Surrealism

It is intriguing to hear or see what secrets ly behind many old towns, especially those centuries old.  In Juan Rulfo’s novel Pedro Paramo the entire pueblo, Comala, is huanted by the many wrong doings done at the hands of Pedro Paramo and his son Miguel.  Throughout the novel evidence of a subdued population leaves the reader longing for vengence.  However, both men seem to escape any severe punishment.  Miguel’s death after his fall from the horse did not seem a harsh enough punishment, and Pedro’s death only left the reader wondering why he did not suffer any more.  

The time period in which the novel is written certainly portrays what life must have been for many poor peasant families in Mexico before the Mexican Revolution.  Growing up, I often heard my great-grand parents speak of the revolution.  Although they themselves did not ride with Carranza, Villa, or Zapata, they often helped feed the soldiers and provided housing when the revolutionaries came to our pueblo. 

Pedro Paramo reminded me of the rich family which lived in our small pueblo.  They charged the poor families enourmous amounts of interest for borrowing money and robbed or murdered others that did not give in to their will.  When the revolution finally broke out, all the sons of the rich landowner were hung.  When the father lay dying, he was not allowed to receive last rites because his daughters feared they would be left penniless.   

Today where the old hacienda stood are several homes.  It is interesting to say that for the longest time, I have heard in part of the house people dressed in early century clothing have been seen by several people.  It seems the ghosts of the past don’t die that easily. 

Existentialism

After reading Beckett’s play Endgame I find myself feeling the same scary thoughts about the future of humanity.  In a new age of terrorism we are no longer as safe as we were in previous decades.  I used to believe wars and terrorist attacks happened in other countries, and now I am too afraid to go to a stadium or travel on a plane. 

The local news and the international news constantly broadcast attacks over U.S. policies, but what is the price we must pay for safety?  I often remember John F. Kennedy’s book Profiles in Courage and wonder if America will one day look back and at least accept the idea that a very unpopular political move helped prevent more serious occurances in future decades.  I certainly hope this is the case because a life similiar to that of Nell and Nag slowly decaying presents a very pessimistic view of the future if that were the case. 

El Realismo

 I enjoy reading historically based novels, and over the summer I had the opportunity to read Emile Zola’s novel Germinal.  The author made great use of description, which created vivid pictures of all the characters.  While I read the introduction to Sentimental Education I learnt Flaubert had influenced Zola. 

In class on Monday, I listened to the disillusion of the 19^th century for the French citizens, and all the evils that

 

 

didn’t seem to go away.  By 1848 the Republic had changed governments four times yet, poverty, social unrest, and corruption continued.  The citizen’s way of life whether economically or socially did not seem to get any better.  In addition, the September Laws only increased the government’s authority when it came to cracking down on opposition. 

  From a literary point of view, the words Flaubert used created vivid scenes of what happened, however, this disillusion after reading the book makes me wonder if Flaubert had other motives.  Why not write a novel that would stir up the emotions of the lower classes?  The novel portrayed a lack of energy or want among the elite to better conditions for those less fortunate.  Frederic ultimately portrayed a thoughtless, greedy, and egotistical character, which was too concerned for his own well being.  I believe the love he supposedly had for Madame Arnoux was because he could not have her. 

I would like to read anyone else’s opinion.  I am interested to hear if any of you thought the same as I did.  If you like to read historical novels, I would like to recommend Germinal by Emile Zola.  It is about the same length as the novel by Flaubert, but it has a great plot. 

El Romanticismo

 

I recently had to travel to Mexico for some personal business.  I drove through the states of Coahuila and San Luis Potosi, and for the first time I took great notice of the desert landscape.  I have traveled through this area many times but never really found much interest or appreciation.  Cactuses have never been a favorite.  Yet, these last few days I managed to look at the desert terrain in a different form.  It seemed beautiful to me.  As I watched endless hills and mountains of prickly and palm style shapes of cactuses over and over again, I recognized their importance. 

As I continued my trip further south the images of an arid landscape never went away.  I realized that I was only a small speck in this immense landscape, as all other inhabitants of this area, and yet organisms have learned to adapt and survive without much water.  This year from what I could tell had produced a higher level of rain, so what little grass is available is green.  I also recognized that my concept of a desert was lifeless, and that did not fit what I was seeing. 

While in class yesterday, the discussion of romanticism and the high value that is placed on nature reminded me of my recent road trip.  The paintings Dr. Conway showed us in class were an accurate portrayal of how I viewed this immense desert.   I could see endless miles of land full of cactuses, and yet I was this tiny person in a corner looking at the horizon.  What I realized from this experience is beauty does not always have to be nicely packaged; it can also be in the form of something that would at first glance seem lifeless.

Humanism

Since first being introduced to the classics as an undergraduate I have found an overwhelming fondness and appreciation for the Greek and Roman civilizations.  I regretfully say this, because I failed to read them at an earlier age. Nonetheless, I am always amazed with the knowledge and technological advancements antiquity possessed. 

My favorite playwright Euripides has often led me to question and want to understand the role of women in antiquity, not to mention his attitude toward women.  His tragic play, Medea, probably at best gives 21^st century readers a glimpse of what life must have been for women.  Aside from understanding the life of women, I find myself asking the “big questions”.  Did Euripides write Medea as a feminist supporter or a misogynist?    Did he feel sympathy for the lives women endured, or did he despise them for unknown reasons?  Why does Euripides lead us to feel sorrow for the protagonist and then transform our feelings of empathy for repudiation and condemnation when she becomes the antagonist?   In my mind, I see words and papers floating everywhere with a repetitive question; “Why?” In the end, I am fascinated and inundated with curiosity to learn more about antiquity. 

Reading Nicholas Mann’s The Origins of Humanism brought to my attention the period modern thinkers term as the “Dark Ages”.  So it seems this period wasn’t so dark after all.  Mann’s explanation on the origins of humanism describes men like Petrarch and Boccaccio incessantly searching for manuscripts and any evidence or clues that could be linked to the ancient civilizations.  Although, the medical and scientific fields did not advance for reasons of what we are familiar classic literature flourished and mostly thanks to the work of these two men.  Not only was Petrarch able to find new manuscripts, but he also managed to rectify incorrect interpretations as he did in Aeneas. 

Nicolas Mann states, “The more we learn about the period following the decline of Rome, the less dark and uncultured it appears; the more we inquire into what was reborn in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, the more we become aware of vital continuities with the past.”  Mann’s statement reminds me that somehow we cannot get away from that cyclical pattern man so desperately tries to avoid, but in an optimistic sense society certainly tries to learn and improve from the past.   

Although I have much more to learn about the history of humanism, Nicolas Mann has presented an interesting account.  I know that, as many others, I am very grateful for the rediscovery of the Greek tragedies during the “Dark Ages”.      

        Hayden White criticizes in; “The Historical Text as a Literary Artifact” from Tropics of Discourse, that historiography has tried to take a more scientific approach when writing about history.  White does not overlook the importance of relating the accuracy of facts, but he argues the historian must piece together bits or large amounts of information, and in order to do this he or she must create a story.  From this point of view it would seem appropriate to believe the historian is writing a narrative, however, I disagree with White because narratives can be embellished, and facts can be easily omitted for lack of importance.                 Let’s take for example the French Revolution, although there have been many books written about the events leading to the outbreak, each interpretation has had to have a verifiable source, if not, it is not accurate history.  It is true interpretations may vary, but, as White stated, this argument relies on the point of view being written from,  in addition to tone, writing style, or language.  No one can deny the French Revolution began with the storming of the Bastille.  To question why this happened, the historian would ask: What did Louis XVI do to provoke the situation and how did exterior motives contribute to the fall of the monarchy?  From this point, a theory may be created.  But, how does someone get the facts in order to prove this theory, Leopold von Ranke suggested going to the archives.                 It is difficult to believe literary writers and historiographers could be considered as having similar patterns when writing.  Even though, White stresses in both types of work a story must be told.  In truth, writing history states the author has pieced all the evidence and then retells his or her findings, but only based on the evidence that has been found.  In addition, moral issues or biases can be present, however, reality suggests that in order to consider a historical work as a good piece of history, the author must show all positions without taking any sides.  In other words, if his or her main argument is suddenly brought down because of new findings then it is better to revise the work at hand or leave it entirely.  As far as literary works are viewed, this scenario would not alter or completely revise the work because when writing literature it is permissible to emboss the truth and/or place moral judgments.  It is true that we can learn from literature because it can take actual events as examples, but nonetheless the author can exaggerate, partially omit, or completely forget the truth thus creating a work of fiction rather than a historical one.  I would prefer to stick to the scientific and objective notion because history cannot be considered a narrative only on the basis that the author is recreating past events in order to reach the reader.  Historiography has to have facts and evidence in order to prove a theory.       Hayden White has made an interesting argument, but I would suggest reading the works of other authors/historians such as, John Lewis Gaddis, Richard J. Evans, David Hackett Fischer, and Mark T. Gilderhus for reasons why history should not be considered a narrative.  I am sure Mr. White has not intended to anger or offend any historians with his essay, but only to stir up a few emotions. 

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