but also very bluntly. She does what she has to do and what she is told to do and does it without question.
Esther moves through her environment like she thinks she's supposed to, even though she has no clear vision of where she's going. Esther is preoccupied with many things that involve the future, though, while Offred is preoccupied with the past.
It will be interesting to see how long Offred can last without completely immersing her mind in the past. It would be hard to continue thinking about your lost family every day, and especially with Moira's appearance, which makes her recall many other past events. I think it will all probably catch up with her sometime, though.
I feel I can compare Offred very slightly to Esther in The Bell Jar. They both feel like they can't control what's happening around them, and although they handle their situations differently, their minds are in the same state: lost and confused.
Offred constantly works around in her mind the idea of what happened to her husband and daughter. She remembers Luke many times throughout the beginning of the novel, and she seems lost without him. Of course, when you're family is ripped apart, that's to be expected.
Offred, just as Esther, kind of moves through life step after step like she thinks she's supposed to. Offred describes the environment around her in great details, but also very bluntly. She does what she has to do and what she is told to do and does it without question.
Esther moves through her environment like she thinks she's supposed to, even though she has no clear vision of where she's going. Esther is preoccupied with many things that involve the future, though, while Offred is preoccupied with the past.
It will be interesting to see how long Offred can last without completely immersing her mind in the past. It would be hard to continue thinking about your lost family every day, and especially with Moira's appearance, which makes her recall many other past events. I think it will all probably catch up with her sometime, though.
Esther's Baby Obsession
I have done a little more thinking about what we were talking about in class recently concerning Esther and her obsession with babies throughout The Bell Jar. I think we were definitely on correct with our thinking that Esther felt a connection to the dead babies in the jars, simply because they were trapped and unable to live life, which is essentially how Esther feels throughout most of the book. However, I think there is more to it than just that. There is one point in the novel where Esther wonders why it is that she seems to lack the kind of desire that most women have concerning motherhood and babies. I think that perhaps Esther is frightened of motherhood, because motherhood is, in a sense, another way of trapping someone.
Now, I do not want to make motherhood sound like a bad thing, because I am sure it is wonderful. But becoming a parent is a full time commitment and certain luxuries are lost when one decides to have a child. Esther already feels trapped in so many ways. I think that the idea of becoming a mother makes her feel even more trapped. A mother cannot ever just do as she pleases on a whim. A mother must always consider someone else. The idea of being tied to that kind of commitment probably frightens her. I think that the novel has so many images of babies throughout it because Esther knows that motherhood is a step in her life that many girls her age are starting to think about. However, because Esther feels so trapped already, it is hard for her imagine making that kind of commitment. The babies in the book are a constant reminder to Esther of what she is simply not ready for and they haunt her because a part of her feels as though she should be ready for it.
Now, I do not want to make motherhood sound like a bad thing, because I am sure it is wonderful. But becoming a parent is a full time commitment and certain luxuries are lost when one decides to have a child. Esther already feels trapped in so many ways. I think that the idea of becoming a mother makes her feel even more trapped. A mother cannot ever just do as she pleases on a whim. A mother must always consider someone else. The idea of being tied to that kind of commitment probably frightens her. I think that the novel has so many images of babies throughout it because Esther knows that motherhood is a step in her life that many girls her age are starting to think about. However, because Esther feels so trapped already, it is hard for her imagine making that kind of commitment. The babies in the book are a constant reminder to Esther of what she is simply not ready for and they haunt her because a part of her feels as though she should be ready for it.
Trend of the 1950's
There has been a lot of talk about how crazy Esther is. I would have to agree in some aspects, she is a bit unorthodox. However, I decided to do a little bit of research and see just how common a mental illness was in the 1950's. Was Esther really that unordinary? Was she the only college age girl losing her mind?
The answer is no. More so, DEFINITELY NOT! I visited this online journal: http://www.enotes.com/1950-medicine-health-american-decades/mental-illness, and the findings were a bit different than what many of us might expect. There were a ton of cases of mental illness. In fact, it was reported that one in three would have a family member admitted to a mental institution. This fact causes me to believe it was some kind of popular trend, much like the rehab stints of today's well known stars. If you weren't spending some time in a mental institution, you were rare. It was a time of all types of neurosis's and mental disorders, that today would be thought of as no more than ADD, OCD, or just being a little odd. Maybe treated with some Prozac or Zoloft instead of these electroshock therapy of Esther's time.
After finding this, it is hard to place the label "crazy" on Esther. In her generation, being crazy was in fact not the crazy thing to do at all. Being normal was. On top of all of that, sans the suicide attempts, I think Esther was just a relatively normal college girl with all the worries, fears, and dislikes that are still common today, maybe just a bit exaggerated though.
The answer is no. More so, DEFINITELY NOT! I visited this online journal: http://www.enotes.com/1950-medicine-health-american-decades/mental-illness, and the findings were a bit different than what many of us might expect. There were a ton of cases of mental illness. In fact, it was reported that one in three would have a family member admitted to a mental institution. This fact causes me to believe it was some kind of popular trend, much like the rehab stints of today's well known stars. If you weren't spending some time in a mental institution, you were rare. It was a time of all types of neurosis's and mental disorders, that today would be thought of as no more than ADD, OCD, or just being a little odd. Maybe treated with some Prozac or Zoloft instead of these electroshock therapy of Esther's time.
After finding this, it is hard to place the label "crazy" on Esther. In her generation, being crazy was in fact not the crazy thing to do at all. Being normal was. On top of all of that, sans the suicide attempts, I think Esther was just a relatively normal college girl with all the worries, fears, and dislikes that are still common today, maybe just a bit exaggerated though.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
It's a bad time to get depressed
Esther’s character in this novel is strongly shaped by her profound depression. How society views her depression and mental illness in general is reflected in the novel. Mr. Willard displays a particularly uniformed and potentially harmful attitude toward illness. When dropping Esther off at the tuberculosis sanatorium, he is visibly agitated, Esther observes, and soon he leaves her with Buddy. Buddy explains that his father “couldn’t stand the sight of sickness… because he thought all sickness was sickness of the will.” This strikes us as an antiquated philosophy to hold toward illness.
Esther’s mother displays a subtler, and thus more dangerous, misconception of illness. In this case, she doesn’t understand her daughter’s mental illness at all. When Esther tells her mother she doesn’t want to see Doctor Gordon again, her mother smiles and says, “I knew my baby wasn’t like that… I knew you’d decide to be all right again.” These two characters, as adults and parents, seem to stand in as some of the novel’s representatives of New England society in general, which, as we discussed in class, seems to have a great degree of preoccupation with constructing and maintaining a pristine public image. The idea that a mental disorder—something so esoteric as a severe serotonin imbalance in her brain—could preclude a New England from successfully engaging in that society and playing her predefined social role.
These two characters offer a glimpse of the harsh stigma that isolates Esther, who as a consequence of her depression already isolates herself. Plath’s title is apt; a bell jar is used almost exclusively as an illustrative tool, to demonstrate to science classes the effects of a vacuum on various experiments, like exploding marshmallows or listening to a ringing alarm clock fade into silence. Since the quality of vacuum they produce is low, they can be used for virtually nothing else but to display scientific curiosities. Especially when visited by George Bakewell, Ester feels like she is on exhibit, like “some exciting new zoo animal.” She sees that he “just wanted to see what a girl who was crazy enough to kill herself looked like.” And Bakewell is supposed to be a medical student, yet he still displays an unfortunately unprofessional attitude. Esther was living in a very difficult time to suffer from mental disorders, highly misunderstood as they were.
Esther’s mother displays a subtler, and thus more dangerous, misconception of illness. In this case, she doesn’t understand her daughter’s mental illness at all. When Esther tells her mother she doesn’t want to see Doctor Gordon again, her mother smiles and says, “I knew my baby wasn’t like that… I knew you’d decide to be all right again.” These two characters, as adults and parents, seem to stand in as some of the novel’s representatives of New England society in general, which, as we discussed in class, seems to have a great degree of preoccupation with constructing and maintaining a pristine public image. The idea that a mental disorder—something so esoteric as a severe serotonin imbalance in her brain—could preclude a New England from successfully engaging in that society and playing her predefined social role.
These two characters offer a glimpse of the harsh stigma that isolates Esther, who as a consequence of her depression already isolates herself. Plath’s title is apt; a bell jar is used almost exclusively as an illustrative tool, to demonstrate to science classes the effects of a vacuum on various experiments, like exploding marshmallows or listening to a ringing alarm clock fade into silence. Since the quality of vacuum they produce is low, they can be used for virtually nothing else but to display scientific curiosities. Especially when visited by George Bakewell, Ester feels like she is on exhibit, like “some exciting new zoo animal.” She sees that he “just wanted to see what a girl who was crazy enough to kill herself looked like.” And Bakewell is supposed to be a medical student, yet he still displays an unfortunately unprofessional attitude. Esther was living in a very difficult time to suffer from mental disorders, highly misunderstood as they were.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Bipolar Disorder
I will be less American-centric in this post.
Many experts in the mental health field, as well as ardent Plath historians, have largely come to the conclusion that Sylvia Plath most likely suffered from bipolar disorder. This kind of diagnosis would not have been available to Plath in her lifetime (the very term "bipolar disorder" has only been around for a couple decades), nor would she have had access to the myriad treatments and therapies available today. Shock therapy was one of the more popular treatments at that time, and you'll notice that Esther's psychiatrist first turns to shock therapy before anything else. Today, shock therapy is still in use, but only after having exhausted almost all other options. The only other major option for treatment in the 1950s would have been lithium, but that was a very new medication. I don't recall lithium being mentioned in The Bell Jar, nor do I remember hearing anything about Plath using lithium, but it is possible that she took it at some point.
If you read carefully, you might notice some symptoms of bipolar disorder in Esther. At the beginning of the novel, Esther is prone to going on shopping sprees and buying expensive clothing. She associates with the most troublesome girl in the group, goes drinking with unfamiliar people at unfamiliar places, and eats excessively. While she is in New York, it's clear that Esther is experiencing mania. Mania is depression's counterpart, and as such characterizes a state of heightened mood and activity. Her impulsive behavior is very typical for a bipolar person on the manic side of the spectrum. Also, her opinions of the other girls are very telling signs of her artificially bolstered self-esteem, another symptom of mania.
After Esther leaves New York, her behavior flips. Now faced with the prospect of living at home with her mother after the glow and trauma of New York, Esther withdraws. She is no longer able to engage in enjoyable activities, like reading, writing, or hanging out with friends. She's unable to make decisions about the short-term, let alone the long-term. She can't sleep. Her dreams for the future dim into regressively auspicious plans until she has no plans at all, and she hopes for death. It goes without saying that these are all sure signs of depression.
It's interesting that so many writers have retroactively been diagnosed with some sort of psychosis. It is peculiar how madness seems most at home in creative people, but what I find most interesting is how these people found the willpower to create art in the midst of their turmoil.
Sorry for my tardiness. No excuses. Except that I fell asleep watching PBS.
Many experts in the mental health field, as well as ardent Plath historians, have largely come to the conclusion that Sylvia Plath most likely suffered from bipolar disorder. This kind of diagnosis would not have been available to Plath in her lifetime (the very term "bipolar disorder" has only been around for a couple decades), nor would she have had access to the myriad treatments and therapies available today. Shock therapy was one of the more popular treatments at that time, and you'll notice that Esther's psychiatrist first turns to shock therapy before anything else. Today, shock therapy is still in use, but only after having exhausted almost all other options. The only other major option for treatment in the 1950s would have been lithium, but that was a very new medication. I don't recall lithium being mentioned in The Bell Jar, nor do I remember hearing anything about Plath using lithium, but it is possible that she took it at some point.
If you read carefully, you might notice some symptoms of bipolar disorder in Esther. At the beginning of the novel, Esther is prone to going on shopping sprees and buying expensive clothing. She associates with the most troublesome girl in the group, goes drinking with unfamiliar people at unfamiliar places, and eats excessively. While she is in New York, it's clear that Esther is experiencing mania. Mania is depression's counterpart, and as such characterizes a state of heightened mood and activity. Her impulsive behavior is very typical for a bipolar person on the manic side of the spectrum. Also, her opinions of the other girls are very telling signs of her artificially bolstered self-esteem, another symptom of mania.
After Esther leaves New York, her behavior flips. Now faced with the prospect of living at home with her mother after the glow and trauma of New York, Esther withdraws. She is no longer able to engage in enjoyable activities, like reading, writing, or hanging out with friends. She's unable to make decisions about the short-term, let alone the long-term. She can't sleep. Her dreams for the future dim into regressively auspicious plans until she has no plans at all, and she hopes for death. It goes without saying that these are all sure signs of depression.
It's interesting that so many writers have retroactively been diagnosed with some sort of psychosis. It is peculiar how madness seems most at home in creative people, but what I find most interesting is how these people found the willpower to create art in the midst of their turmoil.
Sorry for my tardiness. No excuses. Except that I fell asleep watching PBS.
Esther = crazy
Knowing about the biographical nature of The Bell Jar adds a morbidly chilling realism to Esther’s downward spiral, in her attempt to escape the external pressures that push her towards insanity and suicide. Esther’s fear of losing academic success at the end of college captures a moment that every student, including Sylvia Plath, feels towards the future and what will define us. While most normal people have complex worries and desires for what their identity shall be, Esther’s insecurity is in her idea that she cannot marry and have children while being a professor and a poet. Her lack of vision and motivation to merge these two possible realities lies at the root of her struggle for normalcy. Not to say that the external pressures of her environment do not greatly exacerbate her mental struggle, but it his her mind that cannot find the middle of the road between these two identities she feels needs pursuing. Esther slips into insanity by the happenings in her environment and in her own mind. Esther’s inability to find the motivation to inherit the qualities of both identities is what makes her mental reality skewed and is the answer to why she feels suicide to be the cure for her conflict. Esther feels she must become both to be happy but in her mind it’s one or the other. Killing herself is a rational option because it absolves her from having to deal with her identity paradox. As an audience we see the lunacy in this logic of her trying to save herself by killing herself.
Knowing Plath’s suicidal struggles in her own life; one can only wonder how much of Esther’s insanity she had to create and how much is pulled from her own troubled mind.
Knowing Plath’s suicidal struggles in her own life; one can only wonder how much of Esther’s insanity she had to create and how much is pulled from her own troubled mind.
Sylvia and Esther
As I read The Bell Jar, I can't help but think about the origins of Esther's story. Knowing that Esther is closely based on Sylvia Plath herself, I often wonder what amount, if any, of this story is simply fictional. I noticed while reading the other blogs that Jessica posed an interesting pair of questions in her reponse that I wish to consider myself. She stated, "So, my two questions, posed to both you and to myself, are: a.) how deeply should we allow outside knowledge of Plath's life to influence our reading of novel, and b.) how do we examine the theme of death throughout the work?"
I believe that the outside knowledge we have of Plath's life is a great benefit and helpful influence on our reading of the novel. I feel that when we seperate the two women we potentially destroy our own ability to connect with the story. Because I am aware of Plath's own sufferings and personal stages of development, it allows me to see Esther in a different light. Initially I felt that she seemed somewhat immature and ungrateful, but as I know more about Plath I have a deeper view on Esther's issues. I feel that this novel was Plath's call to the world. While she may have married a man she didn't truly enjoy being with and she may have spent her life in a seemingly never-ending internal struggle, this novel releases some of what she felt to the world. In her death, her words were altered by her husband and her family, but this piece reamins as a testament to the power she had as a woman and as a writer. I believe that when we consider the her circumstances as the author of this novel, we are better able to identify a piece of ourselves or someone we know within it.
Secondly, the theme of death is rather curious to consider throughout the work. I believe that death is what Plath saw as the ultimate solace for her pain. Inherently as an autobiographical work, Esther must feel the same. Both women achieve what appears as academic perfection, but are dissatisfied in the end. Death is not a dreary end to Esther, but a resolutory end for her own self-doubt. While death seems a negative end and rather gruesome to discuss, for Plath it looks as if it is all she longed for... a quiet end.
I believe that the outside knowledge we have of Plath's life is a great benefit and helpful influence on our reading of the novel. I feel that when we seperate the two women we potentially destroy our own ability to connect with the story. Because I am aware of Plath's own sufferings and personal stages of development, it allows me to see Esther in a different light. Initially I felt that she seemed somewhat immature and ungrateful, but as I know more about Plath I have a deeper view on Esther's issues. I feel that this novel was Plath's call to the world. While she may have married a man she didn't truly enjoy being with and she may have spent her life in a seemingly never-ending internal struggle, this novel releases some of what she felt to the world. In her death, her words were altered by her husband and her family, but this piece reamins as a testament to the power she had as a woman and as a writer. I believe that when we consider the her circumstances as the author of this novel, we are better able to identify a piece of ourselves or someone we know within it.
Secondly, the theme of death is rather curious to consider throughout the work. I believe that death is what Plath saw as the ultimate solace for her pain. Inherently as an autobiographical work, Esther must feel the same. Both women achieve what appears as academic perfection, but are dissatisfied in the end. Death is not a dreary end to Esther, but a resolutory end for her own self-doubt. While death seems a negative end and rather gruesome to discuss, for Plath it looks as if it is all she longed for... a quiet end.
The Waverley Syndrome
Most blog posts that have dealt with Plath's novel have dealt both with Esther's obsession with death and whether we as readers should sympathize with her. I personally believe that these concepts are intertwined, and I cannot feel sympathy towards Esther's character.
First of all, Esther always focuses on the most negative possible outcomes in her daydreams. Every situation she dreams up becomes too dull for her to actually consider pursuing. Then, when she gets to the next one, she finds something wrong with it. This is most obvious when she is considering dropping down to regular English and then switching colleges. She automatically focuses on the assumed fact that anyone in those programs would be more knowledgeable than her. She completely fails to realize, however, that she is extremely knowledgeable about Dylan Thomas. Instead of having some knowledge about a vast array of information, she has intense knowledge of one subject. Esther always seems to focus on the negative, though. She refuses to believe that there is anything good in her life, which seems to be what leads to her obsession with death.
While she is at Doctor Gordon's office, Esther tells us that she thought "everything people did seemed so silly, because they only died in the end." This certainly seems to fit in with her negative attitude. Since she is always looking for the negative, it should come as no surprise that she views everything that people do as futile. It seems that, for her, nothing is good. Thus, nothing really matters. This is why I have trouble sympathizing with her. While I would be inclined to feel some sort of empathy towards her overall bleak picture of the world, I feel that everything that is "ailing" her is self-created and that she is smply wallowing in her own self-pity, waiting for someone else to "diagnose" her problem and make it all better. She takes no action to better her situation herself and does not expect that she should have to. In this way, Esther parallels Rachel, but she is also much more Waverley-like in that she takes absolutely no agency and takes no action or responsibility for her own situation. I feel like I've been a bit harsh in my analysis of Esther, but it is only because I want to see some gumption and she seems to be just a lame-duck so far.
First of all, Esther always focuses on the most negative possible outcomes in her daydreams. Every situation she dreams up becomes too dull for her to actually consider pursuing. Then, when she gets to the next one, she finds something wrong with it. This is most obvious when she is considering dropping down to regular English and then switching colleges. She automatically focuses on the assumed fact that anyone in those programs would be more knowledgeable than her. She completely fails to realize, however, that she is extremely knowledgeable about Dylan Thomas. Instead of having some knowledge about a vast array of information, she has intense knowledge of one subject. Esther always seems to focus on the negative, though. She refuses to believe that there is anything good in her life, which seems to be what leads to her obsession with death.
While she is at Doctor Gordon's office, Esther tells us that she thought "everything people did seemed so silly, because they only died in the end." This certainly seems to fit in with her negative attitude. Since she is always looking for the negative, it should come as no surprise that she views everything that people do as futile. It seems that, for her, nothing is good. Thus, nothing really matters. This is why I have trouble sympathizing with her. While I would be inclined to feel some sort of empathy towards her overall bleak picture of the world, I feel that everything that is "ailing" her is self-created and that she is smply wallowing in her own self-pity, waiting for someone else to "diagnose" her problem and make it all better. She takes no action to better her situation herself and does not expect that she should have to. In this way, Esther parallels Rachel, but she is also much more Waverley-like in that she takes absolutely no agency and takes no action or responsibility for her own situation. I feel like I've been a bit harsh in my analysis of Esther, but it is only because I want to see some gumption and she seems to be just a lame-duck so far.
Buddy a hypocrite?
Esther troubles me. She focuses solely on minute details yet describes individuals like Buddy Willard is generalities. Buddy Willard is a hypocrite— she follows her declaration up with a story. However, does she truly understand the word? (My response is to the first seven chapters).
I believe she understands the meaning of the word hypocrite—someone who says one thing and does another. However, how truly hypocritical is Buddy? He simply explains to her that she seems like she has been dating a lot of boys. Esther appears to over analyze the situation and labels Buddy as a hypocrite upon discovering his sexual impurity.
I believe Buddy is a not a hypocrite. He simply is dating in the college world and often the dating world has no bars or rules. Esther shows interest in him yet she has nothing good to say and minimal intellectual interaction. She appears extremely focused on falling in love and falling in love fast. If Buddy were such a hypocrite, he may have simply dumped Esther and pursued a girl with looser morals in order to get his fix. However, he shows interest in her poetry and education and he continues the rendezvous. Esther is more at fault then Buddy. She lives in a dream world perpetually reliving the encounters with Buddy—yet she replaces her “I guess so’s” with more witty and interesting comments. It is almost no wonder why no one calls her back for a second date. If I were on a date with her I wouldn’t call her back ever—not even to set her up with one of my friends. Esther appears to want to be interesting yet short of the mark.
I have more problems with Esther’s character aside from this character flaw. And want to discuss them further in class tomorrow.
I believe she understands the meaning of the word hypocrite—someone who says one thing and does another. However, how truly hypocritical is Buddy? He simply explains to her that she seems like she has been dating a lot of boys. Esther appears to over analyze the situation and labels Buddy as a hypocrite upon discovering his sexual impurity.
I believe Buddy is a not a hypocrite. He simply is dating in the college world and often the dating world has no bars or rules. Esther shows interest in him yet she has nothing good to say and minimal intellectual interaction. She appears extremely focused on falling in love and falling in love fast. If Buddy were such a hypocrite, he may have simply dumped Esther and pursued a girl with looser morals in order to get his fix. However, he shows interest in her poetry and education and he continues the rendezvous. Esther is more at fault then Buddy. She lives in a dream world perpetually reliving the encounters with Buddy—yet she replaces her “I guess so’s” with more witty and interesting comments. It is almost no wonder why no one calls her back for a second date. If I were on a date with her I wouldn’t call her back ever—not even to set her up with one of my friends. Esther appears to want to be interesting yet short of the mark.
I have more problems with Esther’s character aside from this character flaw. And want to discuss them further in class tomorrow.
Plath and insanity
When I was reading The Bell Jar, I immediately thought of the film Harold and Maude whenever I read a section about Esther's acceptance of, or search for, death. Esther defines neurosis as "wanting two mutually exclusive things at one and the same time" (Plath, 94). The example she uses, of wanting to live in a city and in the country, is simply the very tip of the iceberg of Esther's frequently conflicting desires, the most prominent, perhaps, being her desire both to die and to live.
In Harold and Maude, the main character is a young man who has yet to discover what to do with his life. He spends a great deal of time enacting theatrical and gory death scenes - whether or not he actually means to kill himself is never clear. It is only when he meets and connects on a deeply emotional level with Maude that he is able to truly live his life with joy. For Esther, there is no Maude, only a continuing line of people who can't quite reach her. Through Esther's eyes, readers glimpse the people who tried, in their own unsuccessful ways, to connect with her. Buddy wrote a poem which he showed Esther, Doreen tried to take Esther out, and Betsy "was always asking me to do things with her and the other girls as if she were trying to save me in some way," (6).
Maybe Esther simply has less hope than Harold. Maybe she is actually chemically depressed while Harold is simply unfulfilled. The fact of the matter is, Esther actually tries to kill herself. She throws caution and self-preservation to the wind when she skies down the mountain. She attempts to slit her wrists, though she is unable to actually go through with it. She takes "at least fifty [sleeping pills]...and started taking them swiftly... one by one" (168-169). Her preoccupation with death is an established element of her character, but in The Bell Jar, death is a darker and more literal reality than it is depicted in the film. While Harold and Maude shows death to be a final, peaceful release at the end of a long life, The Bell Jar makes death an ugly process, full of mistakes and violence.
In Harold and Maude, the main character is a young man who has yet to discover what to do with his life. He spends a great deal of time enacting theatrical and gory death scenes - whether or not he actually means to kill himself is never clear. It is only when he meets and connects on a deeply emotional level with Maude that he is able to truly live his life with joy. For Esther, there is no Maude, only a continuing line of people who can't quite reach her. Through Esther's eyes, readers glimpse the people who tried, in their own unsuccessful ways, to connect with her. Buddy wrote a poem which he showed Esther, Doreen tried to take Esther out, and Betsy "was always asking me to do things with her and the other girls as if she were trying to save me in some way," (6).
Maybe Esther simply has less hope than Harold. Maybe she is actually chemically depressed while Harold is simply unfulfilled. The fact of the matter is, Esther actually tries to kill herself. She throws caution and self-preservation to the wind when she skies down the mountain. She attempts to slit her wrists, though she is unable to actually go through with it. She takes "at least fifty [sleeping pills]...and started taking them swiftly... one by one" (168-169). Her preoccupation with death is an established element of her character, but in The Bell Jar, death is a darker and more literal reality than it is depicted in the film. While Harold and Maude shows death to be a final, peaceful release at the end of a long life, The Bell Jar makes death an ugly process, full of mistakes and violence.
Plath
The theme of death and suicide in The Bell Jar is definitely obvious. Knowing about the events in her life just led me down a different path of interpretation. If I didn’t know anything about Plath herself, I would have a very hard time sympathizing with her and think of her as annoying and attention hungry. All of the opportunities that she is offered in the book make it even harder to sympathize with her. She talks about her full ride to college and summer internship that every girl would die for and it makes you wonder why she can’t just be appreciative and quit feeling sorry for herself. However, knowing Plath’s story helped me to understand Esther’s character on a different level and more completely. All of these opportunities that have been put in front of her in the book are symbols of all of the pressure Plath felt like she had on her as a student and author. Applying this knowledge helped me to understand Esther’s obsession with death. She sees an opportunity to kill herself with almost every situation she is put in just like Plath felt like she needed to do in order to get out of it all and away from all the pressure.
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