Jane Eyre and Madness

Mental illness is just about the last thing you would want to have in 19^th century England, or really anywhere in the 19^th century. During this time in our history, our knowledge and research of mental health was very minimal, resulting in the misdiagnosis and immense mistreatment of those unfortunate individuals. While those with severe mental illnesses were often institutionalized (which were their own horror in themselves), many people who suffered with things like depression and even mild schizophrenia were often simply shamed and hidden from the world.

Unfortunately, this imprisonment would often drive people even madder, as was the case with Bertha in Jane Eyre. Rochester was so embarrassed and horrified by his new wife’s insanity that instead of trying to cure her, he locks her up in his basement and leaves her there for years. You can see from comments such as Rochester’s aside that “since the medical man had pronounced her mad, she had, of course, been shut up” that simply locking someone away was a very common response to mental illness in 19^th century England (Bronte 292).

What’s even more interesting is the parallels between Bertha’s extreme insanity and Jane’s mild madness. Both Bertha and Jane exhibit insane behaviors such as seeing things that are not there and violent outbursts, however each of their stories have very different endings. This divergence in their lives could stem from Jane’s strong moral code and respect for herself that she clings to throughout the entire book. We can see this moral code begin when she is young, explaining to Helen Burns that if you don’t retaliate against someone, they will never learn to treat you better, but the contrast to Bertha is strongest in Jane’s interactions with Rochester. While Bertha marries Rochester because her family tells her to, Jane refuses to marry Rochester unlawfully (and even refuses to Mary St. John because she doesn't love him). This contrast between the levels of madness and resulting outcomes of these characters emphasizes the idea that echoes throughout all of Jane Eyre: if you stay true to your moral code, you can completely change your life.

Works Cited: Bronte, Charlotte. Jane Eyre. New York: Bantam Books, 1987. Print.

*Disclaimer: This post was written while sick and tired, I apologize for any inconveniences.

Drop of Lucifer

Milton’s Paradise Lost is known for his unique depiction of Lucifer, a character who has so many more dimensions than simply the evil tempter. The most obvious characteristic that Milton gives his Lucifer is hubris. Lucifer is an Archangel that feels so strongly that he is God’s equal that he is kicked out of Heaven. As Lucifer himself explains, “(God) whom reason hath equaled, force hath made supreme above his equals” (Milton 248-249). In other words, Lucifer feels that he, and many others, are just as intelligent as God, and the only reason that God rules over everyone else is because he has more brute force. I don’t know that one could get more conceded than literally thinking that he is as smart (if not smarter than) God. Something that does come close, though, is Milton’s belief that he is wise enough to explain the ways of God to everyone, which adds to the assertion that Milton actually identifies with Lucifer rather than God.

Another layer of Lucifer that Milton adds is his humanistic attitudes. Unlike most Christians and followers of God, Lucifer relies on his own reason and his own mind to make himself happy. He sees himself as the maker of his own destiny, to the point in which he asserts that “the mind is its own place, and in itself can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven” (Milton 254-255). This sentiment goes hand-in-hand with Lucifer’s hubris, in that he believes that he does not need God to be happy, in fact, he can make himself happier in Hell than God ever could in Heaven.

Through Milton’s introduction of Lucifer’s opinions, though, we as readers can view the fall of Lucifer from his perspective, and possibly even have sympathy for him. This perspective switch has deeply affected the way good and especially evil are portrayed, adding the different shades of gray to literature. One example of this perspective switch is with the anti-hero, Heathcliff, in Wuthering Heights. Heathcliff is domineering and aggressive, but the reader finds herself rooting for Heathcliff more than anyone else because we see his back story full of abandonment, childhood abuse, and a broken heart. There are many other examples of this perspective switch, such as Grendel’s retelling of Beowulf, all of which were influenced by the path that Milton paved with Lucifer’s conceded yet relatable Lucifer.

Works Cited

Milton, John. Paradise Lost. Ed. Scott Elledge. 2nd ed. New York: Norton, 1975.

The Tempest Reaction Post

            Many critics debate over the category of romance for Shakespeare’s plays; however, it is clear to me as I read the parameters set for romance plays that the Tempest is a prime example of one of Shakespeare’s romances. Not only does The Tempest not quite fit into the parameters of comedy or tragedy, but it also has clear elements that link it to the other plays deemed as romances.

            Take his commonly known comedies, for example. Many of us have read some of these plays, such as Twelfth Night and Midsummer’s Night Dream, and can attest to the fact that they fit into the comic parameters of a lighthearted and comic plot, along with developed characters who all magically get a happy ending (not necessarily literal magic, more like deus ex machina). The Tempest does include some of these elements, such as Prospero’s quick change of heart leading to everyone’s happiness, even Caliban’s. However, there are many elements of The Tempest that disqualify it from the category of comedy, most notably its serious plot. Almost all of the characters in the Tempest deal with serious issues such as family betrayal and the threat of death throughout the entire play, which is uncharacteristic of a comedy.

            On the other hand, The Tempest does not fit into the category of tragedy either, most notably because no one dies at the end. As Schwartz describes, “While tragedy emphasizes evil, and comedy minimizes it, romance acknowledges evil -- the reality of human suffering” (Schwartz). Unlike comedies, the Tempest does not minimize evil with a comic and light-hearted plot, as we can see through the several accounts of brotherly betrayal, such as when Antonio suggests to Sebastian that they kill Alonso and “lay (him) to bed forever,” so that Sebastian can become King of Naples (Shakespeare, 90). However, The Tempest does not emphasize evil either, because not only do Sebastian and Antonio not kill Alonso, but Prospero also decides to throw away his magic and spare everyone in exchange for regaining his Dukedom. Evil is definitely present in this play, and plays a large part in many of the main character’s motives and even small actions, such as Prospero’s poor treatment of Caliban, but the evil does not consume all, so The Tempest really does not fit into the category of Tragedy either.

            Even more importantly, though, The Tempest fits perfectly into the parameters for a Shakespearean romance. Even by simply looking at Schwartz’s six main characteristics of Shakespearean romances, we can see that the Tempest is a perfect fit. First of all, the play begins with a back-story of brotherly betrayal, dating back for almost the entirety of Miranda’s life, which cause the current scenes to unfold. As the play continues, we see more and more Shakespearean romance elements, such as the dichotomy between the civilized characters and the uncivilized Caliban, the improbably magical Ariel, and the virtuous love between Ferdinand and Miranda. Finally, the play culminates with a happy ending and theme of redemption through Prospero forgiving his brother and taking back his Dukedom.

Works Cited:

Schwartz, Debora B. "Shakespeare's Four Final Plays: The Romances." 2005.Web. 14 January

2015.

Shakespeare, William. The Tempest. New York: Barron’s Educational Series, 1985. Print.

The Secret Pupil: Brave New World Rection

No one understands. Even I had trouble getting it at first, but it is essential that you understand. Science and religion can both be extremely tempting, and if the average person thinks about them too much, he can be easily be sucked into their traps. As we go through these lessons, you have to remember that I am giving you knowledge, but you must not try to pursue science or religion any further. The happiness of our Society is far more important than anything we could discover with science or feel with religion. As a World Controller, it is my job to preserve everyone’s happiness, and one day it will be your job, so listen up.

Science and self-denial have always failed us. Look at Shakespeare. In fact, look at all of the major people of the past, before the time of our Ford: Jesus, Gandhi, Einstein… They were all brilliant and revered, but at what cost? Jesus was persecuted and left for dead. He was forced to face immense suffering on the cross, all to help end the rest of the world’s suffering. But people still suffered, they still faced hardships every day. Soma is a much better fix. All the happiness and no tears. Or consider Gandhi. He forced himself to be completely peaceful and celibate, suppressing so much of his nature. What a backwards way of thinking! Why would we have these urges if we weren’t supposed to act on them? Our current system is much better: everyone belongs to everyone; nothing is suppressed so everyone’s happy and fulfilled. Einstein is the best example of the flaws of science. Such brilliance, he helped bring so many inventions and innovations into the world, but science is ultimately dangerous. Once people learn a little about the world, they become ravenous for more and more information, which in the end leads to unhappiness. In short, truth is a menace to society (Huxley 204).

Now you can see why John killed himself. He was obsessed with religion, self-denial, and the search for more truth, all of which drove him mad. I don’t blame him for taking his own life, I knew that was his inevitable end as soon as he came into our “brave new world,” as he liked to call it. John was born into chaos. That’s all he knew and all he was destined for. He was never conditioned to be happy, never taught the benefits of soma.

In the past, people would have regarded such actions as sad, but now we know better. His death, as all others’, is an inevitable part of life. You’re a little young to completely understand the joy in his death, though, so let’s take some soma and then we can resume our lesson.

***

Okay, so now we’re in the Fertilization Room. “These…are the incubators” (Huxley 16). As you know, this is where humans are made. Do you remember how many identical twins we can make now through bokavskification? That’s right, sixteen thousand and twelve! Individuality can be useful in some cases, as is with the Alphas, but in most cases uniformity yields the most happiness. We are all one Society, and uniformity helps us achieve our collective goals with the least amount of conflict. It is no coincidence that the people who are exiled to the island are all Alphas, nor was it an accident that the island of entirely Alphas broke into a civil war. When people are different, it can become very dangerous. That is why we manage who is the same, who is different, and how they are different; and that is why the job of the World Controller is so important.

One day, when you are older you will take my place as a World Controller. You will get to make the decisions about how our Society will work. You must not take your responsibility lightly, though, for you will be in charge of the happiness of the entire Society, which is why these extra lessons are so important. You must be aware of science and religion and knowledgeable about their dangers so that you will not be tempted by them. But you have a few years before you have to worry too much about this, so for now, go join your friends in Centrifugal Bumble-puppy.

Okay fath-I mean Mustapha!

Works Cited: Huxley, Aldous. Brave New World. New York: Harper & Brothers Publishers, 1932. Print. 

Frankenstein Reaction

Frankenstein is in the genre of Gothic literature because Shelley uses elements of that genre to criticize both romanticism and rationalism. Shelley shows favoritism to romanticism, though, which can be seen in her characters’ strong admiration for nature. Victor, for example, spends a whole day wandering through the mountains after William and Justine’s deaths. He describes his beautiful surroundings in detail, exclaiming “the sublime and magnificent scenes afforded me the greatest consolation that I was capable of receiving” (Shelley 101). Descriptions like this one pepper the novel and illustrate Shelley’s romanticism, especially in her fondness of nature.

Continuing her praise of nature and its peacefulness, Shelley criticizes rationalism and science through her novel. Victor Frankenstein, a chemist and pupil of the natural sciences, clearly represents rationalism. Rational thought, especially in the context of the enlightenment, focused intensely on the abandonment of emotional thought and motivation, in favor of a way of thinking that was clearer, more concise, and based in fact. Shelley points out that this new way of thinking is flawed through Victor Frankenstein’s insanity in his work. Frankenstein himself even admits as he’s recounting the story that he got a little too obsessed with creating his being. In fact, he got so consumed with the small details of his work that he failed to recognize the bigger picture of what he was creating. Thus, Frankenstein was shocked and horrified at the creature that he alone spent night and day working on for months. He could not really see the monster because he was looking at it through his rational and scientific “lenses,” if you will. However, when life was breathed into the Creature, Frankenstein viewed his creation with emotion and saw a repulsive being. In his surprise, Frankenstein panicked and fled, leaving the confused monster to fend for itself. Through this series of events, Shelley points out that emotions are necessary to see the full picture, yet are also flawed and should not be the only tools used to make decisions.

The Creature’s representation, on the other hand, is not as clear. He is an unnatural creation, an artificial being that Frankenstein created in his rational defiance of the laws of nature. However, the Creature himself, as his own being, represents romanticism. The Creature is completely controlled by his emotions, acting on whatever anger or sadness he is feeling at the moment. Give in text example of him changing his mind twice after the family freaks out at him.

Overall, Frankenstein resonates with every reader because it calls into question the everlasting nature vs. nurture debate. Whether you are someone controlled by your emotions, or someone who meticulously and rationally thinks through your actions, we all wonder whether people are naturally evil or if they are corrupted by human experience. Should we blame the Creature for killing all of Frankenstein’s family, or should we blame Frankenstein for creating the Creature in the first place? The answer all depends on your perspective.

Works Cited

Shelley, Mary Wollstonecraft. Frankenstein. New York: The Penguin Group, 2013. Print.

The Sun Also Rises Reaction

            There are many famous authors, Hemingway included, that take a page to say what could be said in one sentence. In my opinion, though, Hemingway does not accomplish this properly or eloquently. Other writers such a J.K. Rowling use imagery and devices like metaphors or synecdoche to give these long descriptions, thus pulling the reader into the scene and making them feel like they are experiencing it with right alongside the characters. Hemingway, on the other hand, has very dry and straightforward descriptions, which can give the text a feeling of droning on. For example, when Bill, Jake, and Cohn are driving to Pamplona, Jake describes the scene by saying,

“After a while we came out of the mountains, and there were trees along both sides of the road, and a stream of ripe fields of grain, and the road went on, very white and straight ahead, and then lifted to a little rise, and off on the left was a hill with an old castle, with buildings close around it and a field of grain going right up to the walls and shifting in the wind.” (Hemingway 99).

As you can see, it’s not that Hemingway doesn't give descriptions; in fact, he gives extremely lengthy descriptions. That one sentence description (containing seven ‘and’s) required a block quote in and of itself. The problem here is not brevity, but lack of imagery.

That being said, Hemingway’s straightforward descriptions can add to his novels in some ways; and The Sun Also Rises is a great example of this positive impact. The Sun Also Rises is full of lengthy, drawn-out descriptions, combined with short, back-and forth dialogue between characters. Hemingway uses this style to give his characters a feel of always being displeased and bored with the world, an attitude that is fitting of a group of war veterans drinking the rest of their lives away in Europe.

For once we actually decided to go somewhere. It was getting boring just hanging with Cohn, Brett, and everybody. We all drove out to New Orleans for the Mardi Gras Parade. The drive up there was a pain. Cohn was all over Brett and Mike was jealous and Bill was drunk the whole time and I was just sitting watching the trees and the mountains and the billboards and the cars go by. God, they are all so annoying, but especially Cohn, that guy really pisses me off!

…

            When we got there we headed out to the parade. There were people everywhere and it was loud and colorful and energetic. This was a great place to be. Nobody ever lives their life except at Mardi Gras. Unless you’re Cohn, that moron, he wasn’t even happy here. He was too busy pining after Brett, which just made Mike mad. What an asshole.

Works Cited: Hemingway, Ernest. The Sun Also Rises. New York: Scribner, 2003. Print.

Wuthering Heights Reaction

Wuthering Heights is a highly cyclic book, essentially everything from characters to housing comes full circle by the conclusion of the novel. Bronte uses these cycles to point to the need for balance in society.

The similarities between both generations of Catherines is evidence enough of Bronte’s use of circular patterns in her novel. Most evident is the similarity between their names. Catherine Earnshaw marries Edgar and becomes Catherine Linton; then she gives birth to Catherine Linton, who marries Hareton and becomes Catherine Earnshaw. This specific example not only shows the similarities between the two generations of Catherines, it also shows, through the reversal of their last names, the contrasts between them. As a child, Catherine Earnshaw (I) was a rugged tomboy and “as rude as a savage”, learning to be more proper when she married into the Linton family. As Nelly, one of the main narrators of the story and a personal friend of Catherine’s family, describes her transformation, “instead of a wild, hatless little savage jumping into the house, rushing to squeeze us all breathless, there lighted from a handsome black pony a very dignified person” (Bronte 50). Conversely, Catherine Linton (II) was a proper and sheltered child, learning to embrace her tough side only through her marriage back into the Earnshaw family.

Readers can also find circular patterns through several other characters, such as the characters of Edgar Linton and his nephew, Linton Heathcliff. According to Nelly, both Edgar and Linton are weak and cowardly men who each marry one of the Catherines, although Catherine (I) and Edgar’s marriage was more successful than that of Catherine (II) and Linton. Another great example is the abusive relationship between Hindley and Heathcliff in the first generation, and Heathcliff and Hareton in the second generation. After his father passed away, Hindley “drove (Heathcliff) from their company to the servants, deprived him of the instructions of the curate, and insisted that he should labor outdoors” (Bronte 44). Hindley took his (often drunken) rage out on Heathcliff, often having him flogged for little to no reason. This childhood trauma came full circle for Heathcliff when he was an adult through his constant abuse of Hindley’s son, Hareton, once he was under Heathcliff’s care.

These circular patterns all point to one central theme: the second generation, though in the same circumstances, thrived exceedingly compared to the first generation. One example of this success is the marriage between Catherine (II) and Hareton, whose love was much healthier than that of Catherine (I) and Heathcliff, and their happy ending at Thrushcross Grange. There are many speculations as to Bronte’s intention behind this circular pattern of tragic endings followed by happy endings. One theory that intrigued me was the idea that through the generations, Bronte was trying to display the ways in which primitivism and civilization clash, but one can only succeed when there is a good mix of both. The Earnshaws (Heathcliff, Hindley, Catherine (II), etcetera), who were all uneducated and brutal, ended up dying in the end. On the other hand, so did the educated and sophisticated Lintons (Edgar, Linton, etcetera). However, the people who were open to change and realized that a mix of primitive instincts as well as civility were the best way to live (Catherine (II), Haretone, Nelly, etcetera), prospered in the end of the novel.

Works Cited: Brontë, Emily. Wuthering Heights.  New York: New American Library, 2004. Print.