Friday, August 29, 2014

Gilead Prompt #1

In literature, there are many ways to develop a character and an equal number of methods to convey the defining characteristics to the reader. There is direct characterization, with physical descriptions and conversations and actions implemented with the purpose to flesh out a character. There is also indirect characterization, what other characters say or think about them, how they treat other characters, etc. Sometimes, a tool authors use to describe a character, is through their relationship with another character. This method not only sheds light on the characters but can also reveal key thematic and plot elements – something that is very true in Marilynne Robinson’s “Gilead”. The main character and narrator, Congregationalist minister John Ames’s relationship with his son, the person he is writing the letter to which is how the book is written, explains much about John and also what is to come later on in the story. This method of characterization is implemented from the beginning with John Ames announcing up front, “You reached up and put your fingers on my lips and gave me that look I never saw on any other face besides your mother’s. It’s a kind of furious pride, very passionate and stern. I’m always a little surprised to find my eyebrows unsinged after I’ve suffered one of those looks. I will miss them,” (3). Within these lines the author has revealed much about the characters and the course of the story. We learn that this is a letter, a retrospective, a dying man’s letter to his son. We learn that John Ames is an introspective man, thoughtful, caring and emotional. With this passage following the recounting of his son firing questions at him, we learn that he is a teacher and mentor to his son as all parents are, and that this extended letter is a continuation of that advice, an ideal that will occur again and again.
              Further on in the novel, more and more of the characters are exposed through description of the father and son’s relationship. On page 19, John Ames writes, “There was more to it, of course. For me writing has always felt like praying, even when I wasn’t writing prayers, as I was often enough. You feel that you are with someone. I feel that I am with you now, whatever that can mean, considering that you’re only a little fellow and when you’re a man you might find these letters of no interest,” (19). His uncertainty of the future, or what his child will grow to be and think, hints at somewhat of a distance between the two characters a slight disconnect. This is enhanced by Ames’s reference to his feeling of closeness to his son while writing, noting that it does not make logical sense. It reflects on the observer position that Ames takes throughout the book, a closeness but never fully there, a constant partial-detachment. Like an outsider looking in trying to derive meaning from what he sees. Similar description comes on page 29, “I’m sorry you are alone. You are a serious child, with not much occasion to giggle, or to connive. You are shy of other children. I see you standing up on your swing, watching some boys about your age out in the road,” (29-30). Again we are introduced to Ames as an observer, watching the actions of his son and discovering what he can from them; and within his dying account, releasing all these observations, thoughts and discoveries back to his son. Along the lines of this form of characterization is when John is lamenting over his inability to leave his wife and child with anything of value or substance, noting, “And still it shames me to think that I will leave you and your mother so naked to the world – dear Lord, I think, spare them that blessing,” (31). Once again, indirectly through subtle inferences we learn more of Ames’s stance and where he is coming from and also where the letter is going to go. He doesn’t have anything to leave behind for his wife and child and so he is leaving them this, this letter, these words; and thus the rest of the book with include the things he wants to leave behind with them, the things he wants them to retain after he is gone.

              Throughout the first half of the book, countless passages begin with the words “I wish”, they are then followed by some hope he has for his family or wish for the world or thought to be heard. It seems as though Ames is laying out his hopes and his dreams to his son, leaving them and this world with a final prayer in the form of a letter. Along with his dreams, Ames hopes to leave his knowledge, his fatherly wisdom with his son. As on page 39 he writes, “You can love a bad book for its haplessness or pomposity or gall, if you have that starveling appetite for things human, which I devoutly hope you will never have. “The full south loatheth an honeycomb; but to the hungry soul every bitter thing is sweet.” There are pleasures to be found where you would never look for them. That’s a bit of fatherly wisdom, but it’s also the Lord’s truth, and a thing I know from my own long experience,” (39). John Ames is sentimental, and wishes to leave behind some part of his with his son. This, as occurs many times throughout the beginning of the novel, is the passing of knowledge and experience from father and son. Its continued reoccurrence also hints that it might be the heart and soul of the letter, all things we wants to say and pass on to his son, and having gotten to know John Ames much more thoughts as such will be shared as the novel progresses. The characterization continues in this way, and many others – painting an expansive and all-encompassing depiction of the characters involved and where the story is headed.

Thursday, August 28, 2014

Charming Billy Prompt #2


Although the novel “Charming Billy”, by Alice McDermott, is named after the enigmatic, indeed charming, Billy Lynch; and, while the novel, beginning at the funeral services for the beloved Billy, the story goes on to chronicle the life events of Billy and those around him. While the next, most prominent character would most likely be Billy’s best friend Dennis, there is one character whose impact on the story itself and its meaning I feel, is far more reaching and substantial: Eva. The simple, beautiful Irish girl who Billy met the summer he had returned from the war out on Long Island, who was nannying with her sister Mary for a wealthy family. As the summer days slipped away, Eva solidified her place in Billy’s heart and in her departure, took it with her.

 

            We are first introduced to Eva as Billy’s loved ones are recounting stories of his life and recalling memories, both the good and the bad. We come to know her as the girl who stole Billy’s heart and died too young from pneumonia after returning home to Ireland. All seemingly innocent enough, until we learn that she never did die. She used the $500, that Billy had worked tirelessly for in order to bring her back to the States, to open a gas station with her husband and never replying to Billy’s letters to her family – continuing to spend her years with her husband and four children.

 

            Although most character development occurred indirectly through her effect on Billy and his life and second-hand stories and details uncovered by the narrator – Dennis’s daughter – we are introduced to Eva in the flesh in one chapter out on the Long Island Shore and only once more in her home town of Clonmel. We get some physical description when the boys, picking up the girls for their date, not, “Eva sat at the near end of the table, her back to them, and as she turned at their entrance they saw she had Sally, the 5 year old, on her lap. Eva, too, wore a dress. It had capped sleeves and a rounded neck and there was nothing more beautiful than the way she turned in her chair and smiled up at them over the little girls head,” (79). Besides the obvious physical appeal that attracted Billy, there is a line that offers a more complete description of the character that is the beautiful Eva, and Billy’s unwavering draw to her. After meeting Mary and Eva the previous day on the beach the narrator recounts of Billy, “when did he fall in love with her? Probably it was the day before, before she had even come clearly into his view. But that afternoon he fell in love with the rest of his life, and that was better still,” (76). And so, it becomes increasingly clear that although Eva does not have an actual presence in the story line, her influence is far reaching and can be found throughout the novel.   

 

            Once this level of understanding is established, traces of Eva’s influence can be found everywhere. For instance, the heartbreak, which Eva caused Billy, fostered his connection to Maeve’s dad and then to Maeve herself. On one of Maeve’s visits to Holtzman’s shoe store it is said, “looking on, Maeve saw her father’s future with this kind and attentive young man before she had the courage to imagine her own…she saw that only through her father’s life, which was all the life she had planned to know, would he gain any part in hers,” (132). Billy’s loss of Eva and resulting love of drink linked him to Maeve’s father who suffered from the same afflictions, subsequently linked him to Maeve and established what would come; none of which happening without Eva. Similar to this is all the pain he caused Maeve. She notes, that near the end she had a thousand and one memories, ones she would never share of the terrible things that had happened between her and Billy, things he had done and said. Things, which, “she couldn’t begin to tell, because even just putting it into words would kill her,” (157). A pain, which started with Eva, that consumed Billy, brought so much pain to the woman who had loved Billy unconditionally. At the same token it was often mentioned that if her father wasn’t so troubled, if Maeve hadn’t spent her life taking care of him, and Billy suffering from the same burdens, that she would never have loved Billy the way that she did. Thus, little choices, inconsequential events that shape the future, shape everything that is to come.

 

            As the story continues, everything returns to Eva, her influence felt everywhere. For instance, when talking about how lucky Billy was to find Maeve who was so willing to love and accept him it was said, “so ready to give him her heart and that surely it was a compensation of some sort for what he had lost, for the Irish girl,” (161) Even discussing a relationship to which she is not a part, Eva is still present – that she, from her supposed grave, was the reason that Billy found Maeve. Similarly on page 181 it is mentioned, “what could he have thought of Maeve? After the Irish girl, after that other future, the brightest of them, had shattered in his hand,” (180). And so Eva is created, “the one” for Billy, but not only that, she carried a whole future with her, a whole other world that was taken from Billy when she left. That bright future stripped from his hands, that is what pained Billy so much and that pain set forth all that was to come, Maeve’s pain, late night phone calls to Dennis, etc. The epitome of this ideal comes as Dennis is talking to Billy about how life goes on, “ ‘Life goes on, Billy.’ He said. Billy whispered, ‘I won’t let it.’” (206). He refused to go on, that split decision, that steel resolve to not let go of what could have been, also decided the future, the life he would have, the life that Maeve would have, and on and on.

 
            Ultimately, with Eva only encountered physically once or twice, being fleshed out by Billy’s enduring love and the effects of her early departure and their evaporated future, Eva rests at the core of the story, all events occurring with some tie to her effect on Billy and his subsequent effect on everyone else. She forms, what to me is the center theme of the novel: influence. That things you are effected by and decisions that you make end up affecting those around you in ways you would never expect. It can be described as somewhat of a web, a chain of interconnected causes and effects. Eva to Billy. Billy to Maeve ad therefore Maeve’s father, Billy to Dennis and this his daughter and Irish Mary, and his sisters and the girls that pined for his heart – one event, one decision, inevitably forms what is to come, it shapes time, it shapes everything after.                                    

Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Charming Billy Prompt #1

Engaging a reader early on in a novel is often one of authors' main priorities and their success in doing so greatly influences a readers investment and interest in a story. Speaking from personal experience, if the author does not engage me within the first couple chapters of the book there exists a high probability that I won't continue reading. Fortunately, with Alice McDermott's Charming Billy, this was not the case; within the first chapter I was hooked. Upon finishing the first chapter, it was quite obvious which passage would captivate the readers' attentions and draw them in: the juicy cliffhanger that concluded the chapter, informing the reader that the poor Eva who we thought had died young and taken Billy's heart and future happiness with her was in fact alive. However, to state that this was the passage that drew me in would be untrue, it did perhaps seal the deal of my investment in the story, but by no means was it the first instant in which my interest was peaked, for by that time the author already had me fully engaged and likewise invested in the characters and their futures. After the initial thrust into the heart of a story plot and working to make sense of the scene and the different characters and events being discussed, there was a span of pages in which the attendees of Billy's memorial meal were debating on his matter of substance and his frame of mind. After several descriptions and words spoken to Billy's character and ways of conduct the reader begins to develop some form of mental image for the character; and through this debate amongst his loved ones the complexity of Billy is fully revealed, and as a reader I could not help but be drawn in and become intrigued into further unveiling the layers to this enigma and discovering which opinions of the man are true. On page nineteen, after pouring himself and Mickey Quinn another drink, Dan Lynch begins, "'Well, let me tell you what he told me,' he said. 'Down at Quinlan's, maybe a year or two after the Irish girl died. He told me,' he said, lifting his glass, pointing around it, 'that every year was a weight on his shoulders. Every hour was, he said.' He pointed to Kate. 'Remember when you said he was like a man waiting for a bus, when he was waiting to get her back here? Well, when you said that i thought: It never changed. He was still waiting, years after she'd died. But he was waiting to go to her now. Ever since the night Dennis told him the news, he was waiting to die, I'm sure of it.'" (19,20). Contrasting to this portrayal of the man is Dan Lynch's continued monologue in response to earlier discussions regarding Billy's alcoholism as a disease to which he was completely subject to and powerless in it's grasp. He begins again, "'What's nonsense is all this disease business,' he said. 'Maybe for some people it's a disease. But maybe for some there are things that happen in their lives that they just cant live with. Things that take the sweetness out of everything. Maybe for some it's a sadness they can't get rid of or a disappointment that won't go away. And you know what I say to those people? I say good luck to those people.' He raised his glass, raised his chin. 'I say maybe they're not as smart and sensible and accepting as every one of us,' indicating every one of us with a sweep of his beer, 'but they're loyal. They're loyal to their own feelings. They're loyal to the first plans they made-just like Billy was loyal to Holtzman and the job he gave him. And like he would have been loyal to her if she had lived and come back here and they'd gotten married. Just like he was loyal to Maeve: Billy never breathed another word about that girl after he married Maeve. But the girl was first, and for Billy she would always be first. That's the kind of guy he was. Maeve couldn't change him.'" (20,21). The first description paints a picture of a man plagued with sadness that perhaps could have even been diagnosed with depression, who spent the remaining years of his life anxious to leave this life and join another. The second, which begins with a description similar to the first, depicting a man overpowered by emotion and driven to drink but then things take a turn to emphatically describe him as a man driven by his sense of loyalty, a great man, who unfortunately became too familiar with his drink, but with that as a minor note that is overshadowed by his great qualities. So instantly, as a reader, I am eager to learn more about this mystery man who was such an amazing friend who also contained immense sadness within and more importantly had great influence on the people around him. Establishing the character in such a precise way with such mystery and influence, and with such beautiful and poetic language that like a lyrical muse, it is impossible not to fall irreversibly under the spell of intrigue and subsequent investment in Billy's and the other influenced characters.

Monday, July 21, 2014

The Scarlet Letter Prompt 2

               We are first introduced to the character known as Roger Chillingworth at Hester’s display of sin outside the courtroom, to which the whole town had gathered to witness. We first encounter him with the description, “By the Indians side, and evidently sustaining a companionship with him, stood a white man, clad in a strange disarray of civilized and savage costume” (42). Following this cautionary portrayal, there commenced a very intense interest on Mr. Chillingworth’s part in the woman wearing the scarlet letter. Upon asking a townsman the identity of the shamed woman, Roger finds it extremely disconcerting how there has been no attention or quest to put the second, equal sinner upon the scaffold of shame beside her. Concluding this very intense and strange scene, is the promise made by Mr. Chillingworth that, in reference to the man who sinned alongside Hester, “But he will be known! – he will be known! – he will be known!” (44). The scene is sealed with a knowing look shared by Hester and Mr. Chillingworth, when upon its ending, we hear nothing of the man until much later on in the novel.


               Mr. Chillingworth returns to us as Hester finds herself in the midst of the most important and influential men of the settlement, pleading her case as to why she should retain custody of her daughter Pearl. He speaks up on Hester’s behalf to his fellow men, attesting to the pain and suffering that the scarlet letter delivers to the woman. Old Roger Chillingworth had assumed the position of the beloved Reverend Dimmesdale, whose health was steadily declining. Presenting himself as one committed to improving the health of the Reverend, Roger placed himself at an ever-present position at the Reverend’s side; dining, residing, and spending all hours of the day with the revered Mr. Dimmesdale. However, amidst the description of the pair’s companionship and Roger’s investigation into the crevices of the reverends plagued heart comes a depiction of Mr. Chillingworth in a rather ugly, and cautionary way, “Had a man seen old Roger Chillingworth, at that moment of his ecstasy, he would have had no need to ask how Satan comports himself, when a precious human soul is lost to heaven, and won into his kingdom” (95). This dark and suggestive portrayal of the physician triggers the first of many red flags over the intentions of the old doctor. Description of Mr. Chillingworth, or at least in regards to his workings, in such a dark light continues as the novel progresses and the narrator emphasizes the unknown evil that is reeking its havoc of the poor minister. This confusing relationship between the two men and the questionable moral stance of the old physician is finally crystallized within the workings of Hester’s mind, “It was impossible to doubt, that, whatever painful efficacy there might be in the secret sting of remorse, a deadlier venom had been infused into it by the hand that proffered relief. A secret enemy had been continually by his side, under the semblance of a friend and helper, and had availed himself of the opportunities thus afforded for tampering with the delicate springs of Mr. Dimmesdale’s nature” (114). Finally, old Roger Chillingworth’s intentions are made clear to the reader, that he in-fact has been the one injecting the facilitating the evil that was plaguing the poor reverend, making likewise clear his motivations, and his intentions of revenge upon the reverend. Following this surprising exposure is Hester’s shocking admission, “Hester Prynne resolved to meet her former husband, and do what might be in her power for the rescue of the victim on whom he had so evidently set his gripe” (115). And so the fate of the remaining pages is set forth, Hester and Mr. Dimmesdale are driven together by the forces of Roger Chillingworth’s revenge. Until, the truth is revealed as Hester and the Reverend meet in the shadow of the woods, the good reverend is Hester’s fellow sinner! He is the father of the lovely Pearl. The weight and guilt of this secret twisted and prodded by the old physician was the source of the reverend’s demise. Events reach their precipice at the Election Day ceremonies, at which Mr. Dimmesdale, sensing his time was nearly through, finally revealed himself and his part in Hester’s infamy. Upon the conclusion of this confession, the minister’s existence on this earth was no more. Speculation of the day’s events and related stories revolved for years. Within the year of the reverend’s passing, old Roger Chillingworth passed on as well. Upon his death, the old physician left a considerable amount of property to little Pearl, effectively making her the most well-endowed mistress and most sought-after wife. Hester and Pearl moved back to Europe where Pearl was to meet a wealthy man and begin a family of her own. Years later, Hester was to return to the old cottage by the sea, remaining for the rest of her days an ever-present ear to the downtrodden and the suffering. And so it remains that old Roger Chillingworth’s hand in the suffering of the reverend and his determination to wreak revenge on the minister undoubtedly set in motion all subsequent events in the story, likewise remains the lesson that the old physician leaves for the reader: regardless of how tirelessly you work and how committed you are to the revenge you wish to seek upon someone who did you wrong, that power does not rest within you. As so perfectly exemplified in the reverend’s admission to his sin and subsequent passing, the suffering Chillingworth wished to create and remain with the reverend was all for not. It is up to you and you alone to accept the wrongs of others done onto you. It is your responsibility to take responsibility for how they make you feel and subsequently forgive them regardless of circumstance so that you may be able to move forward and live your own full life, not the half-life one is destined to when one only breathes and dreams of revenge.

Wednesday, July 2, 2014

The Scarlet Letter: Setting

The Scarlet Letter: Setting

Setting is typically coined as a term describing the time and place in which a novel takes place, and The Scarlet Letter is no exception to this. Nathaniel Hawthorne’s novel begins on this very premise; chapter one, “The Prison Door,” starts the novel in this fashion, describing the jail yard in which the novel’s main character, Hester Prynne, resides. He launches into a detailed description of the rusting, weathered jail house, the graveyard near it, and the overgrown, grassy lot before it. In describing the jail house he writes, “The rust on the ponderous iron-work of its oaken door looked more antique than any thing else in the new world. Like all that pertains to crime, it seemed never to have known a youthful era” (33). Drawing emphasis to the age of the building by noting the rust and using words such as “antique”, Hawthorne not only illuminates the physical description of the location in which the story takes place, but also hints towards the deep-rooted, more traditional frame of mind and state of culture of the time period in which the story exists in. Similar physical descriptions resume as Hawthorne describes Hester’s place of residence. In descriptions of the isolated cottage he writes, “On the outskirts of the town, within the verge of the peninsula, but not close in vicinity to any other habitation, there was a small thatched cottage. It had been built by an earlier settler, and abandoned, because of the soil about it was too sterile for cultivation, while its comparative remoteness put it out of the sphere of that social activity which already marked the habits of the emigrants. It stood on the shore, looking across a basin of the sea at the forest-covered hills, towards the west. A clump of scrubby trees, such as alone grew on the peninsula, did not so much conceal the cottage from view, as seem to denote that here was some object which would fain have been, or at least ought to be, concealed” (55). Amidst the description of the thatched cottage surrounded by poor soil and a spotting of trees, again, Hawthorne intertwines description that suggests at a greater meaning. He makes note of the seclusion of the cottage, the peninsula itself even, through repetition, emphasizing the ideal that Hester is detached from functioning society, a shunned peninsula herself, and as the trees ought to conceal the cottage, she too ought to be concealed from view.

The next, less traditional development of setting comes in Hawthorne’s description of the new world, an important ideal to understand in order to make sense of many of the cultural norms and happenings of the age. This is exemplified as Hester makes her way to Governor Bellingham’s home and it is stated that, “The period was hardly, if at all, earlier than that of our story, when a dispute concerning the right of property in a pig, not only caused a fierce and bitter contest in the legislative body of the colony, but resulted in an important modification of the framework itself of the legislature” (69). This passage follows Hester’s concern over the Governor’s interest in the town’s talk of whether or not Hester’s child, Pearl, should be stripped from her care. Hester finds it most interesting that a person of such high status should be concerned of such lowly matters. This key passage is important in noting the developing state of the land in which the story is set. The story is told in a time in which the new world was just an infant, and its new inhabitants were still trying to set structure and laws to the ways of life. In order to fully comprehend the culture, and age in which Hester exists, one must grasp that it is a system that is still trying to figure itself out. Another important aspect of life in the new world that is important to note, is the great gap that exists between high officials, such as Governor Bellingham, and low townspeople such as Hester. This fissure in societal rank is very apparent in the description of the governor’s opulent home, to which Hester’s cottage pales in comparison.

Similar to the importance of understanding the ways of life in the new world, is understanding the culture of the period; the description of which adds greatly to the development of the setting of the novel. Much of this culture is developed in the description of the Puritans and their ways of life, the people who were the predominant new settlers of the new world. Such description begins early on in the novel with Hawthorne noting of the market place, “But, in that early severity of the Puritan character, an indifference of this kind could not so indubitably be drawn. It might be that a sluggish bond-servant, or an undutiful child, whom his parents had given over to the civil authority, was to be corrected at the whipping post. It might be, that an Antinomian, a Quaker, or other heterodox religionist, was to be scourged out of the town, or an idle and vagrant Indian, whom the white man’s fire-water had made riotous about the streets, was to be driven with stripes into the shadow of the forest” (34). Analogous descriptions follow, occurring repeatedly throughout the beginning of the book, all of which speak to the severity of Puritan culture. Within this passage alone, Hawthorne demonstrates the intolerable, and quick to punish nature of the Puritans. Lending a description of them that is far less than understanding and accepting. A very apt description of this nature follows Hester’s emergence from the jail and the view of the “town-beadle”, “This personage prefigured and represented in his aspect the whole dismal severity of the Puritanic code of law, which it was his business to administer in its final and closest application to the offender” (36). And so, not only were the Puritans people who were exact in their rulings, but looked to carry out those rulings and punishments in the most extreme of forms. Also, an aspect of society one cannot miss in the beginning of the novel is the extreme, and all-encompassing role that religion plays in peoples’ lives. From daily sermons lasting for hours, legislation drawn from the words of the Bible, and the obsession of the townspeople to conduct themselves in such a way that their soul will receive salvation; religion is a major factor to understand when it comes to forming the complete setting in which The Scarlet Letter exists.  


Lastly, and most interesting element in the development of the setting, is the hypocrisy that exists within the new world and its potency in the culture of the era. This ideal is developed time and time again as Hester makes note that what is often most painful in wearing the scarlet letter upon her chest, is the acknowledgment in passers-by that they too are not free of sin, that most everyone she encounters is not free of sin, but she alone must bear this punishment. This element is most profoundly seen in the descriptions of Hester’s, incomparable needle-work for many of the townspeople, the same townspeople who deny her presence and shun her from societal happenings. Hawthorne notes, “Vanity, it may be, chose to mortify itself, by putting on, for ceremonials of pomp and state, the garments that had been wrought by her sinful hands. Her needle-work was seen on the ruff of the Governor; military men wore it on their scarfs, and the minister on his band; it decked the baby’s little cap…The exception indicated the ever relentless vigor with which society frowned upon her sin” (57). It is so astounding that the same people who are so quick to place such a punishment upon her shoulders, are the same ones to wear the fashion that was created by her hands, the hands they deemed too sinful to be an ordinary member of society. So with this unusual, and frankly dumbfounding element of the culture and society of the era, a complete account of setting is developed that goes beyond the bounds of simply just time and place, a development that greatly adds to the understanding and effectiveness of the novel.