Thursday, October 29, 2009

Trethewey's Biblical Symbolism

Natasha Trethewey uses a plethora of Biblical and religious symbolism in her poetry collection Native Guard in the first section. The introductory poem which leads the entire section includes the river Jordan: "I'm only going over Jordan / I'm only going over home." The first poem in the first section is titled "Southern Crescent," and Southern Crescent refers to the old train system that ran through the South and the actual waning of the moon is considered the eye of God, for it resembles an eye and eyebrow when the North Star rests directly under the moon.
Trethewey also uses fruit, very symbolic of the fallen Eden, and may even represent herself in a wayward momentary loss of the memory of her mother in "After Your Death." More religion pours out with the mention of Ash Wednesday in "Letter," which is led by "What the Body Can Say" which suggests hand gestures in the form of prayer and/ or communion: "just as / we open our mouths in church to take the wafer."
Her first section is becoming more and more Catholic in nature, even more obvious in her addressing of the mortal sin Vanity in the poem "Genus Narcissus": "a whisper, treacherous, / from the sill. Be taken with yourself."
Also, she even leads us into the second section with the first poem titled "Pilgrimage" which offers more Catholic and possibly other religions to the basket. Mostly during the Medieval Ages did the pilgrimage become popular, way before the Canterbury Tales, and right around the time of the Crusades, which was not just a search for God, but remission of sins and absolution of guilt and the offering of penance.
Is Natasha Trethewey searching for penance? Is she harboring some sort of guilt?

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Who Should Take the Blame?

Who is truly responsible when a child gets molested by an adult? This is one of the many questions that went through my mind as I read, How I Learned to Drive by Paula Vogel. It is very easy to put the blame on the child, the molester, or even the parents; but who is really at fault? During our class discussion, they were some that argued that control and manipulation had a lot to do with Lil Bit and Uncle Peck’s affair, but in the “eyes of the law”, an adult is also responsible. It does not matter how mature a child’s body is, whenever an adult advances or has sex with a person under the age of eighteen, he or she is responsible. Throughout this play, there were many individuals that could have taken the blame for Lil Bit and Uncle Peck’s affair. Personally, I think all the adults are at fault in this situation. As a future parent, I do not understand how Lil Bit’s Mother allowed her to think that she was able to handle Uncle Peck. How could a child handle an adult, especially a man? Whenever those suspicions started in Lil Bit’s Mother mind that Uncle Peck was looking at Lil Bit strangely, she should have kept Lil Bit away from him. Lil Bit’s Mother is not the only person responsible in this situation, but Aunt Mary also. As Uncle Peck’s wife, she tries to justify her husband’s behaviors by insisting that it is her niece fault that he pays so much attention to Lil Bit. I do not understand how she allows a child, to be victimized by an adult, just because of her love to her husband. Ultimately, the person who is fully responsible for the situation is Uncle Peck. There are no excuses for his behaviors. As a small child, Uncle Peck makes Lil Bit do things against her will. For instance, when they are alone in the car for the first time, Lil Bit questions and tries to get Uncle Peck to stop feeling on her private parts; but he ignores her and continues to abuse her. As a child, Lil Bit handled the situation correctly. Whenever a person says stop, it means to discontinue any further actions.

In some ways, Lil Bit decision to continue the affair with Uncle Peck could have been influenced by her family’s views on sex and sexuality. It was very strange that the family discussed sex, so openly around one another. The part that really freaked me out was how everyone got their nick names; that really disgust me. As a family, they really needed to clarify and explain what sex really was. The family treated sex as a joke and women as a commodity, which probably allowed Lil Bit to think that she was doing the “right” thing. The thing that amazes me is how everyone ignored all the signs of a pedophile. Some distinct features of a pedophile include someone is closely related to the child, a person that has a strong interest and enjoys doing things with a child, or someone that is insecure or an outcast. Uncle Peck fits all these descriptions. Throughout the play, Uncle Pecks always finds a way to spend time with Lil Bit, instead of anyone taking notice to this situation everyone tries to commend his behavior as being a father figure to her.

As I think back about all the details in the story, I really liked the way Vogel structured the play. The plot was very interesting and it allowed the reader to stay curious throughout the story. The only thing that disturbed me was the minor parts of the abuse. There were several times, when I had to put the book down and pick it back up. In conclusion, the play was very interesting and raised some questions that should make all individuals aware of this problem.

A Family Affair

The other day in class we discussed which character within Paula Vogel’s play, How I Learned to Drive, had the power. That discussion was incredibly in depth, but somehow the issue of responsibility became entangled within it. That discussion was not elaborated on. Vogel knows the same truth anyone who’s interacted with other people could tell you; that responsibility is a difficult beast to pin down. It’s easy to point out who pushed over the chair, or who has their hand in the cookie jar. Blame is simple to assign, but true responsibility is a lot harder. Add two people and it becomes almost impossible. The problem is, and any good historian will tell you this, the winner writes the history. Is Uncle Peck to blame for what happened to ‘Lil Bit? Is he responsible? Yes in the simplest and most straight-forward way possible he is. Uncle Peck is a child molester, and that is a simple truth. He forces himself upon a child, and uses complex adult seduction and manipulation to gain ‘Lil Bit’s complicity in his sexual acts. At the same time it’s possible Uncle Peck is not entirely responsible. There is a strange difference between the way he treats ‘Lil Bit and the way he treats Bobby. His seduction method is the same at the beginning, but it’s the follow through that causes issues with Peck’s character. A child molester is a child molester because they molest children. Peck’s interest in ‘Lil Bit goes way beyond her childhood. He claims to love her, and as easy as it is to look at him and say it’s an excuse to get her to let him touch her, it doesn’t quite fit. He goes against his essential nature as a child molester by continuing to want her after she is mature. Is it the kind of love we know? Obviously not, and it’s certainly not a healthy love, but without being inside his head we can’t say it’s not love. Where is ‘Lil Bit in all this? Is she silent? I find it morally repugnant to blame a victim of sexual abuse for the abuse, and I won’t go so far as to say that ‘Lil Bit has overt blame in all of this. At the same time ‘Lil Bit responds to Peck, and it is hard for her to break away from him. She has spent so much time being loved by him it’s probably hard to let that go. Does she love him back? Maybe she does. It wouldn’t be impossible; Stockholm Syndrome is a scientifically proven emotional response. What about Peck’s death from drinking? Is ‘Lil Bit responsible for that? As a descendant of two different Irish families I know a good bit about alcoholism, and I can tell you all it takes to make a dry drunk fall is one drink. Does ‘Lil Bit know that? It’s impossible to tell; because while we know she is struggling with her own alcoholism she hasn’t tried her hand at sobriety yet. It is possible to say that when she tells him to take the drink she was angry, and so she did put it in his hand. I tend to think that given Peck’s affection for her he would have started drinking again with or without her help. Without any support system or reason to stay sober a drunk will inevitably fall again. So I don’t entirely blame Peck, but I don’t blame ‘Lil Bit much at all. So who is responsible? Who holds the most blame? Is it society for instilling certain macho preclusions within men, and for making the picture of feminine sexuality young and innocent girls? Is the chemical imbalance that causes Peck to prey on children to blame? Maybe it’s whoever abused Peck if he was abused at all. If I had to look at one cause for all the trouble I would honestly say the blame (or responsibility) has to be shared. It was Peck’s responsibility to keep the acceptable lines drawn between himself and his niece. It was his responsibility to care for her, and to treat her the way an eleven-year-old girl is supposed to be treated. So Peck is to blame for his actions in that sense. He shares the blame though with ‘Lil Bit’s family. It takes a village to raise a child is the old maxim, but in this play it took a family to make a tragedy. The Mother character puts her daughter into a position no child should ever be put in. The Aunt character senses what is happening, puts the blame on her minor niece, and then doesn’t try to stop it. Big Poppa teaches her she’s not good for anything but sex anyway and her Grandmother tells her ghost stories about sex, but encourages and allows Big Poppa’s aggressive sexual attacks in front of ‘Lil Bit. Between the group of them they give ‘Lil bit no reason not to bite onto Peck’s bait, and no safe harbor to go to when it starts. It is their responsibility to protect her and raise her to be a strong and independent woman. Instead they leave her alone constantly with a man who raises all their suspicions, almost never question her, instill a sense of blame in her, and fill her with mature sexuality and no healthy way to channel or understand it.

Therapy for the Abused Soul

In How I Learned to Drive, Paula Vogel presents a sensitive, taboo subject by using both humor and honesty. She takes us on a journey through a complex relationship between a niece and her uncle. The driving lessons are symbolic in that Lil' Bit traveled down the bumpy roads of life just as she did those roads in Maryland while on her driving lesson. From the humor of grandma and grandpa, to the Driver's Manual that exudes lessons of life, this play presents an interesting look at the subject of incest.
I applaud Paula Vogel for this realistic portrayal of the cycle of abuse. I think this play offers abuse victims, in a sense, some type of encouragement that there is the ability to forgive and survive. This is strictly my opinion. I, in no way shape or form, would never claim to know the "appropriate" response to abuse. But perhaps, in some way, this can act as a form of therapy and can help victims confront abuse and somehow find the strength to move on.
It's sad to think about the horrible manipulation of this poor young girl. On the other hand, we laughed at the funny comments interjected by the "Greek Chorus". I, for a moment, forgot about the serious subject of incest that was taking place in the story. But then again, laughing and crying are the two emotions that are the most therapeutic when faced with life's unexpectancies.

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Communication Breakdown?

In her memoir, The Year of Magical Thinking, Joan Didion explores the nature of grief and its impact on the human psyche. After the unexpected death of her husband, and more importantly companion, Didion is left to grapple with the struggles of her everyday, “ordinary” life and the overwhelming desire to remain strong in the face of her daughter’s ultimately fatal illness. For any person, the events which took place in Didion’s life in a matter of months would be an incredibly hard burden to shoulder; for anyone, the toll of the stress would be both physically and emotionally incapacitating. Yet, Didion was not afforded the opportunity to “fall apart” when the need arose, and for that, I must say, I truly admire her grit. Perhaps my bias is shaped by my admiration for her might in the face of such suffering. I truly cannot image the amount of pain Didion must have suffered.

With that said, I also enjoyed her novel on a literary and analytical level. Didion is obvious a lover of literature, of the power of words to explore, enlighten, and elucidate. Yet, in her memoir, words become a source of healing and a place of solitude. So often in life, we use words to fill empty spaces and we lose their meanings. The symbol connected to the word is undermined by our frequent and irreverent use of the word. However, Didion is fully aware of the impact of the words she chooses. Her life’s work and her understanding of the world around her rely on her ability to communicate her emotion through syntax and word choice. The need to write, read, comprehend, and share meaningful words becomes not only a means of maintaining some semblance of control, but also a sign of normalcy.

Didion has, at the time of the book's publication, lived a year after the death of one of the two most important people in her life; finding her place in the ordinary through communication has been her only constant. Ironically, Didion uses her ordinary abilities to express the extremely inordinate circumstances of her life in the previous months. Even when she speaks of her "mudgy" period, Didion is able to express her apprehensions and desperate fear through her voracious consumption of medical texts and her subsequent pestering of medical professionals. In this way, Didion's ordinary talents of communication, even through experiences so horrifically tragic, are elevated to a level of reverence and idealized awe.

Grief and Reality

Most of us, even those who have lost someone close – be they family members, spouse, or other – have not experienced the kind of tragedy Joan Didion suffers in The Year of Magical Thinking. Imagine the situation: your (happy and recently wedded) child is suddenly hospitalized, is in critical condition, and you have been standing by her side vigilantly, seeing little improvement, hoping against hope that she recovers; then, after a grueling night of this, you go home and sit down to dinner where your husband proceeds to have a massive coronary – right before your very eyes – and dies on the spot. Who has experienced reality on such harsh terms? And furthermore, who wouldn’t want to believe that what happened wasn’t real? Of course Didion seems “detached” and fails to accept John’s death at first. Her logical thinking and emoting capacities were severely limited, if not predominantly shut down. This is why the doctors at New York Hospital (where John’s body was taken) deemed her a “cool customer”; the woman was in shock. To make these matters worse, Quintana later seems to improve, only to fall ill again and has to undergo brain surgery. This is life – reality – pulling out the rug from Didion once again. The fact that Didion has been accustomed to a relatively privileged life may not make her a more likeable character, but it may be at least a small factor in why she is in such disbelief. Didion refers to this in the first lines of the book with, “The question of self pity.” Some of us may have thought this very thing, just differently. As in, “Why me?”
But Didion is far from helpless. She wants control and laments that some things in life are “beyond [her] ability to control or manage[...]” This is a theme throughout her work: the urge to mend the ills of herself and her loved ones. This is not then, some sort of detachment. This is her way of coping. She further fulfills this desire to control by learning all she can about Quintana’s condition, the circumstances surrounding John’s death, and everything else relevant to her situation, including how to grieve. This woman is connected to these events and connected intensely. It’s reality she has to grasp at, and she does so by stating things the only way she knows how; that is, factually and unflinchingly.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Didion: Grief and Faith

In The Year of Magical Thinking Joan Didion gives us a narrative detailing her inner-monologue during the year immediately following the fatal heart attack of her husband John. Didion's grief is presented in an unpolished form; Didion does not filter her grief. Grief is, by nature, selfish and self-centered. Grief is not for the deceased; grief is not for the other survivors; grief completely exists for the grieving. Additionally, Didion's grief is portrayed in its rawest and most uncensored state. Didion realizes that some readers will think negatively of this memoir. She knows that some will see it as "boo-hooing" or "thumbsucking". People who would see grief this way have either never felt grief or have refused to face their on grief without deluding themselves. Faith is opposite of grief. Faith gives a future to the deceased and it offers inspiration to other survivors. Faith offers fairy tales to cope with loss. So why do we read books like The Year of Magical Thinking? What do we ask from Didion's and other writter's narratives of tragedy and loss. We see in their narratives the most powerful beings in the universe, human beings, battling with powerful, unseen forces. It's like real life science fiction, but not drivel with space ships and super powers.