Thursday, September 27, 2007

One Man's Adulterous Wife is Another Man's Dream Girl

In his novel Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy continually switches the perspective of the narrator, following the deeds and thoughts of different characters and, in doing so, making the dramatics of the novel even more interesting. Throughout all of "Part One" the perspective changes from that of Stepan to Levin to Princess Shcherbatskaya to Kitty to Vronsky to Anna and back again. In many cases, the characters who give us the most insight into the inner workings of the plot and characters are he ones who are not yet directly involved in the novel’s central conflict, like Stepan and Kitty. We as readers reap the benefits of these different perspectives by seeing, from all sides, the approaching conflict between Anna, Vronsky, and the characters that surround them.


The story starts from the perspective of Stepan Arkadyevich. For the first few chapters, we follow Stepan and discover the background of the Oblonsky family, including their tainted history of adultery. Quickly we are introduced to the theme of adultery that will obviously become a central theme as the story progresses. Through Stepan's own descriptions of his past and personality, we learn that he is, in many ways, a simple aristocrat. He admits that his beliefs are not based off of substantial and also that he is a man of habit, reading the same newspaper columns every day. He does state, however, that he is rather intelligent and naturally gifted but was often too lazy in school to be a really exceptional student. In fact, we do catch a glimpse of his thoughtful side when he reflects on his infidelities and becomes angry with himself for the little things he has done to hurt his wife. Though sometimes learning about a character through his or her own perspective can bear false impressions, the impressions we get from Stepan of his own character are honest to the point of even being self-critical, which in itself tells more about his personality.


Another character who we learn about through Stepan’s eyes is Dolly, his wife. As Stepan describes her, she is “forever fussing and worrying” as well as “rather simple” (5). She also cares deeply about her children, at one point saying to Stepan, “I think of the children, and for that reason I would do anything in the world to save them” (16). Because she is so dedicated to her children, her marital problems with Stepan plague her even more because she does not know how to save the children from the pain of their parents’ feud. While she is certainly a very complex character, we initially see Dolly as Stepan sees her, concerned and broken by her husband’s infidelity.


Through Stepan’s perspective we learn about another complex character, Levin. Our first impression of Levin is that he is very shy, making him appear somewhat weak, especially compared to the outgoing Stepan. Even Stepan is aware of his friend’s “sensitive and irritable shyness” (21). It quickly becomes clear that Stepan and Levin are very different in their personalities and lifestyles though “it seemed to each of them that the life he led himself was the only real life, and Th. life led by his friend was a mere illusion” (22). Levin, unlike Stepan, is a hardworking farmer who lives in the country, making him odd company for an aristocratic socialite like Stepan. The two men often see ridicule in the other’s lifestyle, both laughing at the life and priorities of the other. “The difference,” Oblonsky says, “was that Oblonsky, as he was doing the same as everyone did, laughed complacently and good-humoredly, while Levin laughed without complacency and sometimes angrily” (22). Levin also appears to be somewhat child-like from Stepan’s perspective due to his new “phases”, as Stepan calls them, and his undying love for Kitty. It is not until we follow the story from Levin’s perspective that we see him in a new light. From his own perspective, we see that Levin is under confident in many ways, especially when it comes to his love for Kitty. Also, we get the sense that Levin is shy only because he dislikes the city and feels uncomfortable around city folk, which goes along with Stepan’s descriptions of their friendship. These varying impressions of Levin demonstrate the benefit of having multiple perspectives early in a novel--we get to see the characters from many different angles, not just how one person sees them or how they see themselves.


In the first section of the novel, Tolstoy continually changes the perspective of the narrator to that of several different characters, allowing us to see the characters as “whole people” and not just as specific impressions. Stepan Arkadyevich’s descriptions of himself and other characters become our first look at the characters and how different people in this Russian society see each other differently. Stepan’s descriptions of Levin and Levin’s description of himself also show us how different or misconstrued these first impressions can be. In a novel like Anna Karenina, where social classes and standards play a key role in the plot, the different perspectives allow us to see not only who a character really is, but also, and possibly more importantly, how he or she is viewed in society. (871)

Friday, September 21, 2007

So I Found a Good Man, but then He Shot Me

In “A Good Man Is Hard to Find”, Flannery O’Connor presents a cast of unlikable characters to build up our hopes of finding “a good man.” The family whose story we follow is everything we wouldn’t want, but would probably expect, in a family. It is the stereotypical “road trip story” family, with characters who cannot get along and bicker incessantly. This story’s stereotypical family is made up of the starry-eyed grandmother, the over-stressed parents, and the hyperactive children. They make for one hell of a road trip.


They do, however, serve a purpose in how much they annoy us as readers. They drive us so crazy that we join the grandmother in her everlasting search for “a good man”. Like the grandmother, we as readers long to find a character to latch onto and relate with, something we cannot do with any member of the family. In this longing, however, we too become blind to the true nature of the characters we meet.


There is another reason, however, that this family makes us more vulnerable to sympathize with the “bad guy” of the story. Every member of the family is a “one-dimensional” character whereas the Misfit has depth and many dimensions to his personality. The father, for example, is only the character we expect him to be. He is annoyed by his mother, impatient with his children, and sharp-tempered, like for example when he yells at the children to shut up in the car. Each member of the family fits perfectly into his or her own stereotype, leaving us yearning for a complex, interesting character whose life and actions surprise us.


So here we are, readers craving a character who not only is “a good man” and we like, but also one that has to break out of his stereotype and be an intriguing presence in the story. Enter the Misfit.


The Misfit first appears when the family is at its most vulnerable. When he and his lackeys first arrive on scene, the Misfit appears to be a kind stranger who fortunately came to the family’s aid after the crash. Surprisingly, the grandmother’s attitude, and even our attitudes, toward the strangers don’t change even when we find out that the kind stranger is actually the Misfit that the grandmother saw on television. The grandmother quickly assumes that the Misfit is just misunderstood and would never hurt her. We as readers hesitate to trust him once we learn his real identity, but we still are inclined to trust him, probably because the grandmother still does. O’Connor portrays the grandmother as a child-like character, sweet and innocent. As anyone who has read The Emperor’s New Clothes knows, children are famous for their ability to perceive the true natures of people. Since the grandmother is so child-like in her own naïve way, we assume that she must be able to see into the soul of the Misfit, beyond his sins and obviously dangerous qualities. However, as the events of the story continue to unfold, this hope for “a good man” fades and can no longer keep us attached to the Misfit.


When it becomes obvious that the Misfit is not actually “a good man” and does actually mean to kill the family, we as readers can no longer so readily accept the grandmother’s hope and faith, but we can still hold on to the idea that the Misfit could be the complex character we’ve been looking for. The Misfit is not your average, everyday “let’s rob and kill them ‘cause we can” kind of criminal. As he starts talking about his past, that fact becomes clear. While talking to the grandmother, he acknowledges that his parents were the “finest people in the world” (90). This conversation is the first sign that the Misfit does not fit his respective stereotype as the other characters do. Next, he tells the grandmother about his first arrest and how he was thrown in jail for killing his father (who actually died from the flu). He is the first character whose past is revealed, which gives him yet another dimension more than the other characters.


After Bobby Lee returns with Bailey’s shirt, our hopes are nearly completely gone that the Misfit will turn out to be the good man we’ve all been waiting for. Our perceptiveness, however, is still clouded when the Misfit and the grandmother start to talk about religion and punishment. The Misfit confesses that the reason he kills people is he “can’t make what all I done wrong fit what all I gone through in punishment” (130). We also gain insight into his cynical religious convictions when he says, “If [Jesus] didn’t [raise the dead] then it’s nothing for you do but enjoy the few minutes you got left the best way you can—by killing somebody or burning down his house or doing some other meanness” (135). His complexities and depth are so clear and so attractive because we see his potential for good and again start to hope that, even though he has killed people, he can still undergo a change of heart and redeem himself as a character. These hopes seem realized as the Misfit’s rough exterior starts to crack and he nearly begins to cry. The grandmother goes to far, however, by touching his shoulder and waking him up from his trance-like state where his true nature was being revealed.


So our hopes get shot down along with the grandmother, as gruesome as that sounds. O’Connor sets us up to long for “a good man”, running a parallel course with the grandmother into the hands of the very person we are told to fear from the first paragraph. We are fooled, however, by his complex nature and atypical past into thinking that he may actually be the character we have been looking for all along. But as the story ends, we are ruined in exactly the same way as the grandmother, by thinking we could trust a man who may just be that “good man” that is so hard to find. (1,011)

Updated: Add the word count

Friday, September 14, 2007

The Rolling Stones Are Always Right...Always

In numerous stories and one Rollings Stones song, we are told that “you can’t always get what you want.” In “Interpreter of Maladies”, Jhumpa Lahiri plays with this concept using the attractions of her two main characters to show that you can’t always get what you want from other people as well. The characters are attracted to each other because of what the other can offer, even though they don’t realize that they want different things. The author does such a wonderful job of creating characters who are leading unhappy lives for different reasons that she leaves readers equally longing to see them happy through their connection (even if it gives them different kinds of happiness). Because we as readers sympathize with their longings for happiness, the end of the story is heartbreaking because neither character gets the happiness they long for, but they learn that they are probably happier without the other.


The attraction between Mr. Kapasi and Mrs. Das develops and flourishes largely because of their differences and equally dissatisfying spouses. Our first impression of Mr. Das is of him arguing with his wife and constantly having his nose in his travel guides (1, 4). Next, we see him and his wife unable to get along or control their children, acting more like siblings than parents (45). Mr. Das is, in many ways, arrogant and uninteresting so it isn’t surprising that Mr. Kapasi’s jobs, as a tour guide and an interpreter, attract Mrs. Das’s attention, but not in a romantic way. Instead, she sees him as her own “interpreter of maladies” who can help her with her unhappiness, though to her this means telling her that her unhappiness is because of her marriage and husband, not her. When she starts asking questions about his interpreting job, Mr. Kapasi is flattered by her interest and that she calls his job “romantic” (79). Her interest also draws a sharp contrast to his own wife, who does not ask about his job, for good reason, and even resents the people he helps (78). Before this conversation, Mr. Kapasi is further attracted by Mrs. Das’s air and mannerisms. Unlike his own wife, who has never even been fully naked in front of him, Mrs. Das is like the typical American tourist who wears shorts and paints her nails. Mr. Kapasi is attracted to this different type of woman but sees her in a romantic way, far different from how she sees him. Whether aware of this difference or not, both characters want to “use” each other to fill gaps in their own marriages: for Mr. Kapasi a want of romance and love, for Mrs. Das a confidant to whom she can confess her unhappiness. The pivotal moment where both essentially choose to reach for what they want is when Mr. Kapasi gives Mrs. Das his address, forging a connection that they intend to continue. Mr. Kapasi chooses to have a connection with a woman that attracts and interests him and Mrs. Das chooses to have a connection with a man that can console and listen to her. In their own ways, the two choose a life they believe will be better than the lives they lead.


Like in any wives’ tale with a similar message, the two main characters must learn to face the fact that they can't expect to get what they want from other people. In this story, the breakdown of the illusion occurs when Mr. Kapasi realizes that Mrs. Das is not romantically interested in him and, in turn, breaks her delusions of him as well. After Mrs. Das confesses her infidelity and lasting unhappiness, Mr. Kapasi is realizes that she wants him as a confidante instead of a lover and disturbed that “she thought of him as a parent” (147). It dawns on him that his illusions of her love were based on hope for a better relationships, rather than reciprocated attraction. As he realizes his true worth in her eyes, he feels “insulted that Mrs. Das should ask him to interpret her common, trivial little secret” (161). Despite his disappointment, he is willing to give her the advice she seeks but he asks the blunt question, “Is it really pain you feel, Mrs. Das, or is it guilt?”, and deeply insults her in addition to depriving her of what she wants to hear. By doing so, Mr. Kapasi breaks her illusion of a better life through him. She no longer sees him as someone who will give her what she wants, a reason to leave her husband, her children, and her unhappy life. Though it is sad that both characters will not be truly happy after their encounter is over, it slowly becomes clear to both of them and the reader that their own lives would not be better with their connection. Mr. Kapasi would long to have a real relationship and Mrs. Das would long for the advice she wanted to hear. It is only a matter of time before their illusions of each other and their potential happiness break down as it their true intentions become clear. As they both walk away from the jungle and each other, they realize that, in their case, you can’t always get what you want. (875)