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.

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.

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.

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.

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.