Alexander Pope's An Essay on Man navigates the issue of theodicy articulately, concluding that man's situation is intended for him to have enough pleasure to enjoy life and enough ignorance to be unaware of larger worries that would detract from the joy of living. The issue with his argument is that it is predicated upon a universal creator, an assertion which is assumed but never proven. If we challenge the existence of a creator, the question of theodicy falls more to the uncaring aspect of nature. Death, deformity, pain, ailments--it all becomes less orderly without a larger creator and plan.
Pope begins his essay with the assertion "that man is not to be deemed imperfect, but a being suited to his place and rank in the creation, agreeable to the general order of things, and conformable to ends and relations to him unknown, [...]. That it is partly upon his ignorance of future events, and partly upon the hope of a future state, that all his happiness in the present state depends" (90). Given his assertion, it is clear that Pope believes in larger order and plan, than man is created fittingly for his role, and that this status, along with lack of greater knowledge, is intended to enable man to enjoy the present (as the future is unknowable, and ultimately leads to death). Pope criticizes "the pride of aiming at more knowledge, and pretending to more perfection, the cause of man's error and misery," which refers to not only growing study in technical and medical sciences, but also relates back to the Garden of Eden, or as Pope writes, "Garden, tempting with forbidden fruit" (Pope 90). In reaching to know more, Pope argues that man is "presumptuous" and in lamenting one's state, we should "say not Man's imperfect, Heave in fault/ Say rather, Man's as perfect as he ought" (Pope 91-92). Continually Pope relies upon an unknown cosmic order as justification for being satisfied with one's status; questioning this role is offensive to the great creator and shows the small-sightedness of man. One could argue, contingent upon belief in a creator, that striving to know more of the world and our place is just striving to be closer to that creator, like Plato's focus on the realm of Forms.
Ultimately, Pope provides direction based upon a secular belief rather than logic. Contentedness is not based upon believing in God, but rather focusing on the positive. People do not have to be lambs protected from knowledge of slaughter; we are all aware of our mortality and thus strive to enjoy life as best we can. That we are unaware of when we die suggests the randomness of life, just as much as an unknowable creator's larger plan.
Sunday, June 19, 2016
Sunday, June 12, 2016
de Navarre
Marguerite de Navarre challenged beliefs that were accepted
based upon tradition rather than logic or morality. The dominance of men over
women as well as the devaluation of lower classes were two perspectives she
questions through her work, The
Heptameron. In the prologue, there is a drawn out conversation, full of
social conventions including praising one’s elders and the bawdiness between
man and wife, as well as the practices which encourage morality. Lady Oisille
represents the mature and pious opinion that daily studying of scriptures and
prayer should occupy the group’s time. The masculine perspective then is
shared, when Hircan asserts “bear in mind that we have not yet become so
mortified in the flesh that we are not in need of some sort of amusement and
physical exercise” (de Navarre 1641). The interplay between the subdued
feminine pursuits and virility and power of masculine needs conveys
conventional gender stereotypes. However, in the story that ensues, the dangers
of masculine vigor and feminine plotting become apparent. Moreover, the
silliness of the duplicity between man and wife suggests that those of a higher
class are no less flawed than their counterparts of other classes.
From the outset of the story, unequal
expectations between men and women are made clear. The reader learns that the
man Bornet “wanted […his wife] to be faithful to him, but was not so keen on
having the rule applied to them both equally” (de Navarre1643). He pursues the
chambermaid, who rebuffs his advances. The chambermaid, representing the lower
class, not only avoids being a mistress but also tells her lady of the
situation. In return she becomes a pawn in the lady’s plan to trick her
husband. Bornet views the chambermaid as a sexual object; the mistress treats
her as a means to an end. Ultimately, the story ends with the maid being the
most moral character. The lady of the house assumes the sleeping quarters of
the chambermaid, having developed a plot to teach her husband a lesson. Both he
and his wife are disgraced when she comes to be shared with his friend, and he
recognizes “he had gone and given himself a cuckold’s horns and made himself
look ridiculous for evermore” (de Navarre 1645). Marguerite de Navarre is
considered a champion for those who operate outside of conventional roles or
thought, and her work confirms this assertion. Though the wife technically
commits adultery, her husband owns the blame for this and a lesson is made of
him. His physical desires were base and degraded not only his wife but also himself.
The wife seems silly and unfortunate, but her active role is still admirable,
despite the undesirable outcome. However, the chambermaid emerges as the most
moral character, having avoided the husband’s advances and still retained the
trust of her lady. Still, the entire scene is not entirely satisfactory: the
chambermaid has little human value given her role in arranging the tryst; the
wife is debased and somewhat foolish; the husband is aware of his failings and
is not only a lecher but the cause of his own grief as a cuckold.
Sunday, June 5, 2016
Sunjata
Embedded within the Mande culture is a focus on the oral tradition. While this is a mode of preserving culture, it also leads to adaptation and perhaps variations in the story. Considering the work "Sunjata: A West African Epic," the origin of the bride carrying tradition is explained, though it perhaps has changed or has alternative meanings in other cultures.
The maltreatment of Sogolon Conde is indicative of the shallowness and pettiness of focusing on outer appearance. Those escorting her to her groom are concerned that she will get dust on them and so entreat her "Walk well./ Do not put us in the dust;" however, upon realizing she cannot alter her walking, they decide to carry her ("Sunjata" lns. 761-762). Without context, the act of carrying someone seems humble and generous; the motives based upon the tale seem selfish. As the wives carry Sogolon Conde, her head wrap falls off, exposing her bald head, and this leads to more ridicule. The wives sign "heron-head," and the reader is told "this offended Sogolon Conde" ("Sunjata" 782. 784). Similar to the antiquated idea that marriage is the submission of woman's will to her husband, being carried to the marriage mimics this loss of volition. Additionally, the communal aspect of participating in the marriage reinforces the sense that marriages are a social event; though the union is between two people, it involves the community. Similar to oral history, the community must be involved to sustain the tradition.
Another cultural wedding tradition is that of handfasting, typically attributed to Celtic origin. There is symbolism in the tying of hands to bond two into one; the difference is that in earlier times this could be seen as a trial union, one where after a year and a day, the couple could either continue together or part ways. Handfasting is more like a transaction or business deal whereby the couple enters into an understanding with terms and conditions. Traditional unions are intended to be permanent, however the potential for couples to re-evaluate their relationship seems surprisingly modern. Alternately, there is a potential for the more negative perception of the fallen woman, if she is united to a man and then left after intimacy. Culture has evolved to the point that this stigma is far lessened, but one can only question how the woman would fare after breaking the union during the early times of handfasting.
The maltreatment of Sogolon Conde is indicative of the shallowness and pettiness of focusing on outer appearance. Those escorting her to her groom are concerned that she will get dust on them and so entreat her "Walk well./ Do not put us in the dust;" however, upon realizing she cannot alter her walking, they decide to carry her ("Sunjata" lns. 761-762). Without context, the act of carrying someone seems humble and generous; the motives based upon the tale seem selfish. As the wives carry Sogolon Conde, her head wrap falls off, exposing her bald head, and this leads to more ridicule. The wives sign "heron-head," and the reader is told "this offended Sogolon Conde" ("Sunjata" 782. 784). Similar to the antiquated idea that marriage is the submission of woman's will to her husband, being carried to the marriage mimics this loss of volition. Additionally, the communal aspect of participating in the marriage reinforces the sense that marriages are a social event; though the union is between two people, it involves the community. Similar to oral history, the community must be involved to sustain the tradition.
Another cultural wedding tradition is that of handfasting, typically attributed to Celtic origin. There is symbolism in the tying of hands to bond two into one; the difference is that in earlier times this could be seen as a trial union, one where after a year and a day, the couple could either continue together or part ways. Handfasting is more like a transaction or business deal whereby the couple enters into an understanding with terms and conditions. Traditional unions are intended to be permanent, however the potential for couples to re-evaluate their relationship seems surprisingly modern. Alternately, there is a potential for the more negative perception of the fallen woman, if she is united to a man and then left after intimacy. Culture has evolved to the point that this stigma is far lessened, but one can only question how the woman would fare after breaking the union during the early times of handfasting.
Sunday, May 29, 2016
Bashō
https://youtu.be/zXvzgR3A9_I
Considering
the video attached, the juxtaposition of images with the poems of Bashō
serve several functions. Similar to the straightforward and simple language,
the images are flat and linear. There is color and detail, but in a traditional
style. Additionally, the images are of everyday life, mirroring the pattern of
activities in the work. In some cases, the images relate directly to the words,
including a woman touching her hair and workers in a rice field. Then the words
become more abstract, describing “the air of a century past.” Images have a
nostalgic simplicity, especially from a modern perspective, highlighting the
simplistic beauty of life. There is a sense of industry, in ships and fields,
mirroring the sentiment that the cicadas are unaware they will soon die.
Similarly, humans work through the seasons, planning and reaping, working
through daily life only to die. In contrast with the vitality of spring and
summer, the mood shifts when “on a darkening sea/ the voices of wild ducks/ are
faint and white.” Subsequent images indicate transition into later seasons,
reinforced by the admission that “cherry blossom viewing/ has ended.” There is
gradually less color, mimicking the fall and winter seasons. Blue abounds,
suggesting the elegiac tone. Early in the
video, there is an image of an elderly man; at the end, a winding trail leading
into the horizon. Both suggest the perspective of the speaker and segue into
the next stage of life. As with the cycle of nature, life has an ebb and flow
which leads to death.
Sunday, May 22, 2016
Classic of Poetry
The Classic of Poetry, whose
order and canonization is attributed to Confucius, compiles poems meant to
offer not just example of the time’s writing style but works which allow “individuals
in society to cultivate their moral virtue and thus contribute to social order”
(756). In addition to the lessons on nature, there are moral perspectives meant
to enlighten and educate the reader, as well as serve to bridge communication
between classes. However, inspection of the works “XX. Plums are Falling” and “LXIV.
Quince” creates more questions about the lessons within. Both works are
connected by their treatment of women and relation to food. The element of
plums, quince, and peaches serve as reminder of the reproductive abilities of
women—in the same way that food sustains life, women give birth to life.
Additionally, the cycle of growth and harvesting mirror the life cycle and
fertility cycle for women.
In the first poem, “Plums are Falling,” the speaker
begins with a bounty of fruits which seems to mimic the many suitors available.
Abundance indicates youth and vitality, and so the speaker’s discretion is
based upon appearance, as she wants a “fine” man (ln. 4). When anything is plentiful,
the naïve mode of selection is based upon which item looks best; the same is
true of picking between suitors. In the second stanza, there is less bounty.
The reader is told “three are the fruits” and the speaker shares though “many
men want me,/ let me have a steady one” (“Plums” 6-8). Later in the season, the
selection is smaller; discretion dictates to choose the soundest option. Possibly,
the speaker has gained wisdom and values depth of character above appearance. The
final stanza offers more trouble for understanding the moral of the poem, for “Plums
are falling,/ catch them in a basket;/ many men want me,/ let me be bride of
one” (“Plums” 9-12). In attitude, the speaker has moved from an active
selection of suitor to a passive role, which is befitting traditional gender
roles for women. There are no more numbers given for how many fruit abound, but
they must be caught—this indicates a dearth that, when coupled with the speaker’s
desire to have anyone, suggests a
later season in life. A sense of settling seems anticlimactic and contrary to
the modern ideals of love in marriage, but suggests resignation to the sense of
duty and powerlessness in antiquated womens’ roles. What is meant to be
gratitude and humility at being selected for marriage in modern evaluation is
apathy and dispassion.
A similar disconnect appears in “LXIV.
Quince.” This speaker is male, discussing the exchange between himself and a
woman. She gives him fruit, which he repays with a jewel, and concludes “it was
no equal return./ but by this love will last” (“Quince” lns. 3-4). From one
perspective, a priceless jewel seems a steep price for a piece of fruit;
however, the concept of the fruit as sustenance and life-giving is not to be
underestimated in value. The exchange between man and woman is depicted thus:
woman imparts a natural gift, one which provides life; in exchange, man pays a
great price. Yet somehow this sustains love. Archetypally, the man is the
financial provider; woman maintains the home and births children. The speaker
repeats “by this love will last,” but the unequal exchange is troubling. Gifts
of food and life are temporal but nourishing and emotionally charged. Gifts of
jewelry, while enduring, are cold and typically made by another. Given the restructuring
and gradual erosion of gender roles, the exchange does not seem to sustain
love; rather, it seems transactional. The morality and virtues of such a system
are then called into question.
From a modern perspective, the moral
values of the Classic of Poetry are
sexist and the prescription for heterosexual relationships is flawed.
Abandoning emotion and feeling, though on the surface, logical, robs
relationships of their most valuable component: passion. While passion is
complicated and may cause disagreements, it provides depth and vibrancy to
life.
Works
Cited
Akbari, Suzanne, et. al. “Classic of
Poetry.” The Norton Anthology of World Literature. Gen. ed. Martin Puchner.
3rd ed. Vol. 1. New York: Norton, 2012. 756-759. Print.
“LXIV. Quince.” The Norton
Anthology of World Literature. Gen.
ed. Martin Puchner. 3rd ed. Vol.
1. New York: Norton, 2012. 762. Print.
“XX. Plums Are Falling.” The Norton Anthology of World
Literature. Gen. ed. Martin Puchner.
3rd ed. Vol. 1. New York: Norton, 2012. 760. Print.
Sunday, May 15, 2016
Somadeva
The role of disguise in
relationships between men and women is neither new nor simple to understand.
When women in literary works take on a disguise, it is largely to
manipulate the opposite gender, which suggests both the power of the masculine
as well as the subordinate perception of what is feminine. Femininity is
overtly sexualized, which can be a distraction from objectives and even
potentially dangerous to the woman. Somadeva's work, "The Red Lotus of
Chastity" from Kathāsaritsāgara, is one such example of the use of
disguise. Women conceal their true identities multiple times in order to
manipulate situations and achieve their desired goals.
For the heroine of the story, this
is done for restorative justice and to protect her chastity--both of which are
sympathetic reasons to the reader. The nun and her pupil, however, use disguise
for diversion or personal gain. The first introduction to women in disguise
comes from Yogakaraṇdikā’s recount of how she and her pupil amassed great fortune. Her
protégée posed as a servant and upon gaining the trust of her employer, stole
his wealth. She then tricks those who chase her through additional deception,
eventually escaping with the great wealth. Though suspicious, a drummer who
follows her, upon learning she plans to commit suicide, assists her in tying
the noose. Rather than showing concern for her plight, the drummer is in favor
of her choice. Such as unusual reaction to admission of planned suicide
emphasizes the nature of relationships between men and women; they are
transactional in many ways. For this reason, as the perceived weaker sex, women
use deception and disguise.
The nun implements disguise in her
attempts to tarnish Devasmitā’s reputation.
When four men learn of the lotus and chastity pledge, they travel to the nun
seeking to test Devasmitā. The nun disguises
herself to gain Devasmitā’s trust
and tells stories which normalize promiscuity. Yogakaraṇdikā advises "I carried on with other men as I pleased, to
avoid frustrating the sense and element. Our highest duty, you know, is to
yield to the demands of sense and element" (Somadeva 1277). While a nun is
typified as a pillar of morality, in disguising herself, Yogakaraṇdikā
avoids this schema to appear conspiratorial or more relatable. Her story is
intended to encourage Devasmitā to give in
to sensuality, but instead prompts Devasmitā to become guarded. A disguise is then implemented when one
of Devasmitā’s maids
assumes her identity to greet the man sent by Yogakaraṇdikā. These men are then branded, which can be concealed but
never fully disguised.
The final deception occurs when Devasmitā
poses as a merchant to travel safely
to her husband. Not only does this offer protection for her virtue, but also
places her into a role of power. She approaches the king and requests to speak
to the people, where she reveals the insidious plot of the merchants’ sons. It
is only in this disguise that Devasmitā is fully able to expose and shame the four men, who
previously concealed their brands with turbans. While disguised as a man, Devasmitā
is able to act in public which also
indicates the social perception of men as leaders and public figures, versus
the domestic sphere of women. In the public revelation of the plot, Devasmitā
also gains recompense, in receiving “a
large ransom to free the four from bondage” (Somadeva 1279). The role reversal
of being in control of the men’s lives suggests the power initiated in the
masculine disguise; while in the guise of a man, she lays claim to them as her slaves
and sites their brands as proof.
Works Cited
Somadeva. “The Red Lotus of Chastity”. Kathāsaritsāgara. The Norton Anthology of World Literature. Gen. ed. Martin Puchner.
3rd ed. Vol. 1. New York :
Norton, 2012. 1274-79. Print.
Sunday, May 1, 2016
Bio
Victoria Eshghy is a graduate student of Tiffin University's Master of Humanities program. Her concentration is English, with a special focus on Young Adult Literature and Postmodernism; she obtained her Bachelor of Arts degree in English from Bridgewater College. While not working on her Master's degree, Victoria plays guitar and ukulele, enjoys cooking, and relaxing with her husband. Victoria intends to pursue teaching at the collegiate level upon completion of her degree program.
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