Chu T’ien-Hsin Identity

“Man of La Mancha” is a first-person narrative in which an unidentified speaker suffers an episode of arrhythmia and passes out. This experience causes an identity crisis that has the narrator obsessing over his future sudden death, how he will be identified, and what his belongings will communicate about who he is. Leaving the clinic and retracing his steps, the speaker becomes acutely aware of the place where he almost fainted. He imagines the reactions of people on the street if he had passed out in that spot, and assumes they would see him as “a beggar, a vagrant, or a mental patient, or maybe someone suffering from the effects of the plague, cholera, or epilepsy” (Chu 1745). Only once he is identified as wearing “more or less respectable attire” (1745) does an old man decide to save him, and ask the questions at the heart of the story: “Who are you? Who should we call? What’s the number?” (1745). The speaker has nothing in his wallet or in his bag that offers any clues as to who he is, and the idea that he could die and wind up an unidentified corpse, held at the city morgue indefinitely, terrifies him. Thinking more and more about the lack of meaningful artifacts left behind in his wallet, the speaker searches for small ways to reinvent himself, or rather, to create a trail of clues that would suggest his identity as more interesting and important than who he thinks he is. This deception is clearly indicated through the title of the story and direct reference to Cervantes’ character, Don Quixote. Chu’s narrator tells multiple stories about how the contents of a wallet, the objects left behind, and even the place a person happens to die can either clearly depict who they are, or completely misrepresent them. But those relics become the person’s identity. And so, rather than focusing on becoming the person he wants to become his legacy, the narrator creates a trail of clues, preparing for his death. The importance of identity in this story is not on who the speaker is, but on who he wants people to think he was when he is gone, while avoiding a legacy that is difficult for his partner to unravel, and not ending up anonymous, figuratively and literally.

Works Cited

Chu T’ien-Hsin. “Man of La Mancha.” The Norton Anthology of World Literature. Edited by Martin Puchner, Shorter 3^rd ed., vol. 2, W.W. Norton & Company, 2013. pp. 1744-1750.

Gilgamesh - What does it mean to be human?

"Gilgamesh" explores what it means to be human through a flawed hero and his relationships with others. Love makes him a better man, but the death of his beloved Enkidu sparks rage, despair, and fear of his own mortality. Gilgamesh searches for everlasting life, but he is a man, and so he fails and must accept that he cannot escape death.

This project is made entirely of recycled fabric scraps.

Gilgamesh

Existence

“The Daydreams of a Drunk Woman” begins with the young woman sitting at her dressing table, combing her hair, gazing at her reflection in the three mirrors: “her eyes did not take themselves off her image, her comb worked pensively, and her open dressing gown revealed in the mirrors the intersected breasts of several women” (Lispector 1555). With this vision, the idea of the woman’s fragmented self-image and questions about the meaning of existence are introduced to the plotless story which is focused on the protagonist’s inner emotional state. “Who am I?” is a key hypothetical question posed by the text. Prompted by seeing the mirror’s reflection, the young woman begins a flirtatious conversation with her images. “’Maria Quiteria, my dear’… ‘And who, might we ask, would she be?’ they insisted gallantly, but now without any expression. ‘You!’ she broke off, slightly annoyed. How boring!” (1556). Maria sees her existence as a wife and mother as dull. Maria scolds herself, “what a lazy bitch you’ve turned out to be” (1557). This self-condemnation answers the hypothetical question: what kind of woman am I?   

Unhappy and angry, Maria is unable to recognize the reason for her unhappiness, except when she is drunk, “and even then she can express her feelings only metaphorically… Disgusted at the thought of being a lobster, a passive object of consumption, the urge to assert herself as an active and autonomous being subsequently produces a different image in her mind” (Muller 38). Maria replaces the lobster image with a scorpion, predatory and dangerous. She tries to see herself as a desirable young woman, but resorts to self-deprecation, labeling herself as a slut, and repeating the insult “What a slovenly, lazy bitch you’ve become” (Lispector 1560). Seeing herself as a failure in the traditional, boring roles women fulfill, Maria’s interior monologues are the only outlet for expressing her unhappiness. Her husband does not listen, interpreting rejection of his advances as illness. She is alone and filled with self-loathing, unable to fuse her fractured self-image into a strong, unified self.

Works Cited

Lispector, Clarice. “The Daydreams of a Drunk Woman.” The Norton Anthology of World Literature. Edited by Martin Puchner, Shorter 3^rd ed., vol. 2, W.W. Norton & Company, 2013. pp. 1555-1560.

Muller, Ingrid R. “The Problematics of the Body in Clarice Lispector's ‘Family Ties.’” Chasqui, vol. 20, no. 1, 1991, pp. 34–42. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/29740322. Accessed 26 July 2020.

Neruda

Latin America’s most important twentieth century poet, Pablo Neruda, was a social justice advocate and important political figure, who “adopted the role of public poet, putting his writing at the service of the people” (Puchner 1421). Neruda is part of the modernist literary movement, which is characterized by breaking away from conventional poetics. Modernists sought new ways to portray the experiences of a rapidly changing human experience that included great technological improvement as well as increasingly destructive weaponry and world war. “Walking Around” exposes urban poverty and suffering, creating an image of the city as desolate, dirty, and filled with suffering.

“Walking Around” shows “the marked influence of surrealism: the surprising juxtapositions, the shocking associations, the pursuit of disordering states of consciousness” (Cosgrove 22). Neruda conveys great sadness and emotional exhaustion with the poem’s opening: “It happens that I am tired of being a man” (1). Walking through the city, the speaker goes into “the tailor’s shops and the movies / all shriveled up, impenetrable, like a felt swan / navigating on a water of origin and ash” (2-4). This is a strange image suggesting that great loss has caused the speaker to withdraw into himself. Felt is made from applying heat, moisture, and agitation to wool, which could symbolize the experiences that have brought the speaker to this place of hopelessness. The water of origin and ash may refer to scientific theories around earth’s formation through collisions with asteroids which would create both water and ash. Swans are beautiful, elegant birds, but here beauty is an illusion.

The speaker talks of death, darkness, and “shivering with dreams” (19) and declares the he does not want “to continue as a root and as a tomb, / as a solitary tunnel, as a cellar full of corpses, stiff with cold, dying with pain” (23-25). Loneliness and suffering are inescapable in this city, where even death is no escape from the “images of shame and horror” (38) that should make a mirror weep, but which society ignores. By the end of the poem, the speaker’s attitude shifts just a little, to include anger, but quickly returns to forgetfulness:

I stride along with calm, with eyes, with shoes,

with fury, with forgetfulness,

I pass, I cross offices and stores full of orthopaedic appliances,

and courtyards hung with clothes on wires,

underpants, towels and shirts which weep

slow dirty tears (40-45).

Ordinary things, like clothes hanging out to dry, convey the hopelessness of Neruda’s poem with their dirty tears. These images reflect the social environment. Even though the speaker sees all that is wrong and reacts with anger to society’s inequity, he quickly forgets and continues walking. “Walking Around” ends with the same hopelessness with which it begins, leaving the reader with a dirty image of urban misery with no hope for change.

Works Cited

Cosgrove, Ciaran. “A Poetry of Unpompous Circumstance.” The Poetry Ireland Review, no. 18/19, 1987, pp. 10–25. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/25576497. Accessed 19 July 2020.

Neruda, Pablo. “Walking Around.” The Norton Anthology of World Literature. Edited by Martin Puchner, Shorter 3^rd ed., vol. 2, W.W. Norton & Company, 2013. pp. 1423-1424.

Puchner, Martin. “Pablo Neruda.”  The Norton Anthology of World Literature. Edited by Martin Puchner, Shorter 3^rd ed., vol. 2, W.W. Norton & Company, 2013. pp. 1421-1422. 

 

Time

Chekhov’s play “The Cherry Orchard” begins with Lopakhin, a former peasant who is now a wealthy merchant, saying: “The train has come, thank God. What time is it?” (Chekhov 922). With this, he introduces the importance of time and change as central themes that are expressed through attention to patterns in nature, sleep, sleeplessness, life, death, and memory. The train, as a mover of things and people, is a symbol of change and progress. Emphasis on time is a reminder that change is inevitable, regardless of action or inaction. The train has come, and time moves on.

Lopakhin has a complicated relationship with time and change, as he is constantly aware of time as an opportunity, of time passing, and of not having enough time. He has a plan to help Liubov get out of debt by selling land, cutting down the orchard, and building vacation homes. Lopakhin feels the pressure of time to take advantage of this opportunity and is unable to understand Liubov’s inability to move forward. From her childhood nursery, she looks out at the white orchard and remembers, “Oh my childhood! My innocence!” (931). She is stuck, clinging to the past glory of her family’s status and wealth, and she remains stuck. Unable to let go or move forward, Liubov “keep[s] waiting for something to happen. It’s as if the house were about to fall down around our ears or something” (938). Despite Lopakhin’s reminders, Liubov does nothing to prevent the auction, and so Lopakhin seizes the opportunity for himself, buying the entire estate. Here he has a moment of sadness, telling Liubov: “you can’t ever go back to the past. Oh, if only we could change things, if only life were different, this unhappy, messy life…” (952). The character most closely connected to progress and change, has this moment of grief that interrupts his exhilaration as ownership of the orchard passes from the aristocracy, to a man whose family they enslaved. He has compassion for Liubov, even as he embraces his opportunities.

Representing the history of Russia, the orchard itself is an important symbol connected to the aristocracy, and each character has a connection to the orchard specifically related to their social and generational position. The play opens with Liubov returning via train to her family’s estate. It is spring, and the cherry trees are blooming. The play ends in the fall when the train takes everyone away from the orchard and the past, to confront their lives in a new era in Russian history. Time is especially pressing in the final act with worries of being late for the train, and references to endings and beginnings. Left behind, Firs dies with his memories in the empty house, a final symbol of change and of time passing. “The Cherry Orchard” ends with the sound of an ax.

Works Cited

Chekhov, Anton. “The Cherry Orchard.” The Norton Anthology of World Literature. Edited by Martin Puchner, Shorter 3^rd ed., vol. 2, W.W. Norton & Company, 2013. pp. 922-960.

Marti and Dario

Puchner describes Whitman as “affirmative, inclusive, energetic, defiant, and radically experimental” (646). His poetry defied conventions, embracing free verse for modern poetic expression. Marti and Dario, both influenced by Whitman, embraced a poetic awakening in their work. Raab asserts: “that Whitman grounded his verse in his American surroundings and that he presents the lyrical ‘I’ as symbiotically connected to the people, landscapes, scenes, or history out of which it emerges greatly appealed to Martí” (Raab 4). Dario adopts a similar approach in “To Roosevelt,” however, his poem is not grounded in ‘I’ as representative of Latin America, but in “you,” identifying Roosevelt as the United States.

Dario channels Whitman in his poetic address to President Roosevelt: “The voice that would reach you, Hunter, must speak / in Biblical tones, or in the poetry of Walt Whitman” (Dario 1-2). Mirroring Whitman’s imagery of landscapes, the body, and nature, he personifies the United States through Roosevelt’s image, as a godless, depraved hunter who is very different from Latin America: “You are the United States / future invader of our naïve America / with its Indian blood, an America / that still prays to Christ and still speaks Spanish” (5-8). Dario hears the U.S. shouting “like the roar of a lion” (Dario 22), drawing from Whitman’s “barbaric yawp” (Whitman 52, 4).  “To Roosevelt” offers a warning to the United States not to underestimate the rich, cultural history and faith of Latin Americans, while celebrating his own heritage.

Marti emulates Whitman’s lyric verse in “I Am an Honest Man.” Just as Whitman is everyman in “Song of Myself,” Marti embodies the spirit, art, and people of Cuba. Whitman begins, “I celebrate myself, and sing myself” (1-2). Similarly, Marti wishes “To fling my verses from my soul. / I come from everywhere / and I am going toward everywhere” (4-6). Intensely emotional, Marti’s poem captures his love of his country through simple landscapes, “where the palm grows” (2), in the herbs and flowers of the land, in the mountains, and vineyards.

Signaling a shift in Latin American poetics, Marti and Dario capture elements of Whitman’s experimental new poetry, adopting images of nature and creating synergy between the people, history, and the land. The arts, especially poetry, become the connectors linking all the parts together.

Works Cited

Dario, Ruben. “To Roosevelt.” The Norton Anthology of World Literature. Edited by Martin Puchner, Shorter 3^rd ed., vol. 2, W.W. Norton & Company, 2013. pp. 693-694.

Marti, Jose. “I Am an Honest Man.” The Norton Anthology of World Literature. Edited by Martin Puchner, Shorter 3^rd ed., vol. 2, W.W. Norton & Company, 2013. pp. 681-682.

Puchner, Martin. “Walt Whitman.”  The Norton Anthology of World Literature. Edited by Martin Puchner, Shorter 3^rd ed., vol. 2, W.W. Norton & Company, 2013. pp. 646-647. 

Raab, Josef. “El Gran Viejo: Walt Whitman in Latin America.” CLCWeb: Comparative Literature and Culture, vol. 3, no. 2, June 2001. doi:10.7771/1481-4374.1122.

Whitman, Walt. From “Song of Myself.” The Norton Anthology of World Literature. Edited by Martin Puchner, Shorter 3^rd ed., vol. 2, W.W. Norton & Company, 2013. pp. 648-653.

An Essay on Man

In An Essay on Man, Pope offers a theodicy, arguing a philosophical position of belief in a divinely ordered universe that allows for the existence of evil and seeming disorder in the world. Elements of Pope’s argument include the great chain theory, the limited perspective of human beings in comparison to divine perspective, and the arrogance of humanity to question God’s perfect creation. Pope’s approach is unconvincing because he fails to offer any real evidence to support his argument.

Pope references the 18^th century belief in the Great Chain of Being which places all elements of the universe in a hierarchical structure with God at the top of the chain. “Where, one step broken, the great scale’s destroyed: / From Nature’s chain whatever link you strike, / Tenth or ten thousandth, breaks the chain alike” (244-246). Any disruption to the chain, as ordered in God’s plan, is enough to destroy the entire system. Man, according to Pope, occupies the exact place in the chain that he is supposed to occupy. Any movement brings chaos.

Man’s perspective is limited, which Pope asserts is as it should be. “Tis but a part we see, and not a whole. / …His knowledge measured to his state and place; / His time a moment, and a point his space” (60, 71-72).  What man perceives as discordant and evil, from a divine point of view, exists as harmony and universal good. Man cannot see with God’s eye, but “hope springs eternal in the human breast” (95), and this limited perspective allows man to have hope for the future.

Invoking man’s arrogance and pride, Pope chides humanity for questioning the divine order, God’s perfect creation, or his place within that creation. The argument here is that God is perfect and “one truth is clear, Whatever is, is right” (294). Divinely ordered, the universe exists according to a plan that man is in no position to question.

Pope’s arguments that allow for evil and chaos in a divinely ordered universe are not convincing. Mosley suggests “Pope’s problem is that he wants to look at the entire universe, and so he performs his analysis metonymically and synecdotally, casting metaphors by looking at the human body and at storms, by looking at stars and passions, making all of these changes of scale analogous” (180). Pope’s approach is to “vindicate the ways of God to man” (16) but he is unable to accomplish this task. Arguments that rely heavily on man’s arrogance and limited perspective, in contrast to God’s perfection, fail to provide convincing evidence for theodicy.

Works Cited

Mosley, George. “Alexander Pope’s Essay on Man and Tribunalization.” Journal of the Georgia Philological Association, 2008, pp. 176–183.

Pope, Alexander. An Essay on Man. The Norton Anthology of World Literature. Edited by Martin Puchner, Shorter 3^rd ed., vol. 2, W.W. Norton & Company, 2013. pp. 90-97.