When reading The Stranger, I sometimes find it hard to believe that Meursault is even human. The way he reacts to certain situations just seems to be unreal. Some people in my class have mentioned things like Meursault seems to be autistic in the way that his way with dealing with people is just off. But I think that if he were autistic, there would be some sort of indication that there is something going on beneath his surface; because autistic people are human too. Camus makes no effort to indicate that there is anything under Meursault's apathetic exterior. Whenever I read about him, I feel like he is just a hollow man with no emotion, no passion, no discrepancy (which I somewhat admire), and no deep intellectual thoughts. In fact, the deepest we have gotten so far in Meursault's mind is when he is in his cell and he remembers things (we don't even know what)! He only observes things on a surface level and is tempted by shallow needs. Meursault's whole manner is just wrong. Nothing matters to him.
After learning that Camus was a philosopher in his time, I could suddenly make some sense out of Meursault's character. This is because even though I don't quite understand Meursault, I understand philosophers and what they do. One thing philosophers do is they show people how to think. During this process, philosophers will metaphorically take everything you know, throw it on the ground, and stomp all over it. When a person's way of thinking is challenged as such, the natural reaction is to reject the new way of thinking. They may think something along the lines of "no, that can't be!", or "That's wrong!", or maybe even just the basic "No!". This is exactly the kind of reaction that Meursault generates among readers of The Stranger. Meursault is merely a literary vehicle for Camus' philosophy.
Now that it is obvious that Camus is trying to convey a philosophical message, the obvious question remains. What is the underlying philosophy that Camus is trying to convey? I believe that the philosophy Camus is trying to convey is a very atheistic one. The underlying message seems to be that life is meaningless and humans are so futile that nothing they can do can stop the meaningless cycle (maybe he would have thought a little differently a few years later if he wrote this after the nuclear bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki). Camus even goes as far as to make Meursault shoot and kill a man for no good reason as he thought it didn't make a difference whether or not he pulled the trigger. I also believe that the underlying philosophy is atheistic because of Meursault's encounter with his lawyer, who I believe is Meursault's polar opposite. The lawyer is a passionate, opinionated, borderline hysterical Christian who believes there is some rhyme and reason to life. Their encounter shows how much their philosophies conflict with one another:
"I was about to tell him he was wrong to dwell on it, because it really didn't matter. But he cut me off and urged me one last time, drawing himself up to his full height and asking me if I believed in God. I said no. He sat down indignantly. He said it was impossible; all men believed in God, even those who turn their backs on him. That was his belief, and if he were ever to doubt it, his life would become meaningless."
On the other hand, instead of trying to make the reader believe this atheistic philosophy, Camus may be using Meursault as a litmus test for the philosophy. Meursault's experiences and thoughts may be Camus' way of saying that this is not what you should believe. But regardless of what Camus is trying to say, there is definitely some underlying message in the story.
The ending of the Metamorphosis is all messed up and sad. Gregor is the most unfortunate character of any book ever. Before he transformed, all he ever did was work his butt off to pay off his "helpless" family's debt so that they can live a decent lifestyle and this is the thanks he gets. Then when he needs them the most, they lock him up in a room, pretend like he doesn't exist, and starve him to death. Some people may say that such a reaction is understandable since Gregor is a giant cockroach and can't show any human emotions. The sad thing is that Gregor is the most human person in the entire book and his parents are the monsters that exploited his human compassion and forced him to work off their debt so that even as a human, he might as well have been a miserable cockroach. Then it is apparent that Gregor was cheated from his youth since his parents and sister could obviously take care of themselves after Gregor turned into a roach. But then Gregor, this sad, loving creature that felt nothing but love for his monstrous parents, dies. The parents mourn Gregor for two sentences (I would think about five minutes according to logic). Then, after that, the sun comes out, his parents are happy that he is gone, they go for a nice drive out in the country since "they could never do it with Gregor around". They even start thinking about getting a new apartment. I feel so sorry for Gregor. I wish that Gregor would beat up his father when he was human. I wanted to beat up Gregor's father for making Gregor Daddy's little sweatshop worker. It's one thing if the has to work with the father (my dad had to work for his father when he was very young to support the family), but if you are perfectly capable of working and you make your son work for you, you are a despicable worthless human being. The child is supposed to owe the parents a debt that can never be repaid. It should never be the other way around like we see in The Metamorphosis.
Reading Franz Kafka's The Metamorphosis is a bit of a unique experience for me. For one thing, I don't think I've ever read a book with such a specific, gloomy mood as Kafka's book. Secondly, besides the first two Harry Potter books, I haven't read anything else that has had such a significant impact on pop culture. The whole class discussion on what makes something "Kafkaesque" combined with the intriguing alternate world presented in The Metamorphosis is really making me interested in finding some Kafkaesque influences in pop culture.
For starters, I should probably start out with defining what makes something Kafkaesque. From what I found, something that is Kafkaesque takes something very familiar and distorts it into something somewhat unsettling. Kafkaesque images are usually in/on a dark background and have little to no color variation as well as being physically distorted. Every Kafkaesque image I came across was either black and white or brown (which often included dark swirling lines). Also, Kafkaesque media (especially music) seem to attach itself to childlike innocence. For example, we have all probably seen an old horror movie or two where there is a child's music box that plays creepy music. Basically, Kafkaesque things take something and distort it and make it literally, spiritually, or metaphorically darker.
A familiar example of something that is Kafkaesque is Edward Scissor-hands. He is a perfect example of a Kafkaesque character both aesthetically and personality-wise. In terms of physical appearance, he has pasty white skin, swirling jet black hair, and wears all black, which are both attributes of a dimly colored Kafkaesque painting. In terms of personality, Edward Scissor-hands is basically a child trapped in an adult's body (plus he has scissors for hands). Edward Scissor-hands is actually a lot like Gregor Samsa in the book because he accidentally hurts people in the movie, which causes people to fear what he is much like Gregor's family fears him for what he is and does. Both are misunderstood and both just want to please people.
Here is an example of how even hip-hop can become Kafkaesque. This song is from the classic Cypress Hill album Black Sunday. This type of theme is unusual for Cypress Hill, and even more unusual in hip-hop. Despite its unusually dark theme, this album went triple platinum and contains the classic single Insane in the Brain. This album is very Kafkaesque because it took the well-known art form of gangsta rap music and gave it a dark twist. The album cover is very dimly colored and has different shades of brown combined with the swirling clouds in the background, which are all key attributes to Kafkaesque works of art. This particular track is very Kafkaesque because if you listen to the lyrics by themselves, they make up a typical gangsta rap song. But the instrumental part of the song sounds like it's straight out of a horror movie, which gives the familiar genre a bizarre twist.
I actually don't know too much about this work of art. I couldn't find out who drew it, and it's not exactly pop culture, but it is a perfect example of Kafkaesque art, and this particular example is directly inspired by The Metamorphosis. It has all the elements of a Kafkaesque work of art. It has the familiar businessman suit, tie, and suitcase twisted by the image of the cockroach combined with the swirling red aura in the background, which is a welcome change to swirling black lines. This picture is obviously portraying Gregor from the book in his traveling salesman attire in his metamorphic state. That may even be a fabric sample he is holding on the right. This picture adequately portrays the feeling I get whenever I read the book.
I believe that Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events shows how Kafka has affected other authors. In case it wasn't obvious enough, Snicket's juvenile readers' series deals with some rather dark subjects; this is of course an aspect of being Kafkaesque. The three main children are orphaned and then forced to live with their uncle, who is a shady character that is just after their money. There are thirteen books in the entire series (the last was released on a Friday the 13th), The kids are always on the run from their (to say the least) abusive uncle, and I believe at least one person dies in each book. This series is about as dark as preteen books get. Another thing that makes this Kafkaesque is that it has that same distorted dream-like reality to it. I reacall in the third book, the children go into a house built over the edge of a cliff and kept from falling by a few two-by-fours. The house was unstable, a refrigerator crushed someone to death, a doorknob exploded. Then the children had to escape their uncle by rowing a dingy through sea monster-infested waters. A connection I see between this book and The Metamorphasis is the messed up family dynamic between the characters in both books. Which family is even more messed up is debatable.
This last picture isn't exactly Kafkaesque, but I believe it is partially Kafkaesque in the sense that it twists something we know; in this case what it means to be Kafkaesque. Basically, this little comic is a twist on a twist, which some may argue is VERY Kafkaesque. It is a clever parody of the opening line to the book The Metamorphasis which I thought would be interesting to share.
There are many examples of things out there that are Kafkaesque. I think that many times when people create something that is Kafkaesque, they don't even realize it. These are just a few examples of how Franz Kafka's tormented mind helped mold pop culture that can still be seen today.
I now see how the whole bullfighting analogy fits with the story in The Sun Also Rises. What comes to mind when I think about this are the brilliant analogies that Joey came up with in the third period class. From what I remembered, Joey said something along the lines of the bullfight representing what is happening to the main characters. Both Cohn and Michael are bulls who are charging for Brett, who represents the matador. Both Jake and Bill are just steers that draw the "bulls" closer to the "matador". When Cohn falls for Brett, she sticks a metaphorical sword in Cohn's shoulder. Everything revolves around Brett, who is of course the Matador. I couldn't have said it any better myself.
I think this analogy can go beyond the book itself. I believe that reading this book is like a bullfight, where the reader is the bull and Hemingway is the clever Matador that steers and goads the reader the way he wants. His whole writing style seems to steer the reader towards certain thoughts like a Matador steers a bull into a certain position. One way Hemingway does this is with his Ezra Pound-inspired Imagism, which is a literary sleight of hand where the writer writes about one thing and then writes about a different thing, thus blending the two together. This can be seen when Hemingway quickly goes from describing the bullfight to describing Michael and Cohn's little quarrel in the stands, or from when Hemingway goes from visually describes the gay men in the bar to talking about Jake's thoughts. Much like a Matador swiftly moves his cape from one position to another to maneuver a bull, Hemingway swiftly moves the focus of the book from one event to another to maneuver the reader's thoughts.
Another way that Hemingway steers the reader like a Matador is with his whole iceberg effect that hints at things under the surface. Since Hemingway rarely spells these subtle happenings out loud, the reader's mind naturally fills in the blanks. But this isn't purely random. Hemingway uses subtle hints to steer the reader's mind in a certain direction. For example, when Bill says something along the lines of "Why doesn't she go with you-- I mean me...", it implies that Bill knows about Jake's condition because he spoke without thinking and tries to correct it so he doesn't offend his friend. Or when Jake talks to Montoya and calls himself a "Descojonado" (Spanish for "one without genitals"), it implies that Montoya knows as well (Chapter 11). It's all one big bullfight.
Oh and I want to take a fun little poll: if you were making a movie version of The Sun Also Rises, who would cast to play who? (They don't have to be actors). My poll:
Jake: Sam Worthington/Daniel Craig
Cohn: Keanu Reeves
Bill: Charlie Sheen
Brett: Kesha/Charlize Theron
Michael: John Travolta
Pedro: Ramon Rodriguez
Before I get into any serious literary analysis on The Sun Also Rises, I just want to express a few thoughts that have been bothersome floating around in my head. The first thing is that ever since we first discussed Jake's injury, I've been having strange nightmare about me being in the middle of a war zone and the second I look down, I see that my crotch has been turned into hamburger meat (blood, grease, and all). Another thing going on inside my head is a certain story I heard about a man who had a similar injury to Jake's. This man decided to cut off one of his fingers so that it could be fashioned into a penis. This makes me wonder how Jake's story would be different if such modern medical techniques were used to fix him up. As disturbing as that story is, I can't help but to think which finger I would use if something like that happened to me. I agree with Freud's theory that a man losing his genitals is a primal fear for men. I think that even women understand that fear and pain. When we first talked about Jake's wound, I noticed that some of the girls in class said "that sucks" and/or made faces twisted with horror. In all frankness, having your penis blown off sucks and I don't enjoy thinking about it.
Now that all that is out of the way, I can discuss the book in a more appropriate manner. As much as I feel sorry for Jake, I feel equally as sorry for Brett. Jake and Brett obviously have feelings for each other yet a healthy relationship between the two of them seems impossible. Brett was the one who tended to Jake's wounds. In a sense, she's suffering emotionally as much as Jake. Plus, in the part when Brett tells Jake about her and Cohn, it became obvious to me that Brett is the one who has to make the tough decision, which is a burden that Jake doesn't have to carry (because he is basically powerless). Even though she comes off as a charming character, I definitely think there is something mentally off about Brett. For one thing, what kind of woman in her thirties parties on a regular basis? She must have seen horrible injuries from World War I and yet she acts carefree and promiscuous. I sense something something very deep with Brett under the surface. I think Brett serves as Ernest Hemingway's eyes, especially considering that they both offered medical services during World War I. I can't really explain it, but I feel like if we learn more about Brett, then we can learn more about Hemingway.
There's no question in my mind that The Sun Also Rises is a novel that protests the horror and suffering caused by World War I. However, in the part where the Count shows off his arrow wounds to Brett and Jake, I couldn't help but think that Hemingway believes that there is something bad-ass about going through a war. I think this scene brilliantly makes the reader draw a line between bad-ass and terrible. To me, I draw the line around losing a limb or being mutilated in any way. Maybe this is just Hemingway's macho personality showing through.
Even though it isn't the most exciting movie (unlike a movie I recently saw called Hobo with a Shotgun), The Hours is an interesting twist on Virginia Woolf's novel Mrs. Dalloway. Having just recently wrote a pastiche on Virginia Woolf's writing style, I realize that this movie is a cinematic version of our pastiche writing assignment. This makes me wonder whether or not the screenwriters actually wrote it as if Virginia Woolf herself was writing it. Since Virginia Woolf's writing style is already very cinematic, making a movie based on her work seems like the perfect pastiche. Conversely, I realized that if Virginia Woolf was a screenwriter, she could write the greatest chick flicks ever.
One of the things I noticed about the story in The Hours is that unlike the book Mrs. Dalloway, the movie includes Virginia Woolf's side of the story. More importantly, Virginia serves as a shot caller in the movie. Since the movie makes all the characters seem so real, Virginia Woolf seems almost like a god in the way she controls their destinies with her ideas. This makes me think that the story in the movies may tie to Greek mythology in the sense that she is a god with her own particular personality. The only problem with this is that I don't know which god she would be.
Despite its uneventfulness, The Hours is an intricate and interesting twist on a literary classic.
I think I understand why Virginia Woolf included Septimus' story in Mrs. Dalloway. I think that Septimus and Mrs Dalloway are more similar than most people give them credit for. The basis for this assumption is the fact that on page 179, when Clarissa hears about Septimus' suicide, she seems immediately to understand and even see Septimus' death. The point I am trying to make is that I think that Clarissa can see herself as being Septimus in another life.
Allow me to explain this concept further: Throughout the book, Virginia Woolf gives evidence that all life seems to be interconnected, and that we are constantly affecting the people around us whether we intend to or not (and vice versa). One way that we can be affected is simply by feeling an inexplicable connection with someone. In life, there are some strangers that you meet or hear about that are just that: strangers. You don't really know them, understand them, or identify with them; even if you know a little bit about them. But in other cases, there are people you don't know that, after learning a little bit about them, you can identify with and even understand. For me, an example of the former would be some of the people you see and read about in the Guinness World Record Book. I would see people like the person with over 99% of his body covered in a giant tattoo and just feel completely alienated from him. An example of the latter for me is a man who goes by the name Professor Splash. Professor Splash was contestant on the popular reality TV show America's Got Talent. His act was simple yet insane: he would belly flop into a small inflatable children's pool from the ludicrous height of 36 feet! And he lives! Much like Clarissa Dalloway admires Septimus for having the courage of committing suicide, I admire Professor Splash for having the courage and skill of belly-flopping into twelve inches of water from insane heights. I felt especially connected to him when he said, "the pain lasts a minute, the glory lasts a lifetime," which is EXACTLY what I would have said. I can imagine myself being more like him in another life, much like I believe Clarissa can probably imagine being more like Septimus in another life.
The reason that Clarissa and Septimus seem so different can be explained by the Blank Slate Theory. The Blank Slate Theory basically states that we all start off as blank slates and as we grow up, the people and the environment around us shape the people we all turn out to be. Therefore, I think that early in their respective lives, Septimus and Clarissa started off relatively similarly: both were regular denizens of London society, both had deep thoughts about life, and Septimus was even portrayed as being rather effeminate when he was younger. The main factor that drove their personalities and lives in completely different directions was of course the war, where Septimus suffered from shell shock while Clarissa was leaving Peter for Richard. Basically, what I am trying to say that Clarissa and Septimus share some similar core factor, and this core factor may possibly be a result of their upbringings.
Much like me and Professor Splash don't have anything in common on a surface level, Clarissa Dalloway and Septimus Warren Smith are very different on a surface level. However, if you look deeper than that, you'll find that we all have some sort of connection to one another, which is one of the main ideas that Virginia Woolf was trying to get across in this book. I guess it pays to look past skin deep appearances.
