Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Violence In Oroonoko

It seems like we (Hust girls) cannot get away from this theme of violence. Halfway through the reading of Oronooko, I sighed to my roommate about the love story I was reading for class...I should have known better! The violence thahttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gift appears in the end of Oroonoko (the killing of Imoinda, the whipping and self-inflicted wounds of Oronooko, etc.) seems to me like it continues the theme of tragic endings that so characterized this period of writing. Shakespeare began the tradition in the late 1500's with his tragic plays, and Behn seems to have at least been slightly influenced by that genre in the 1680's, considering the ending of the play. I found one article even highlighting the similarities between Oronooko and classic Greek romances.However, the graphic nature of the text is still appalling:

"All that Love cou'd say in such cases, being ended; and all the intermitting Irresolutions being adjusted, the Lovely, Young, and Ador'd Victim lays her self down, before the Sacrificer; while he, with a Hand resolv'd, and a Heart breaking within, gave the Fatal Stroke; first, cutting her Throat, and then severing her yet Smiling Face from that Delicate body, pregnant as it was with Fruits of tend'rest Love." (p. 61)

Not only is Oronooko killing his wife, he kills his unborn child-and then decapitates the mother! Even more interesting here is Behn's use of loving, tender words and descriptions, which make the horrific murder scene even more gruesome in contrast. Additionally, she capitalizes certain words to add emphasis, a style I found myself enjoying more and more while reading. Was this style characteristic of Behn's time, or originally her own?

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Turning Turk

I found the article's description at the beginning of the article the most interesting, where the typical battle of English (good) versus Turk (evil) is laid out. It makes sense that the English needed and wanted a physical representation of evil to battle, and that came in the form of the Turks. On page four, the article clarifies that Englishmen were not afraid of "cultural domination", but actually afraid of being "conquered, captured and converted". By placing the responsibility for their possible pending conversion on the Turks, and making it seem like an act of force, maybe they were trying to clear their consciences about conversion. If anyone converted to Islam, it was an act of force, NEVER an act of willpower.

Later instances of representing the devil through the Turks are listed on page five: the article contains a text referring to the Turks in the singular, as "the wicked monster and damned soul Mahumet". The English lump all of the Turks into a category similar to saying that group of people 'over there', represented by a single person equal to Satan. While this godless existence was often associated with Turks, I found a sermon by Martin Luther discussing this very subject...even admitting the religious devotion of the Turks in comparison with the pope, and despite their refutal of key Christian doctrine (although he also associates them with the devil!).

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Othello



After reading these last acts of Othello, I feel the same frustration I usually feel after watching or reading some kind of tragedy. In every instance of tragic love, it seems like the characters are reduced to animalistic creatures with no control over their actions. Shakespeare hints at this in Act 5, Scene 2, when Desdemona tells Othello,

"And yet I fear you; for you're fatal then
When your eyes roll so..."

Later, before Othello MURDERS her, she again brings up his crazed look:

"Alas, why gnaw you so your nether lip?
Some bloody passion shakes your very frame."

Shakespeare then seems to indicate that each person has an inner rage, usually release only by the jealousies of love. While this animalistic rage isn't necessarily commendable, he seems to indicate that it is common to all humans, and a natural reaction for Othello. But really-killing his wife? The image of a powerful war hero 'smothering' the frail, delicate woman that Desdemona is supposed to be seems like a horror movie, not a love story gone wrong. I think there's more at work in Othello's mind than the typical jealousies of love..perhaps Shakespeare questioned Othello's strength of sanity throughout the story. In either case, I think Iago represents here the nagging fear that grows in a person's mind until it drives a person mad (literally, in Othello's case) or to action.

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

tough love

After reading these two acts of Othello, I can't help but wonder about the seemingly popular belief of Shakespeare's characters-that love is fleeting in anyone but the most perfectly matched couple. Iago KNOWS his plot will work because they young couple he preys on is not the typical one. In other words, Shakespeare deals with the same widespread notions that we deal with today when discussing interracial marriage: a couple from different backgrounds, especially racially, has it 'harder' in today's world...but I beg to differ. Isn't the point of love to find one's compliment in another person? To me, people of such drastically different backgrounds as Othello and Desdemona actually form a more perfect couple, by bonding over their differences, and sticking it out even though their peers don't think they can.

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

Montaigne's Choice

All of the essays had a unique focus, but I found the first essay by Montaigne the most unusual and comment-worthy. Reading the title 'On the Power of Imagination', I expected the essay to contain notes on the author's process of writing, encouragement to enjoy the arts, and other reflections on the positive aspects of creativity. Instead, Montaigne writes, for pages, about marital and sexual affairs (and shortcomings). Although I understood the point he made between the intimidation of the mind and performance , that could translate to any realm of life, I thought his approach was unique, questionable, and entertaining all at once. Shauna and I couldn't help reading parts out loud to each other, and though we laughed at a number of lines, Montaigne's humorous subject succeeded in getting his point across. After reading the first essay, the topic of friendship seemed of high esteem, and I quickly became more focused on this more HUST-like reading...but perhaps appreciated both styles a little bit more because of the humor in the first.