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Student Midterm submissions 2015 (2015 midterm assignment) |
LITR 5831 World Literature |
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Joe Bernard
Part 1: Reviewing views
With my final semester within weeks away, I find myself caught between
reflecting on the essays of graduate yesteryear and quietly telling myself that
my days of toiling away at a research paper are almost finished. Although this
is a rather delicate balancing act, the notion that others have experienced this
dance and lived to tell the tale inspire me. By analyzing their work, I feel not
only a sense of inspiration by their accomplishments, but also motivation to
keep my own writing sharpened. By analyzing the real world application of Sarah
DeLaRosa and the focus on intertexuality by Chrisoula Mouliatis and Camille
Buxton, one can gather inspiration and motivation for their own academic
compositions.
Sarah’s admirable essay entitled “Yours, Mine, and Ours” takes on a
daunting task in fusing literary texts and educational theory together to form a
kind of surprising intertextuality that Camille and Chrisoula pull off with
literary texts alone. Merging Pratt’s idea of the “contact zone theory” with
colonial literature proves to be a rather illuminating exercise. As Sarah points
out, Pratt’s idea about “contact zone theory” is that a classroom features
cultures and viewpoints that will naturally clash, but also grapple will each
other to achieve mutual understanding. This is indeed the same kind of struggle
that colonists and natives deal with: “The boundary between the colony and the
postcolonial space left afterwards is the meeting place where two or more
cultures negotiate each other. . .” Those readers who are not familiar with
educational theory can jump right in without feeling the need to read volumes of
educational theory, seeing as Sarah is able to relate the course’s focus to a
distilled version of theory that her audience can understand, which makes her
essay accessible.
Camille focuses on intertextuality in similar vein to Chrisoula and
Sarah, but she deems her subject more of a “dialogue,” which fits perfectly with
the course objectives. Dialogue implies discussion and relationships rather than
opposing sides, which Camille does hit on in her thesis: “Crusoe
and Lucy engage in a dialogue about a
subject that affects both protagonists: the act of transnational migration.”
Buxton is able to focus her attention on how the differences and similarities of
the characters’ respective migrations affects their psyches. An effective
compare and contrast essay not only details specific points about both sides
but brings them together for an intriguing stance on an existing issue, which
Camille does: “If class opens an interesting dialogue between
Lucy and
Crusoe, it also offers a different
perspective on the world. The transnational migrant’s world view differs
considerably. . .” By uniting the two works under the umbrella of class, Camille
focuses the reader’s perspective by not scattering the issues haphazardly across
her essay. It is unified and cohesive.
Chrisoula’s essay entitled “An Appreciation of Colonial-Postcolonial
Literature through Intertextuality” reveals a very honest and forthright
perspective that is necessary for superb academic writing. An audience can
appreciate a writer who is “up front” with their perspective rather than
couching it in word fluff. Chrisoula opens up to her reader right away by
saying: “My intentions were to explore literature in a topic of which I was
previously ignorant.” As someone who can wholeheartedly relate to the feeling, I
can appreciate a colleague who felt the same way I did and allows for her
honesty to dictate the rest of her writing: “It takes a person willing to
appreciate and delve further into the text and dialogue to really understand
what was happening in the time period. . .” Chrisoula’s tone is what drew me to
this essay and I believe will serve her well in her future endeavors.
Inspiration and motivation are indeed the two concepts one can take away
from reading these three essays. If one needs advice on expertly weaving theory
and literature together to form an intertextual essay or creating a cohesive and
unified argument that allows for readers to truly understand the message, an
aspiring author can turn to their colleagues for help. Throughout the academic
writing process, however, it is always refreshing to remember that an honesty
and forthright perspective can garner much more respect than an essay attempting
to outwit itself with clever word choice.
Part 2: The psychological dichotomy of Colonialism
The act of colonization has the potential to be viewed as a saving act
of divine intervention. Typically, a stronger, more “civilized” culture decides
that they have a kind of moral obligation or duty to ensure that a less
“civilized” people receive a proper education. Upon implementation of this
“proper education”, a unique process of identity transposition is taught.
Customs and traditions that may have once been staples of a culture are replaced
with new mores and taboos that are supposed to constitute a new, “wholesome”
identity for the now colonized peoples. This is a rather traumatic procedure,
one that leaves the colonized and the colonizer in a dangerous psychological
state that can lead to nothing but ruin. By analyzing
Robinson Crusoe and
Lucy, the psychological dichotomy
between retaining and purging individual identity is exposed.
In Defoe’s novel, the titular character is thrust into the role of a
colonizer, which eventually leads to an intense struggle between retaining and
purging identity. The first two chapters of the novel give a rather detailed
explication of Crusoe’s childhood. A young and plucky lad with an itch for
adventuring, he is quick to resist domestication as a “middle state” adult: “I
would be satisfied with nothing but going to sea; and my inclination to this led
me so strongly against . . . the commands of my father” (1.4). Already the reader
is introduced to the idea of removing identity imposed by the “colonizing”
commands of Crusoe’s father. Crusoe rejects the idea that “the middle station of
life was calculated for all kind of virtue. . .and that peace and plenty were . .
. a fortune” (1.6). He would take no part in the colonization of moderation,
choosing to “break loose”(1.12) from the bonds of imposed identity, purging it
from his mind. Instead of being overtaken by the “proper” identity that his
parents desired him to have, Crusoe sets out to forge his own path, a
“post-colonial” kind of exploration.
In his attempts to remove himself from his “colonizing” family, Crusoe
finds himself in a colonizing role, which ushers in a struggle between purging
and retention of identity. During the years of his exploration, he is
shipwrecked on an island with indigenous peoples that he quickly colonizes and
has at his “absolute command”(11.1). Defoe then inserts a rather intriguing
thought by Crusoe: “Then, to see how like a king I dined, too, all alone,
attended by my servants . . .”(11.1) He is “attended” to by servants, but the
insertion of “all alone” indicates a feeling of isolation from the people he
serves. As a colonizer, he does not take part in the identity of those who he
has colonized, yet he rules them as an absolute authority. Crusoe is an
alienated king, a foreigner who in his youth rejected foreign ideas from his
parents and chose to blaze his own path, yet finds himself in a similar position
to his colonizing parents. He rules as a colonizer while rejecting colonization,
he purges imposed identity from his lineage only to impose it on others, a
psychological dichotomy.
Crusoe’s psychological dichotomy is put on full display when one views
his relationship with Friday. A rescued native, Friday is given his name by
Crusoe, who explains their initial encounter with a degree of colonial
haughtiness: “I began to . . . teach him to speak to me: and first, I let him know
his name should be Friday, which was the day I saved his life . . . . I likewise
taught him to say Master. . .then let him know that was to be my name” (14.18).
There is an assertion of dominance, of imposed identity upon Friday at the very
beginning of their relationship which continues throughout the story. However,
Friday questions Crusoe’s views on cannibalism and religion, going so far as to
fluster Crusoe into silence. Friday’s curiosity is spawned by Crusoe’s retention
of his old identity, of a young boy growing up in England instructed in boarding
schools and nuclear families(1.1). So then, while Crusoe attempted to purge
himself of his old English identity, he still manages to transpose those ideals
onto Friday, proving that colonization morphs into an odd mixture of removal and
addition that cannot be separated.
Kincaid creates a kindred soul to Crusoe in her novel, this character
struggling immensely with both her desire to purge and retain identities that
have been imposed upon her. Lucy is portrayed as a young woman who appears to be
jaded not only by her former life, but also by the one around her. An incident
involving daffodils come to mind in which Mariah, Lucy’s caretaker, shows her a
plain filled with the flower that hold sentimental value to the former. Lucy’s
reaction typifies the purging and retention of identity that colonialism brings
about: “They looked beautiful. . .as if made to erase a complicated and
unnecessary idea. I did not know what these flowers were, and so it was a
mystery to me why I wanted to kill them. Just like that. I wanted to kill them.”
(29) The “complication” that Lucy feels is her anger towards the ignorance she
once possessed in her “uncolonized” state: “’Mariah, do you realize that at ten
years of age I had to learn by heart a long poem about some flowers I would not
see in real life until I was nineteen?’”(30) Her ignorance was caused due to her
old identity, her “ignorant” self that was left behind in her homeland when she
migrated. The daffodils represent an identity that she is trying to purge, yet
she feels this is an “unnecessary” idea, prompting the reader to ask why. This
is revealed soon after her feelings of floral murder: “This woman who hardly
knew me loved me, and she wanted me to love this thing . . . that she loved
also.” (30) Something that reminded Lucy of her ignorant state was the object of
affection for a colonizer who attempted to transpose that love onto Lucy. Being
“uncolonized” left Lucy ignorant of beauty, but when a colonizer attempts to
change that idea, Lucy rejects it vehemently. She experiences both purging and
retention, all due to the colonization process.
Lucy appears to be more self-aware than Crusoe is about the psychological
dichotomy that they both experience, which is evidenced by a piercing reflection
early on in the novel. She discusses the fate of a school friend who was
apparently being abused by Satan and fled “across the sea” to escape the
supposed wrath of the lynchpin of evil. After recounting the experience, Lucy
laments: “I thought of this. . .On the one hand there was a girl being beaten by
a man she could not see; on the other there was a girl getting her throat by a
man she could see[in the homeland of the colonizers]” (21) Both Lucy’s former
and current homeland, her former identity and current identity seemingly hold no
solutions for happiness. What should be purged and what should be retained if
neither provide the solution? This question burns throughout Lucy’s mind through
the rest of the book, teetering between purging and retention.
Crusoe and Lucy face a gigantic identity crisis. How does one choose
which portions of which identity to keep? Is there a selection process that one
has to go through or does it boil down to which environment one is placed in?
Colonialization thrusts these issues on both the colonizer and the colonized as
illustrated through the titular characters of their respective works. But the
concept of an identity crisis is not anything new to audiences. In fact, purging
and retention of identity is a rather common facet of human existence.
Shakespeare features Hamlet, a prince who struggles with whether to be the
faithful prince of Denmark or the avenging angel of his father’s ghost.
Beowulf’s identity is divided between the noble hero who fights for his people
and a mercenary, war-like king who fights only for battle and gold. The
previously mentioned examples are from the “canon” of Western literature, which
has been vaulted to the zenith of classroom focus. While the “classics” are an
indispensable part of curriculum, studying these works in dialogue with colonial
literature can prove beneficial. Why not compare Crusoe and Beowulf as flawed,
but noble rulers? Do Lucy and Hamlet share similar feelings? What about Lucy and
Ophelia? These questions are worth considering, which means that colonial and
post-colonial literature has an unquestionable place in the classroom alongside
the “classics.”
The colonial and post-colonial novel are also worth placing in classrooms
simply due to their emphasis on how modernity impacts our view of society as a
whole. Modernity is all around us, the shift from rural to urban, from families
huddling in the same location to being spread apart all but a foregone
conclusion. Today’s students are familiar with modernity, but need a way to
explore it fully, to see whether or not modernity can sustain itself without
tradition or to examine how tradition could possibly counterbalance modernity.
Colonial and post-colonial literature serve as a microcosm of this exploration,
making it the perfect vehicle to engage students hearts and minds in thoughtful
dialogue.
There is a looming psychological dichotomy in colonial and post-colonial
literature. This duality is the constant struggle between purging and retaining
identity, which impacts both the colonizer and the colonized. While Crusoe and
Lucy both grapple with issues of their identity, an instructor can use them to
further discussions of modernity and tradition, of how identity crisis is not an
isolated incident in genre, but rather a universal issue that has affected
humanity and has been written about in other works. In short, the psychological
dichotomy of purging and retention serves as a springboard to explore the larger
question of identity.
Part 3: The Filipinos
As noted earlier in the semester, my mother is from the Philippines and
has told me stories about her experiences growing up in a nation that seemed to
owe most of their success to a heavy American presence post World War Two
(through her own eyes). Coupling my own fascination with the Philippines to this
course proves to be an excellent way to begin a research project I have been
itching to attempt.
I will conduct a survey of Filipino literature and history that will be
divided up into three different areas: the first discovery of the Philippine
islands, the Spanish occupation of the Philippines and the American presence
that once dominated the area. I seek to illustrate how the colonization process
has affected the identity of this complex people and attempt to understand how
their culture today has been impacted by the colonizing of old.
