Irving Howe's "At the Center of Hardy's Achievement"

For this blog I will be focusing on one essay in particular: Irving Howe’s “Tess of the d’Urbervilles—At the Center of Hardy’s Achievement”.  A major theme in his essay is the protection and defense of women.  How opens his essay with “Thomas Hardy was endowed with a precious gift:  he liked women.”(Howe 406)  He acknowledges that some readers may not like Hardy’s novel and the way he chose to write it, and claims that Hardy himself is a character in the novel, which serves the role of the omniscient narrator who “does not care to pass judgment on his characters.”(407) Howe comes full circle to this observation in the end of his essay when he brings into discussion the idea of Hardy placing himself in the novel to watch over her, “like a stricken father.  He is as tender to Tess as Tess is to the world.  Tender; and helpless.”(422) Howe really stresses in this essay that Hardy is a talented author, but that the “secondary characters” have just as much to say and could serve just as much of a purpose as Tess herself, but that Hardy does not give them the opportunity to do so, particularly in his omniscient role, which is why he stresses the “helpless” in his character.

            I think it’s really refreshing to hear from a critic who is defensive of the author while acknowledging the current criticism surrounding their work; Howe even identifies some of Hardy’s faults, in his writing, such as the plainness of the plot, and it’s similarity to the popular literature at the time.  He says, “As for the plot, it seems in isolation a paltry thing, a mere scraping together of bits and pieces from popular melodrama:  a pure girl betrayed, a woman’s secret to be told or hidden, a piling on of woes that must strain the resources of ordinary credence.”(409)  Howe’s criticism is mingled in with his praise of Hardy’s work, which definitely an indication that he can understand that Hardy has imperfections in his work, but it can also be “one of the greatest examples we have in English literature of how a writer can take hold of a cultural stereotype and, through the sheer intensity of his affection, pare and purify it into something that is morally ennobling.”(408) I can really appreciate the opinion of a critic when they not only present the reasons they support an author’s work, but they also acknowledge its imperfections, and Howe does exactly this in his essay.

Critical Essays on Thomas Hardy's "Tess of the D'Urbervilles"

The three critical receptions that I will be looking at for this blog in regards to Thomas Hardy’s Tess of the D’Urbervilles are “From The Illustrated London News (January 9, 1892)” by Clementina Black, “From The Saturday Review (January 16, 1892)”, and “From The Spectator (January 23 1892)”, by R. H. Hutton.  Black’s article makes the claim that, “Mr. Hardy’s story, like Diana of the Crossways, is founded on a recognition of the ironic truth which we all know in our hearts, and are all forbidden to say aloud, that the richest kind of womanly nature, the most direct, sincere, and passionate, is the most liable to be caught in that sort of pitifall which social convention stamps as an irretrievable discgrace.”(Black 383)  The author of the excerpt from The Saturday Review of Janurary 16, 1892 makes the more critical claim that “The story gains nothing by the reader being let into the secret of the physical attributes which especially fascinated [Alec D’Urberville] in Tess.”(383) Hutton’s article in The Spectator argues that “to illustrate his conviction that not only is there no Providence guiding individual men and women in the right way, but that, in many cases at least, there is something like a malign fate which draws them out of the right way into the wrong way.”(Hutton 384)

 I would personally disagree with the post in The Saturday Review when he says later in the article that, “Mr. Hardy, it must be conceded, tells an unpleasant story in a very unpleasant way.”(384) Although I don’t particularly like Tess’ character, I really enjoy the story, and I think Hardy tells it beautifully.  Another point I disagree with in The Saturday Review article is the claim that “The story gains nothing by the reader being let into the secret of physical attributes which especially fascinated [Alec D’Urberville] in Tess. […] It is these side suggestions that render Mr. Hardy’s story so very disagreeable, and Tess is full of them.”(384) I think that the vivid descriptions of Tess’ appearance are necessary, as to understand her allure.  I agree with Black’s claim form earlier in the article that “The conventional reader wishes to be excited, but not to be disturbed,”(383).  However, I disagree with her claim that the “conventional” reader “detests unhappy endings, mainly because an unhappy ending nearly always involves an indirect appeal to the conscience,”(383).  I think that unhappy endings are more realistic, and far easier to believe that life is hard, and in that death is inevitable in the end.  

Contemporary Criticisms on George Eliot's "Middlemarch"

The “Contemporary Reviews” of George Eliot’s Middlemarch that can be found in the Norton Critical Edition of the novel were written shortly after the release of the novel in its eight parts.  The Saturday Review, “Middlemarch” applauds Eliot’s portrayal of her characters, particularly those of Dorothea, Celia, and Casaubon but notes some flaws as well.  This particular review argues that “The quarrel with humanity in Middlemarch is its selfishness, and the quarrel with society is its hollow respectability.  Human nature and society are hard things to defend; but care for self up to a point is not identical with selfishness; and respectability which pays its way and conducts itself with external propriety is not hollow in any peculiar sense.”(573) Another review, by Sidney Colvin claims that, “In the sense in which anything is called ripe because of fullness and strength, I think the last of George Eliot’s novels is also the ripest.  Middlemarch is extraordinarily full and strong, even among the company to which it belongs”(576) Colvin enthusiastically praises the novel with his colorful language.  A critic who also praises the novel, but more harshly points out its flaws is Henry James in his essay, “George Eliot’s Middlemarch”.  James states that, “Middlemarch is a treasurehouse of details, but it is an indifferent whole.”(578) James complains that “our objection may seem shallow and pedantic, and may even be represented as a complaint that we have had the less given us rather than the more.”(578)

In comparison to Mary Barton, Middlemarch seems rather anticlimactic.  I couldn’t quite figure out why this was so frustrating until I read Henry James’ review; the novel describes Middlemarch, its inhabitants, as well as their lives so well, that as a reader, I hoped for something more exciting to happen.  However, a plot that holds so much potential, (with its mysterious Bulstrode and jealous Casaubon, for example) sort of flat lines through the whole story.  Another frustrating thing to note is the way that Eliot really builds up Dorothea’s character to this beautiful, strong, pious, character, but does nothing with that.  James remarks on this, saying that “A work of the liberal scope of Middlemarch contains a multitude of artistic intentions, some of the finest of which become clear only in the meditative after-taste of perusal.”(580)  I think that Middlemarch could have been much more exciting and captivating, had Eliot given her characters more of a purpose.

A History of George Eliot and "Middlemarch"

          For this particular blog, focusing on the histories of both George Eliot, (Mary Evans Lewes) and Middlemarch, I chose to look at several sources, including an excerpt from Eliot’s essay, “The Natural History of German Life”, a letter from Eliot’s husband, George Henry Lewes to her publisher, John Blackwood, as well as two letters from Eliot to fellow writer, Harriet Beecher Stowe.  The excerpt from Eliot’s focuses on the morality in art and claims, “All the more sacred is the task of the artist when he undertakes to paint the life of the People.”(Eliot, 520) The letter from George Lewes to John Blackwood gives readers insight as to why the novel was originally published in eight parts, and that “Each part would have a certain unity and completeness in itself with separate title.  Thus the work is called Middlemarch.  Part 1 will be Miss Brooke.”(Lewes, 532) Eliot’s first letter to Stowe talks of how Dorothea’s husband, Mr. Casaubon is not related to her own husband, George Lewes, and that she does “not for a moment imagine that Dorothea’s marriage experience is drawn from my own.  Impossible to conceive any creature less like Mr. Casaubon than my warm, enthusiastic husband, who cares much more for my doing than for his own, and is a miracle of freedom from all author’s jealousy and all suspicion.”(Eliot, 534) In Eliot’s second, and very brief letter to Stowe, she asks whether or not Stowe agrees with her that “there is one comprehensive Church whose fellowship consists in the desire to purify and ennoble human life”(Eliot, 535).

            Eliot’s claim that “we want to be taught to feel, not for the heroic artisan or the sentimental peasant, but for the peasant in all his coarse apathy and the artisan in all his suspicious selfishness”(Eliot, 520) goes along with the fact that her characters in Middlemarch aren’t particularly heroic, but that they are rather plain folk, and the protagonist of this novel, Dorothea Brooke’s main desire is to become a scholar, and to help others.  Lewes’ letter to Blackwood contains the background of Middlemarch, and the motives behind writing the novel in eight parts, that can be complete while read alone, yet cohesive when read consecutively.  As for the letters to Stowe, we can see Eliot’s justification for the way she created her characters like Casaubon; that she created him almost as a complete opposite from her husband, one who supports her ambitions, whereas Casaubon didn’t with Dorothea.  Dorothea’s character is extremely Protestant, and when she moves to Rome with her husband, her expectations are crushed.  As Rome is the center for Catholicism, it is almost painful for her to be somewhere where papal authority has such an obviously strong presence.  In Eliot’s second letter to Stowe, she asks whether or not she agrees that there is a church, whose followers are brought together by the need to make one leader (presumably the Pope) a noble figure.  This letter was written the same year that Middlemarch was first published, so it is likely that Eliot received criticism regarding the religious views that are presented in her work, and she is trying to justify it.

Blog #2: More Criticisms on "Mary Barton"

            The two criticisms that I chose to look at for this blog are Rosemarie Bodenheimer’s “Private Grief and Public Acts in Mary Barton” and Patsy Stoneman’s “The Feminization of Working-Class Men in Mary Barton”.  Bodenheimer makes the claim that “Mary Barton is a novel about responding to the grief of loss or disappointment.  Its pages are filled with domestic disaster; the sheer accumulation of one misfortune after another is the organizing principle of the first half of the narrative.”(510) Her essay criticizes Gaskell’s “technical discontinuities” and ”apparently artless repetition”.  While Bodenheimer chooses to look at Gaskell’s writing inconsistencies and faults, Stoneman chooses to leave the criticism of the author herself to the side and look more at past criticisms themselves.  Stoneman argues that critics too often “deplore the presence of ‘extraneous factors’ such as the love story and the murder plot”(543) Stoneman urges critics to “approach the novel through the ethics of the family, therefore, we do not detract from its value as an exploration of class-relations, but instead of seeing it as an ‘industrial novel’ flawed by political naivety and superfluous sub-plots, we can see it as an attempt to understand the interaction of class and gender.”(544)

            I personally did not notice in Mary Barton what Bodenheimer refers to as “the transitions from dramatized scene to narrative summary [that] are awkward and abrupt”(512) I thought that the novel was one that could be read with ease.  I do, however, agree that the novel depicts one personal tragedy after another, and I’d venture to say that most readers generally do too.  In regards to Stoneman’s essay, I really enjoyed the different approach to Mary Barton.  The criticisms relating to Gaskell’s inconsistencies in her writing seem redundant at this point, and the approach of looking at the paternal behavior of the characters to understand the class war was rather refreshing.  Looking at this behavior shines light on the basis of some of the characters’ seemingly rash decisions.  For instance, John Barton is so passionate about punishing the mill owners not only because he is angry that he is losing pay, but one of his greatest fears is that Mary will have to work in the factory, which he will absolutely not have.  Using this approach, we can come to understand that some of the decisions (such as the millworkers conspiring to kill the mill owners) were made in an effort to protect one another. 

Analyzing Critical Reviews of "Mary Barton"

Summary:

            The three reviews I chose to look at were Henry Fothergill Chorley’s Athenaeum (1848), John Forster’s Examiner (1848), and a short piece from Christian Teacher by an anonymous author, titled The Mutual Dependence of Men in a Social State (1844).  Chorley believes that the story is written in a very simply and that “the events of the tale are of the commonest quality”(365) In Forster’s Examiner, he appears to think highly of the novel and says that it is “a story of unusual beauty and merit.  It has a plan and powerful interest, a good and kind purpose, and a style which derives its charm from the writer’s evident sincerity.”(367) Although the excerpt from Christian Teacher was not written exclusively in review of Mary Barton, it provides useful insight into a major theme in Mary Barton—that someone will always gain from the work done by another, and it most often happens that those doing the work gain much less than those who don’t.  The excerpt opens with: “The saying, ‘one man soweth and another reapeth,’ has been applicable to the condition of mankind in all ages, and will doubtless continue to be so to the end of time.”(419)

Analysis:

            The focus of my analysis will be on the simplicity of the novel, in all aspects.  Although the characters in this novel are far from underdeveloped, they lead simple lives, which is ultimately the cause of Mary’s unhappiness.  The millworkers don’t lead exceptionally thrilling lives, and despite the luxuries they enjoy, neither do the mill owners and their families.  The millworkers work to provide for the families and the mill owners reap the benefits.  This ties into the excerpt by the anonymous author, regarding the idea that “it is scarcely possible for any man to live altogether to himself—to labour for his own benefit alone—to sow in such a manner that no other human being shall reap the harvest.”(420) This is a major theme in the novel, and it is so uncomplicated, but in the end, the simplicity is what causes all of the chaos and conflict.  I don’t think that the plainness of the novel and the lives of its characters is necessarily a bad thing, as some of the most beautiful creations are the most simple, and in the end, the simple lives and the desire to have more than the ordinary is what builds the novel’s conflicts in the end.

The Invalidation of "The Canonization"

THE CANONIZATION.
by John Donne

FOR God's sake hold your tongue, and let me love ;
    Or chide my palsy, or my gout ;
    My five gray hairs, or ruin'd fortune flout ;
With wealth your state, your mind with arts improve ;
        Take you a course, get you a place, 
        Observe his Honour, or his Grace ;
Or the king's real, or his stamp'd face 
    Contemplate ; what you will, approve, 
    So you will let me love.

Alas ! alas ! who's injured by my love? 
    What merchant's ships have my sighs drown'd?
    Who says my tears have overflow'd his ground? 
When did my colds a forward spring remove? 
        When did the heats which my veins fill 
        Add one more to the plaguy bill?
Soldiers find wars, and lawyers find out still 
    Litigious men, which quarrels move, 
    Though she and I do love.

Call's what you will, we are made such by love ; 
    Call her one, me another fly,
    We're tapers too, and at our own cost die, 
And we in us find th' eagle and the dove. 
        The phoenix riddle hath more wit 
        By us ; we two being one, are it ;
So, to one neutral thing both sexes fit. 
    We die and rise the same, and prove 
    Mysterious by this love.

We can die by it, if not live by love, 
    And if unfit for tomb or hearse
    Our legend be, it will be fit for verse ; 
And if no piece of chronicle we prove, 
        We'll build in sonnets pretty rooms ; 
        As well a well-wrought urn becomes
The greatest ashes, as half-acre tombs, 
    And by these hymns, all shall approve 
    Us canonized for love ;

And thus invoke us, "You, whom reverend love 
    Made one another's hermitage ;
    You, to whom love was peace, that now is rage ;
Who did the whole world's soul contract, and drove 
        Into the glasses of your eyes ;
        So made such mirrors, and such spies,
That they did all to you epitomize—
    Countries, towns, courts beg from above 
    A pattern of your love."

            “The Canonization” by John Donne is a poem that was originally published in the first edition of Songs and Sonnets in 1633, two years after the poet’s death in 1631. “The Canonization” was written during a period of time in Donne’s life when he was obsessed with his wife, and believed that no other world existed outside that which they shared.  The title of the poem is a preview for readers as to the content of the poem itself.  To canonize is to glorify; a canonization is an act in which the church declares a deceased person to be a saint.  Donne’s choice to title this poem “The Canonization” suggests that he is comparing his love affair with his wife to be saintly.  The speaker in the poem is trying to defend his love from the unnamed complainers of the poem.  The speaker tries to show that his love affects no one but his love and himself by saying “who’s injured by my love?/What merchant’s ships have my sighs drown’d?/Who says my tears have overflow’d his ground?”(“The Canonization, 10-12)  The speaker is trying to tell whatever unnamed complainer to leave him alone and let him love, and to direct his complaints elsewhere, as his love does no harm to anyone else.  “For God’s sake hold your tongue, and let me love; […] Take you a course, get you a place,/Observe his Honour, or his Grace;/

Or the king’s real, or his stamp’d face/Contemplate; what you will, approve,/So you will let me love.”(1,5-9)

            The title of the poem would lead readers unfamiliar with the poem to believe that the poem is saint-oriented, but the first line, “For God’s sake hold your tongue” makes the poem seem a bit blasphemous.  The fact that the poem is titled “The Canonization”, something that is most commonly associated with the process of becoming a saint, and most certainly what Donne what trying to achieve, makes the poem’s title itself seem wrong. It seems that in giving the poem such a religiously associated title, thus creating committing such blasphemy, Donne invalidated his love’s saintly comparison.

Madness in Hamlet (Repost)

Madness in Hamlet

            There is very much debate surrounding William Shakespeare’s famous tragedy, Hamlet.  A very common theme in this debate is the title character’s madness.  In the play itself, Hamlet’s madness is comes about in the early scenes, when he decides to create a ruse so that none of the characters will believe that he is any threat to the king’s life.  Hamlet includes his friend, Horatio in on his scheme but cautions him, “Here, as before, never, so help you mercy/How strange or odd soe’er I bear myself/(As I perchance hereafter shall think meet/To put an antic disposition on),/That you, at such times seeing me, never shall—/[…] to note that you aught of me.”(Hamlet, I.V.171-182)  Hamlet is clearly making the decision to behave oddly, but some argue that he is truly mad, and that he is a man who cannot make up his mind.  I tend to believe that whatever conclusion someone comes to regarding this matter, is purely a matter of interpretation.  Good examples of different interpretations are the filmic productions of Hamlet.  In the Kenneth Branagh version, Branagh portrays Hamlet as a man who is perfectly sane, but driven a little mad in pretending to be mad.  When Ethan Hawke played Hamlet, he played Hamlet as someone who was perfectly sane, but so distraught at the corruption of his family that he may seem a little mad.  There are many examples of different Hamlets, and the difference between them is significant.   I generally tend to agree with the interpretation that Hamlet is perfectly sane, but driven slightly mad not only by pretending to be mad, but also by the tragedy that has surrounded him.  In Branagh’s version, for example, he seems lucid in his soliloquies, and only seems mad when he is intentionally acting so.  I believe that if anyone behaves a certain way, even if they are just acting so, it eventually consumes the person and becomes their personality.  I believe the same for Hamlet.

Chaucer's Nun vs. Shakespeare's Hermia

     Of the many colorful characters described in Geoffrey Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, the one that draws my attention the most is the Nonne (nun).  Among the many members of the pilgrimage who belong to the clergy, she may be the one who defies the expected behavior the most.  Members of the clergy take a vow of poverty, and she does not behave as someone who has done so.  She is described wearing a cloak that is “most elegant,” as well as “A brooch of shining gold; inscribed thereon/Was, first of all, a crowned ‘A,’/And under, Amor vincit omnia.”(160-162) The quality of her clothing would imply that she is not taking her vow of poverty very seriously, and while the quote, “amor vincit omnia” (love conquers all) could easily be referring to a love for the church or God, it seems unlikely, and in that case highly inappropriate that a woman who has sworn herself to God would have something like that engraved on a gold brooch, or that she would even be wearing a golden brooch at all.  In addition to her attire contradicting everything that she should stand for, she is described as exhibiting “courtly” behavior, which implies that she spends far more time practicing such behavior than she would in prayer.

            A reader might wonder why a woman who holds such value in etiquette and courtly behavior would ever join the church.  I myself have to wonder if she was sent to join the church not by choice, but   In William Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Egeus, father to Hermia, threatens to either impose the death sentence on Hermia if she does not marry Demetrius, or send her to a convent.  Is the nun in the Canterbury tales simply someone like Hermia who was not fortunate enough to escape her family’s wishes?  This theory could explain why she behaves as a young lady at court should, or why she wears the brooch with the love quote inscription. 

Beowulf: The First True Hero

           When thinking of a true hero, we generally tend to think of someone who is selfless and loyal to his or her lord.  More often than not, the hero is the star of the story, and frequently displays acts of kindness, bravery, and fearlessness.  Beowulf has been described as the first heroic character in literature, and the inspiration for the creation of all heroes that came after. 

            Before Aragorn of the Lord of the Rings trilogy, there was Beowulf, and many have even said that Tolkein received much of his inspiration for the series from the poem itself.  Beowulf is a hero, who despite the lack of request, travels from Geatland to Denmark to defeat the monster, Grendel.  His idea to travel across the sea is initially for sport, but it is also to free Hrothgar’s people from the ever-present fear of Grendel’s attacks, thus showing his first act of kindness. 

            Beowulf is brave, as he is well aware of the horror stories, which have sprouted from Grendel’s slaughtering of Danes, yet he still goes into battle with full confidence in his victory.  Although Beowulf is fearless, he is not recklessly so.  His character thinks before he acts, and if something happens to go awry in his battle, he is quick to assess the situation in an attempt to salvage the outcome.  When Grendel attacks and Beowulf finds out that he cannot penetrate his skin with his sword, he bravely hurls himself at the best and tears its arm off. 

            A hero is known for his or her loyalty and selflessness, and one of the most remarkable moments in the story—in my opinion—is when Beowulf is about to dive into the water to face Grendel’s mother.  He acknowledges the fact that he may not win this battle, and if that be the case, his men will not longer have a leader, or someone who will look out for their well-being.  That being said, he asks Hrothgar to make sure that his men are taken care of, should he perish, and that his prizes earned in Denmark be taken back to Hygelac, his king, as a sign of respect.

            After freeing the Danes from the demons that terrorized their land, Beowulf and his men return across the sea to Geatland, and Hygelac’s kingdom.  Upon returning, Hygelac’s speech to Beowulf makes it seem as though he did not have much faith in Beowulf when he initially began his venture across the sea, which gives the impression that Hygelac does not respect Beowulf as the Danes did.  Despite what our feelings might be when we read this, we notice that Beowulf remains loyal to his lord in all times, in all opinions.