Saturday, April 25, 2009

Thoughts on "Objectivist Lamp"

As the object was the point of interest for Carl Rakosi, so "Objectivist Lamp" is my point of interest this week.

On a first reading this poem seems exceptionally simple. Rakosi devotes twelve lines to the description of an ivory lamp with a "batik lamp shade" (L. 10-11) that rests on top. Significantly, this description is not made in comparative or contrasting terms. While the lamp is described as if it has hands and a breast this is owing to the fact that it is a female figurine. Rakosi does not attempt to invest the lamp with any definition outside direct description.

The structure of this poem is in line with these thematic issues. The inter-locking lines of the poem are a physical representation of the "hand crossed" (L. 5) figurine that the lamp is styled after. In the same way that the ivory woman holds the illuminating light bulb, the poem holds the illuminating title "Objectivist Lamp". The poet uses the structure of the poem to highlight the importance of the singular item that is described throughout.

Each of these issues underline the now useless division of form and content in the modernist and post-modernist period. While we can identify different formal and thematic techniques, their results are inextricably linked and impossible to separate. Although many have questioned the worth of such objectivism as art, it is hard to conceive of a poem that more closely captures every aspect of its object.

By adapting Rakosi's direct approach, literary criticism could create a more coherent and useful accompaniment to literature.

-The English Student

Saturday, April 18, 2009

A Commuting Story

Marc sat in the usual seat on the usual bus home at the usual time in the evening.

After a long day he was not in the mood to read. He put his fifty-nine year old copy of The Great Gatsby to one side and began staring out of the window. The low dulcet tones of the voice in his ears coupled with the monotonous rumbling of the bus lulled him towards a sleep-like state. The buildings of the city blurred together and then began fading into the outer-urban landscape. Somewhere in the transfer Marc's eyes closed.

They rolled back behind the lids, covering Marc's vision in a dull sepia tone. A soothing sight for a soothed mind. Then suddenly darkness. Utter and complete darkness as if the sun had been destroyed and perpetual black had fallen.  This abrupt change caused a tremor of shock to run through Marc's mind. He had no position, no thoughts, no context and no existence in this sudden darkness. Marc quickly opened his eyes (out of shock more than fear) and the world reformed around him. The tunnel rolled back past the top of the bus and completely out of view. 

It was as if his mind had broken and restarted itself. He could describe the sight outside the window; the concrete barriers and sterile grasslands. But they now meant something else. The words may have remained, but their essence was different. Marc saw the bridge and put his book back into his bag. He pressed the stop button and got off the bus at the usual stop at the usual time.

But nothing was usual ever again.

-The English Student

Saturday, April 11, 2009

Becoming Raskolnikov

Dostoevsky presents us with one of the most troubled and warped characters in literature: Rodion Romanovich Raskolnikov.

This former student wanders the streets of St. Petersbourg, wallowing in his self-imposed depression and inhaling the noxious elements of the city. In an attempt to gain the capital he needs to avoid working in his future he robs and kills two women. The majority of the novel is then devoted to Rodyo's internal struggle with his conscience and external struggle with the police. But throughout the text it is disturbingly easy to empathise with this character.

Rodyo is in search of a small amount of capital that will allow him to live without the constraints of work. With this capital he would likely return to his studies and pursue intellectual enquiry in his areas of interest. Members of contemporary society often feel the same way. Every person who plays the lottery, gambles in any way or commits a crime for monetary gain hopes for the one big payout that will give them freedom. If I could study and write without monetary fear I would be a much happier person.

But Rodyo suffers from a serious character defect that points to the folly of this strategy. His arrogance and feeling of self-importance allows Rodyo to destroy other lives if it benefits his own. While we all want economic freedom we would be obligated to forcefully take the capital of others to get it. The one huge payout that is always on the horizon is not worth the destruction of others who only seek the same thing.

It is useful to empathise with Raskolnikov; but we must strive not to become him.

-The English Student

Saturday, April 4, 2009

Aeon Flux: Chronophasia

"The waking comes soon, like a storm."

Aeon and Trevor search for a virus that creates human happiness in a Breen jungle-facility. Trevor discusses the origins of the virus and claims that it is an attempt to regain a past human attribute. This trait gave us a universal connection to every other member of society but was apparently lost through evolution. But we never actually lost this connection, we have just forgotten its origins.

The efforts of the Breen scientists in recreating this attribute imitates real social creations. Religion is one such example. Religion hinges on our inherent need to connect to other people and elements of existence. Other examples of these patterns include the connections fostered by science, law and education. Clearly we are attempting to represent our universal inclinations in social structures.

But should we build towards this universality or move back to our natural state? Neither option is feasible. To try to recreate a natural tendency through unnatural means is folly. We also must face the reality that we have become inherently social creature and cannot retreat from that. Instead, we should recognise that this universal connection has never left us. Science, law and all other human endeavours are attempts to foster this connection.

So long as we connect with one, we connect with all.

-The English Student

Saturday, March 28, 2009

Oh! The Angst!

Cynicism has become an important part of student life.

This past week has seen my pessimism reach previously un-fathomed depths. Along with the usual bitching and moaning relating to the college/country/planet authorities, the smaller things have come within the reticule of my depressing rifle. The aggression of certain breeds of bird, the use of the word "supposebly" and the sogginess of tomatoes have all been the subject of bitter, never-ending tirades.

Oddly enough, however, I no longer view this pessimism as a bad thing. With previous little time left in college, it is the right of the student to verbally tear to shreds every single aspect of existence. Nothing should be left along from our scathing and snide remarks that undermine the very laws of existence. We are thus united under a banner of negation.

For after all, this college era is most certainly ending. We will not have the luxury of complaint for much longer as we must finally engage with the system rather than deriding it from afar. Inevitably, we must become the people we despise. But if we can hold on to the smallest part of our disquiet, or at least the memory of it, then perhaps we can give future generations less to complain about.

If not, then at least they can enjoy their small rebellion as we have enjoyed ours!

-The English Student

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Deconstruction, not Destruction

Although it is an old theory, the idea of 'deconstruction' as posited by Jacques Derrida and others still has worth today.

'Deconstructionism' deals with the idea that there are no overall theories that can properly encapsulate existence. This school of thought came as a reaction to theorists who believed that literary texts are examples of unifying constructs that create understanding. These theories were pushed further with hypotheses that claimed that language itself was without any universal meaning and is a hollow construction that belies true existence.

These theories have often been derided for being elitist and abstract. On the surface, it is very easy to believe methods of deconstruction to be out of touch with common literary practice and common human existence. After all, by claiming that there is no universality in relation to literary texts, one can be seen to ignore the common tropes and form that are latent in countless instance of literature. It seems that we should take a slightly less extreme approach to criticism if we are going to engage with the theories of Derrida.

Indeed, it is important to make the distinction between 'deconstruction' and 'destruction'. We must not completely ignore all aspects of a text, but instead we should reduce them down to their basic form. The value of 'deconstruction' is that it attempts to make room for contrasting theories while looking for an underlying trope common to them all. Instead of forcing writers and texts together, sparing use of 'deconstructionist' approaches will allow a critic to identify the foundations of these texts rather than create a hollow amalgamation of the issues they deal with.

In this way, 'deconstruction' should be identified as another useful band in the spectrum of literary criticism.

-The English Student

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Steinbeck and Orwell: Approaching an understanding of Capitalism

Orwell offers a solution to a major problem identified in Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath.

The Joad family travel throughout the southern United States in a bid to find employment and a new home after the destruction of their farm. Steinbeck counterpoints the personal issues of the family with the general plight of the citizens of the country. The ordinary labour workers are becoming victims to the increasingly powerful leaders of industry that have emerged in the economy. These capitalists have gained so much power that it makes more economical sense to let crops die than to pay people to harvest them. Steinbeck indicates that this capital will fall into the hands of fewer and fewer people as this process continues.

But any solution he offers is undermined by a general impotence on the part of the labour movement. Instead, we have to look to other writers to find potential alleviations to this struggle. In Nineteen-Eighty Four we find a society that is constantly in war. The constant need to supply products for the war effort has created stable employment for millions and more importantly, has prevented a revolution by the working class. War can bring capital from outside a country back into it and this process can allow wealth to trickle down through the main capitalists to the individual workers.

Of course, this is a very bleak and distressing conclusion but the solidity of it cannot be denied. Even Marx can be adopted to this theory when his strategy of working within systems rather than revolutionising them is taken into account. However, this system will inevitably lead to strife and pain as increasing levels of violence (or at least destruction of products) would be necessary to sustain it. Is there no way of improving the system?

Can we no longer control the capitalist leviathan that we have created?

-The English Student