I would say that our discussion in class today was one of the best ones we’ve had all year: it was heated and passionate and contained many a reference to literature and historical events. Mr. Martin would be proud. At the same time, however, it was a bit disturbing. It seemed as though everyone was advocating a somewhat similar point, and yet we were still unable to reach a consensus. Did our failure to agree stem from a flaw in our arguments? I would say not. The problem is that there really is no answer to the question of whether it is okay to disobey laws that are morally wrong. First of all, morality is subjective. As we are learning in Psychology, morals vary from culture to culture, making the moral compass of, for example, a Muslim extremist, very different from that of an American teenager living in Arizona. If this is true, on what should be base morality?
Like Varsity English, Sophocles too explored the differing systems upon which to base one’s decisions. In Antigone, we see the conflicting perspectives of Creon and Antigone. Creon’s values are based on obedience to authority and loyalty to one’s country. He advocates strongly against anarchy, saying “Anarchy, anarchy! Show me a greater evil! / This is why cities tumble and the great houses rain down, / This is what scatters armies!” (42). He speaks of the importance of having a strong central government and asserts that obedience (even blind obedience) is the most necessary of attributes. Creon’s values do not allow room for sympathy towards Polyneices’s soul as Polyneices was disloyal to Thebes. He seems to be making an example out of Polyneices, using his culturally harsh treatment of the corpse as a deterrent for other potential dissenters.
Antigone, the protagonist of the story, lives her life according to different principles. She is loyal to her family, performing the funeral rites necessary to put her brother’s soul to rest, even at great personal risk. She is also loyal to the gods, claiming obedience to a higher power than the king. She says, “You will remember / What things I suffer, and at what men’s hands, / Because I would not transgress the laws of heaven” (78). Antigone is so strong in her convictions that she is willing, even eager, to die for her cause. She represents the Ghandi, the Thoreau, or the Martin Luther King Jr. of Ancient Greek Tragedy, peacefully disobeying a law she sees as immoral and accepting the consequences.
Both Creon and Antigone are unwavering in very their different sets of beliefs. Similarly, both Martin Luther King Jr. and the white supremacists of the 1960s believed they were correct in their morals. For us, there is an obvious right and wrong option when dealing with civil rights; however, in the case of Antigone, there is no clear answer. Both sets of values work in differing circumstances and both can seem reasonable. So the question is, which system does Sophocles advocate? Surely not that of Creon: even the Chorus speaks out against his stubbornness. However, Antigone dies at the end of the play, so her way cannot be the correct one either. Perhaps, like us, Sophocles too struggled with the idea of a universal moral compass. Perhaps the only true way to determine what is moral is on a situational or personal basis: as Ernest Hemingway said, “I know only that what is moral is what you feel good after and what is immoral is what you feel bad after.” (539)
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Saturday, January 19, 2008
The Benefits of Having an Exoskeleton
Franz Kafka’s Metamorphosis is probably the weirdest book I have ever read. The premise is simple enough: a young man turns into a giant bug. But there must be something more to the story, right? Either that or Kafka was completely insane. Perhaps it’s a little of both. One interpretation of the text is that Gregor wants to be an insect to escape his pathetic life. I think that this notion has some merit as both Gregor’s familial relationships and his work life are horrible. At the end of the story, Gregor even wills himself to die, hoping to relieve his family of the burden that he believes he has become (89). Someone who views himself in such a light is clearly capable of rationalizing and instigating his turning into a bug.
Gregor’s relationship with his family, especially his father, is the source of much of the unhappiness in his life. Gregor is the sole breadwinner in his family. While he wakes up at four each morning in order to catch a five a.m. train, Gregor’s father enjoys a leisurely breakfast that lasts several hours (26). Futhermore, the family expects Gregor to continue working to support them for the rest of his life: “over the years they had come to believe that Gregor was set for life with this firm” (29). Gregor’s father’s reaction to Gregor’s transformation is an indication of his true feelings towards Gregor, and result from his discomfort and misplaced anger regarding the role reversal that has occurred in his life. He glowers and clenches his fist, as if intending to drive Gregor back into his room; “then he looked around the living room with uncertainty, covered his eyes with his hands, and wept so hard his great chest shook” (25). Their relationship is clearly one of conflicting emotions as Gregor’s father does not know whether to respond to the transformation with anger or sadness.
Gregor rationalizes his work-centered lifestyle by telling himself that he has “chosen” such a difficult job. He is incapable of viewing his life in any other way, perhaps because it would be too pathetic to face (4). He tells himself that “there’s hope yet,” that he will be able to “pay back what [his] parents owe” after five or six years (5). Gregor clings to these sentiments in order to simply get through the day. It is in the workplace that Gregor truly acts like the insect he becomes. He fantasizes, “I’d have gone up to the director and told him from the bottom of my heart exactly what I though. That would have knocked him from his desk!” (5). He views himself as insignificant and, like when speaking to the office manager, is constantly defending himself. His behavior is pitiful: rather than getting angry at the office manager’s false accusations, Gregor apologizes.
Gregor’s transformation into a giant insect is almost an act of self-defense. His buggy exoskeleton provides protection both literally and figuratively from the burdens of his life. Only through his metamorphosis is Gregor able to escape the unvarying pattern into which is life has fallen. (516)
Gregor’s relationship with his family, especially his father, is the source of much of the unhappiness in his life. Gregor is the sole breadwinner in his family. While he wakes up at four each morning in order to catch a five a.m. train, Gregor’s father enjoys a leisurely breakfast that lasts several hours (26). Futhermore, the family expects Gregor to continue working to support them for the rest of his life: “over the years they had come to believe that Gregor was set for life with this firm” (29). Gregor’s father’s reaction to Gregor’s transformation is an indication of his true feelings towards Gregor, and result from his discomfort and misplaced anger regarding the role reversal that has occurred in his life. He glowers and clenches his fist, as if intending to drive Gregor back into his room; “then he looked around the living room with uncertainty, covered his eyes with his hands, and wept so hard his great chest shook” (25). Their relationship is clearly one of conflicting emotions as Gregor’s father does not know whether to respond to the transformation with anger or sadness.
Gregor rationalizes his work-centered lifestyle by telling himself that he has “chosen” such a difficult job. He is incapable of viewing his life in any other way, perhaps because it would be too pathetic to face (4). He tells himself that “there’s hope yet,” that he will be able to “pay back what [his] parents owe” after five or six years (5). Gregor clings to these sentiments in order to simply get through the day. It is in the workplace that Gregor truly acts like the insect he becomes. He fantasizes, “I’d have gone up to the director and told him from the bottom of my heart exactly what I though. That would have knocked him from his desk!” (5). He views himself as insignificant and, like when speaking to the office manager, is constantly defending himself. His behavior is pitiful: rather than getting angry at the office manager’s false accusations, Gregor apologizes.
Gregor’s transformation into a giant insect is almost an act of self-defense. His buggy exoskeleton provides protection both literally and figuratively from the burdens of his life. Only through his metamorphosis is Gregor able to escape the unvarying pattern into which is life has fallen. (516)
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Deception in the Life and Death of Ivan Ilych
In his short story “The Death of Ivan Ilych,” Leo Tolstoy provides social commentary on life in Czarist Russia. The story takes places in a world in which death is feared above all else, emotional barriers are erected, pleasantries are extolled, and all are “afraid that the conventional deception [will] suddenly become obvious and the truth become plain to all” (274). Tolstoy gives the reader an understanding of the world of falsity and propriety that serves as the setting, and perhaps the cause, of Ivan Ilych’s demise.
We are first given a glimpse into the deceptiveness of the world in which Ilych lives by his friends’ reactions to his death. Tolstoy employs an ironic tone when addressing these responses, referring to the men as Ilych’s “so-called friends” (18). Rather than grieving for the loss of their friend, the men think of “the changes and promotions it might occasion among themselves or their acquaintances” (5). They also feel a sense of relief, grateful that it was Ilych and not they who has died, and remain emotionally distanced from the situation. The ironic narrator strikes again when describing the “very tiresome demands of propriety” that Ilych’s friends must fulfill, including attending the funeral (a task that, if they really were his friends, would not be considered tiresome). Throughout the first scene, Ilych’s acquaintances even plan a game of cards to take place following the funeral. What good friends!
Ivan’s wife Praskovya Fëdorovna is perhaps the most false of the characters in Ilych’s circle. Their relationship is based solely on social propriety as they married because “it was considered the right thing by the most highly placed on his associates” (70). Throughout their marriage together, Ilych and Fëdorovna fight constantly and lead highly separate lives. During his illness, Ilych notices that “everything she did for him was entirely for her own sake,” and he feels “so surrounded and involved in a mesh of falsity that it [is] hard to unravel anything” (256). Even when Ilych is extremely ill, Fëdorovna asks about Ilych’s health “only for the sake of asking and not in order to learn about it,” that is, only for the sake of propriety (263).
The air of falsity that surrounds the life of Ivan Ilych is what ultimately leads to his downfall. As such, Tolstoy is intentionally vague when it comes to the illness that plagued Ilych. Multiple doctors diagnose his ailment differently and his symptoms are unrecognizable. Furthermore, the aspect of his sickness that distresses him the most is that “everything in the world was going on as usual” (128). Rather than treating him any differently, Ilych’s family and friends continue to live their lives as they normally would, adhering only to the rules of propriety. We are later told that “what tormented Ivan Ilych most was the deception, the lie, which for some reason they all accepted, that he was not dying by simply ill” (217). The falseness in his life pushes Ilych closer and closer to death when he finally breaks under the burden of so much deceitfulness. As Tolstoy tells us towards the end of Ilych’s life, “this falsity around him and within him did more than anything else to poison his last days” (218). Only through his sickness is Ilych able to see the masks that those surrounding him wear. (555)
We are first given a glimpse into the deceptiveness of the world in which Ilych lives by his friends’ reactions to his death. Tolstoy employs an ironic tone when addressing these responses, referring to the men as Ilych’s “so-called friends” (18). Rather than grieving for the loss of their friend, the men think of “the changes and promotions it might occasion among themselves or their acquaintances” (5). They also feel a sense of relief, grateful that it was Ilych and not they who has died, and remain emotionally distanced from the situation. The ironic narrator strikes again when describing the “very tiresome demands of propriety” that Ilych’s friends must fulfill, including attending the funeral (a task that, if they really were his friends, would not be considered tiresome). Throughout the first scene, Ilych’s acquaintances even plan a game of cards to take place following the funeral. What good friends!
Ivan’s wife Praskovya Fëdorovna is perhaps the most false of the characters in Ilych’s circle. Their relationship is based solely on social propriety as they married because “it was considered the right thing by the most highly placed on his associates” (70). Throughout their marriage together, Ilych and Fëdorovna fight constantly and lead highly separate lives. During his illness, Ilych notices that “everything she did for him was entirely for her own sake,” and he feels “so surrounded and involved in a mesh of falsity that it [is] hard to unravel anything” (256). Even when Ilych is extremely ill, Fëdorovna asks about Ilych’s health “only for the sake of asking and not in order to learn about it,” that is, only for the sake of propriety (263).
The air of falsity that surrounds the life of Ivan Ilych is what ultimately leads to his downfall. As such, Tolstoy is intentionally vague when it comes to the illness that plagued Ilych. Multiple doctors diagnose his ailment differently and his symptoms are unrecognizable. Furthermore, the aspect of his sickness that distresses him the most is that “everything in the world was going on as usual” (128). Rather than treating him any differently, Ilych’s family and friends continue to live their lives as they normally would, adhering only to the rules of propriety. We are later told that “what tormented Ivan Ilych most was the deception, the lie, which for some reason they all accepted, that he was not dying by simply ill” (217). The falseness in his life pushes Ilych closer and closer to death when he finally breaks under the burden of so much deceitfulness. As Tolstoy tells us towards the end of Ilych’s life, “this falsity around him and within him did more than anything else to poison his last days” (218). Only through his sickness is Ilych able to see the masks that those surrounding him wear. (555)
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