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Showing posts with label Ralph Ellison. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ralph Ellison. Show all posts

Monday, 1 August 2016

Some top 10 lists about books

- 10 favourite novels (updated):
Anna Karenina by Lev Tolstoy
War and Peace by Lev Tolstoy
Moby Dick by Herman Melville
Pnin by Vladimir Nabokov
Mansfield Park by Jane Austen
Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte
Dead Souls by Nikolai Gogol
Notes from Underground by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
Sentimental Education by Gustave Flaubert
The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner

- 10 most important novels- 10 novels that have most influenced me or been most significant to me in some ways:
Anna Karenina by Lev Tolstoy
War and Peace by Lev Tolstoy
Moby Dick by Herman Melville
Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison
Middlemarch by George Eliot
Emma by Jane Austen
Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert
Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

- 10 novels I hate the most:
The Book of Daniel by E. L. Doctorow
The Quiet American by Graham Greene
Corregidora by Gayl Jones
The Tattooed Girls by Joyce Carol Oates
Lord of the Flies by William Golding
Like Water for Chocolate by Laura Esquivel
Twilight by Stephenie Meyer
Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto
_
_
(A possible candidate for 1 of the 2 empty spots might be The Sympathiser, but I have to finish the book). 

- 10 novels I feel worst for not having read:  
The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky 
Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe 
Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes* 
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain 
Bleak House by Charles Dickens**
The Tin Drum by Gunter Grass** 
Hunger by Knut Hamsun** 
To The Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf** 
Les Miserables by Victor Hugo** 
Tess of the D’Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy

- 10 novels I very much want to read but won't read any time soon: 
Ulysses by James Joyce
In Search of Lost Time by Marcel Proust 
The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov**  
Dream of the Red Chamber by Cao Xueqin
The Red and the Black by Stendhal 
The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco 
Vanity Fair by William Makepeace Thackeray 
Pale Fire by Vladimir Nabokov
And Quiet Flows the Don by Mikhail Sholokhov 
The Golden Bowl by Henry James

- 10 novels I don't think I'll ever read: 
Lord of the Rings by J. R. R. Tolkien 
Nausea by Jean-Paul Sartre 
Finnegans Wake by James Joyce 
Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys** 
Min Kamp by Karl Ove Knausgård
Nỗi buồn chiến tranh by Bảo Ninh
Anything by V. S. Naipaul
or Graham Greene
or E. L. Doctorow 
or Ayn Rand




*: I believe the book I read as a kid was an abridged version. Not sure. 
**: I tried and gave up on these books. 

Thursday, 21 July 2016

Brief comments on The Sympathiser

Hello folks. 
After a period of silence, here I am again. 
I've been busy, writing for Trẻ magazine, watching Eurocup (Portugal becoming the champion is 1 of the most ridiculous things in football history, I have to say), facebooking, arguing about Donald and Melania Trump, following the protests in Vietnam regarding Formosa and the mass fish deaths, exploring things, etc. 
Reading-wise, I've been dealing with 2 books at the same time: Joseph Epstein's Plausible Prejudices and Viet Thanh Nguyen's The Sympathiser (actually The Sympathizer, but I write British English).
Usually, instead of 1 long essay or review, I write a series of posts whilst reading the book, comment on things I notice, and often change my mind as I go along. This time I choose not to do so, believing it better to know the whole book and understand the author's point of view, and only make notes for myself. 
However, here are some brief comments I've posted on facebook: 





Let's see. 

Wednesday, 22 April 2015

Serious comments on Corregidora

Having finished Corregidora, I know what it's about. The ending doesn't make it explicit, but there's a hopeful note. Great Gram is somehow reminiscent of Miss Havisham in Great Expectations- bitter, hateful, forever trapped in the past and in her hatred of all men. The mission, the "legacy", the responsibility of making generations and becoming the living evidence of Corregidora's abuse, is a curse on herself and her daughter and her granddaughter and Ursa, her great-granddaughter. To live and be herself, Ursa has to get out of the past, leave behind the haunting stories and nightmares, rid herself of the "legacy", affirm her own identity and have her own voice. The whole book is a struggle to do just that.
I also know what Gayl Jones wants, tries, to do. Talking about the brutality, perverseness, immorality and inhumanity of Corregidora and the awfulness of these stories, she wants to show how difficult it is for Ursa to leave them behind (though Ursa doesn't experience them) by making Ursa witness and experience other forms of brutality, perverseness, immorality and inhumanity in her own life, making her get trapped in abusive relationships and come into contact with various kinds of brutes herself. It's like a destiny, a curse. All the selfish, contemptible, savage, animalistic men around Ursa make her think of Corregidora, remind her of Great Gram's voice and all those haunting stories, imprint on her mind the idea that she too is Corregidora's daughter (though she isn't). It's a tortured world. She has to fight against it all. 
The problem is that Gayl Jones pushes it too far, and brings too much negativity into it. All of her male characters are, as I wrote in an earlier post, arseholes. Abusive, controlling, jealous, selfish, depraved, violent, brutish, basically vile, contemptible, detestable. Of course some female characters are bad as well, especially Great Gram, who is so hateful that she destroys her own life and the lives of several others (though mixed with that hatred is some kind of distorted love for Corregidora). But it still appears that the female characters, mostly, are victims, and when they act horribly, are easier to sympathise with. The male characters, even when showing their more vulnerable side, their insecure side, are beasts. This makes them lack a kind of humanity that makes them plausible (some characters' changes from being gentle and kind to being arseholes, instead of making them complex and real, only create unconvincing inconsistencies). I understand that there's a point in this and one might argue that Ursa's perception of men is partly coloured by her misandry, but reading such a book is frustrating, and more importantly, it's hard to see how Ursa gets out of it all in the end, seeing nothing positive around her. There is no balance, all the men are beasts, bastards, brutes.
Another thing I find problematic, if not faulty, is the voice and tone of the narrator. The language is plain, sparse, unpolished and not written language- more like a voice speaking, though sometimes the narrative is disrupted by stream of consciousness and the voice in the memories and nightmares. The narrator, from the beginning to the end, lacks emotions. At 1st, that voice is perfect- her depression and despair makes her numb, passive, slow, somehow robotic. But the novel has a great span, and ends with some hope, so when there is no change in the tone, it is inauthentic. I cannot perceive any change in her change of attitude and mindset. It's possible to tell that there's some hope at last only because Ursa says no to Great Gram's wishes and denounces them all, finds relief in music (and achieves catharsis?), leaves all the men who hurt her, supports herself, has independence and recovers from her pain. Her narrating, and her way of talking to, or reacting to, other characters, have the same numbness, emotionlessness, passivity.
The cover of the book has a quote by James Baldwin, who uses the phrase "brutally honest" for Corregidora. That applies. But, next to the disturbing images, the language can be quite distasteful. This is apparently a personal comment more than a reasonable critique, but among all the possible words, why 4 characters, at least- Ursa, May Alice, Mutt and Tadpole, use the same obnoxious word "hole" for "vagina" is something I don't understand.
The book is not bad, it's mostly the experience of reading it that is frustrating. But great? Enough to be nominated as the great American novel, as it once was? Compare Corregidora to Invisible Man. The character in Ralph Ellison also goes through many troubles, gets kicked out, betrayed, abandoned, taken advantage of, made fun of, insulted, humiliated, misunderstood, attached verbally, attached physically..., transforms from a naive, hopeful youth to a cynical, bitter person and yet learns, loves, comes to accept himself and chooses to live. We can see the development, feel the changes, and see why in the end, in spite of everything, he knows that he can love and will leave his hibernation and return to the world. That novel is a masterpiece. Gayl Jones's book is so much inferior.
I'm afraid that Corregidora is acclaimed less because it's well-written than because it deals with important topics and social issues and the painful history. Or maybe I feel the way I do not because of the book, but because of my sensibilities. 

Friday, 27 June 2014

Bumping back: On "Notes from Underground" and "Invisible Man"

An essay of mine in ENG2334 at UiO. 



 “I am an invisible man...” (Ellison 1952, 3)
Thus Invisible Man begins. The first sentence of Ralph Ellison’s novel strikes one as an illusion to Dostoevsky’s Notes from Underground, which starts with “I am a sick man... I am a wicked man. An unattractive man.” (Dostoevsky 1993, 3) These two books, having more similarities than the first lines, will be compared and contrasted in this essay to show that Ralph Ellison is possibly inspired or influenced by Notes from Underground, not only the underground imagery but also its main themes of alienation, existence and identity, and can be called Notes from Underground America.
At first sight, Invisible Man and Notes from Underground appear to be very different. Invisible Man, written by Ralph Ellison and published in 1952, is narrated by a black man in the US; Notes from Underground by Fyodor Dostoevsky, published in 1864, is narrated by a retired civil servant living in St Petersburg a century earlier. Invisible Man deals with racism and racial stereotypes; Notes from Underground is not concerned with race. Invisible Man is born of Ralph Ellison’s disillusionment with the communist party, of which he used to be a member (Polsgrove); Notes from Underground is Dostoevsky’s response to What Is to Be Done? by Nikolai Gavrilovich Chernyshevsky (Pevear 1993). Invisible Man consists of over four hundred pages; Notes from Underground is a mere novella, having just over one hundred pages.
However one may find similarities. Both books have the form of a confession. Both books have a nameless narrator, who, whilst writing, stays underground, away from society. Both books begin with the present and go back about twenty years. Both have an angry, bitter and conflicted tone.  
The comparison might appear a little far-fetched as these superficial similarities could be seen as random and accidental, but there are more underneath the surface. In Invisible Man, there is an important scene, in which the narrator, to whom we can refer as the invisible man, bumps into a person:  
“One night I accidentally bumped into a man, and perhaps because of the near darkness he saw me and called me an insulting name. I sprang at him, seized his coat lapels and demanded that he apologize. [...] I butted him again and again until he went down heavily, on his knees, profusely bleeding. I kicked him repeatedly, in a frenzy [...] And in my outrage I got out my knife and prepared to slit his throat [...] when it occurred to me that the man had not seen me, actually; that he, as far as he knew, was in the midst of a walking nightmare!” (Ellison 1952, 3-4)
This scene is reminiscent of a similar scenario in part two of Notes from Underground:
“I was standing beside the billiard table, blocking the way unwittingly, and [an officer] wanted to pass; he took me by the shoulders and silently- with no warning or explanation- moved me from where I stood to another place, and then passed by as if without noticing. I could even have forgiven a beating, but I simply could not forgive his moving me and in the end just not noticing me.” (Dostoevsky 1993, 49)
The insult of being treated like an object bothers the narrator, whom we can call the underground man, for years. The invisible man is also underground and the underground man is also invisible, but if the invisible man reacts immediately, with hatred and violence, the underground man carries anger and spite within himself as he follows the officer and learns about his ‘enemy’. It torments him that for a long time the officer still fails to see him, and he himself always has to swerve and make space for the officer, so one day a thought occurs to him “What if I meet him and... do not step aside? Deliberately do not step aside, even if I have to shove him- eh? How will that be?” (ibid, 53) After some struggle and preparation, he finally does it:
“Suddenly, within three steps of my enemy, I unexpectedly decided, closed my eyes, and- we bumped solidly shoulder against shoulder! I did not yield an inch and passed by on a perfectly equal footing! He did not even look back and pretended not to notice: but he only pretended, I’m sure of that. To this day I’m sure of it! Of course, I got the worst of it; he was stronger, but that was not the point. The point was that I had achieved my purpose, preserved my dignity, yielded not a step, and placed myself publicly on an equal footing with him.” (ibid, 55)
This scenario has the absurd, comic quality that is absent in Invisible Man, but the idea is the same, and both scenes are significant in helping understand the narrators and introducing the main theme of the novels. The invisible man says “... you often doubt if you really exist. [...] It’s when you feel like this that, out of resentment, you begin to bump people back. And, let me confess, you feel that way most of the time. You ache with the need to convince yourself that you do exist in the real world, that you’re a part of all the sound and anguish, and you strike out with your fists, you curse and you swear to make them recognize you...” (Ellison 1952, 3) Through these lines one can see that even though the two books deal with different kinds of people, different societies, different issues, both narrators feel invisible and alienated from society and crushed by external forces, and both do all they can to feel alive, to affirm their own existence and individuality. It is this theme that unites the two works.
 Notes from Underground is divided into two parts. The second part, “Apropos of the Wet Snow”, is a narrative. The first part “Underground”, on the other hand, is written in the form of a diary, or an essay, which is an explicit attack on What Is to Be Done? in particular and utilitarianism, utopianism and Western philosophy in general. As argued by the underground man, utilitarians attempt to show people how to live and to make decisions in life, without taking into account the most important aspects of human nature that human beings are self-contradictory and irrational, and, in the underground man’s words, stupid and ungrateful. People, even when well aware of their real profit, “would put it in second place and throw themselves onto another path, a risk, a perchance” only because they do not want a designated path (Dostoevsky 1993, 20-1). The underground man argues:
“Shower [a man] with all earthly blessings, drown him in happiness completely, over his head, so that only bubbles pop up on the surface of happiness, as on water; give him such economic satisfaction that he no longer has anything left to do at all except sleep, eat ginger bread, and worry about the noncessation of world history- and it is here, just here, that he, this man, out of sheer ingratitude, out of sheer lampoonery, will do something nasty. [...] It is precisely his fantastic dreams, his most banal stupidity, that he will wish to keep hold of, with the sole purpose of confirming to himself (as if it were so very necessary) that human beings are still human beings and not piano keys...” (ibid, 30)
To the philosophers that the underground man critiques, the individual is not important. Invisible Man, albeit not dealing with utilitarians, tackles the same theme- in the communist party, known as the Brotherhood in the novel, the individual does not matter as each member must sacrifice for the party and, before taking an action, must think of its consequences for the party. To the Brotherhood, Tod Clifton is no more than a traitor, and the dolls he sells, which harm the prestige of the organisation, annul all of his good work. The invisible man also gets outraged, even more, but, unlike them, organises a funeral for him because in spite of everything Tod Clifton has been a brother, a human being, an individual, “jam-full of contradictions” (Ellison 1952, 353). This act may be seen as irrational, but human beings can sometimes do things that they know are irrational and unprofitable when they feel that those are the right things to do. The Brotherhood, however, fail to understand it; as they think in terms such as discipline and sacrifice, to them the concepts of personal responsibility and the individual do not exist. It becomes clearer when they later abandon Harlem, making the narrator realise that everything they do is for the Brotherhood, not for its members, nor for the group they claim to represent.
Like Dostoevsky, Ralph Ellison dissects idealistic, utopian philosophy, and through the characters in his book, demonstrates the two ways of thinking, the former of which prioritises the common good and the latter stresses the individual, and depicts the clash between them. From Notes from Underground, Ralph Ellison not only uses the underground imagery but, more importantly, also universalises the experience of alienation and applies Dostoevsky’s socio-political commentary on nineteenth century Russia to his society, to his time and to the communist party. Then he pushes the concept of individuality further in his exploration of racism and racial stereotypes.
At the beginning of Invisible Man, the narrator introduces himself “I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me. Like the bodiless heads you see sometimes in circus sideshows, it is as though I have been surrounded by mirrors of hard, distorting glass. When they approach me they see only my surroundings, themselves, or figments of their imagination- indeed, everything and anything except me.” (ibid, 3) He is unseen rather than invisible- the white characters look at the narrator and see nothing beyond his skin colour. He is seen as a source of entertainment for people at the battle royal; by Mr Norton as one of the people connected to his own destiny, as “a mark on the score-card of [his] achievement, a thing and not a man” (ibid, 73); by Brother Jack as a speaker who can be of some use to the Brotherhood, especially one with dark skin, who can attract the black community; by a man in the Brotherhood as a natural singer because “All colored people sing” (ibid, 237); by Emma as not black enough for his work; by Sybil as a figure out of her rape fantasies. Being thus labelled, he is more like an emblem than a person with a unique self, complexities and contradictions.
Other black characters suffer from the same fate. Jim Trueblood has to tell over and over again the story of how he impregnated his own daughter- his act, morally wrong and unacceptable in a white man, becomes entertaining when done by a black man because it confirms what some whites want to believe blacks to be, the same way Sybil asks the narrator to verify her stereotype of black men as excitingly aggressive savages. Tod Clifton gets killed by the police because of his skin colour, at least according to the narrator.
More interestingly, this way of perceiving also extends to the black characters in the book- Ralph Ellison does not create a simplistic picture where only whites can be cruel to blacks. Dr Bledsoe wants the narrator to be part of his ‘mission’, to succeed and to conceal from white people all the bad sides of blacks, and thus punishes the narrator for failing the task. Mary treats him kindly because he is as black as she is, but keeps putting pressure on him by wanting him to do “something that’s a credit to the race” (ibid, 194). Ras the Exhorter sees him as a traitor for siding with whites instead of joining black nationalists such as Ras himself. Even in the eyes of people of his own race, the narrator is invisible. It is even worse and more painful because it is Dr Bledsoe, not Mr Norton, that expels him and robs him of opportunities, and later, it is Ras, not Brother Jack or another white member of the Brotherhood, that attacks him physically.
In confusion and distress, the invisible man learns about the existence of a man named Rinehart, who is simultaneously a lover, a runner, a gambler, a briber and a reverend. At first, he is enchanted with the idea of multiple identities, which to him mean endless possibilities. Only later does it dawn on him that he has always been like Rinehart, adjusting himself in accordance with other people, conforming to Dr Bledsoe, saying yes to the Brotherhood, enacting Sybil’s fantasies, etc, and that having multiple identities is equivalent to having no identity at all.  
Having realised his own conformity to other people’s expectations, he goes to great lengths to feel alive, to feel his own existence. Dostoevsky’s underground man does the same. The difference is that Dostoevsky’s character does nasty things and then torments himself and, like a masochist, finds pleasure in humiliation and suffering, as it makes him feel alive and feel like a human being who refuses a designated path; whereas Ralph Ellison’s character, albeit violent now and then, has a more healthy way, such as filling his place with light (using 1369 lights) because “It allows me to feel my vital aliveness” (ibid, 6), or listening to five recordings at the same time because “when I have music I want to feel its vibration, not only with my ear but with my whole body” (ibid). In the end, whereas “Notes from Underground” has no indication that the narrator will ever leave his place, the invisible man says in the epilogue “At first you tell yourself that it’s all a dirty joke, or that it’s due to the ‘political situation’. But deep down you come to suspect that you’re yourself to blame, and you stand naked and shivering before the millions of eyes who look through you unseeingly. [...] But live you must, and you can either make passive love to your sickness or burn it out and go on to the next conflicting phase.” (ibid, 434-5) Then he expresses his intention of leaving the underground “I’m shaking off the old skin and I’ll leave it here in the hole. I’m coming out, no less invisible without it, but coming out nevertheless.” (ibid, 438-9) He says it in a matter-of-fact way, shaking off his naiveté and illusions. Ralph Ellison’s character, besides, is different from Dostoevsky’s underground man, who is incapable of love, as can be seen in the chapters with Liza. He says “in spite of all I find that I love. [...] I’m a desperate man- but too much of your life will be lost, its meaning lost, unless you approach it as much through love as through hate. [...] So I denounce and I defend and I hate and I love” (ibid, 437-8). After all the disappointment and bitterness, Invisible Man ends in a more positive and hopeful tone.
In conclusion, Invisible Man can be called Notes from Underground America. However, it is an adaptation, expansion, extrapolation, rather than an imitation, of Dostoevsky’s novel. Ralph Ellison found inspiration, and created his own masterpiece.



Bibliography
Ellison, Ralph. Invisible Man. New York: Random House, 1952.
Dostoevsky, Fyodor. Notes from Underground. Translated by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky. London: Vintage, 1993.
Pevear, Richard. Foreword to Notes from Underground, by Fyodor Dostoevsky, vii- xxiii. London: Vintage, 1993.

Carol Polsgrove on Writers’ Lives. “Ralph Ellison”. http://carolpolsgrove.com/excerptralph-ellison/                                                                       

Monday, 10 March 2014

"Notes from underground"- fragmentary impressions

Currently reading "Notes from underground" by Dostoyevsky, translated by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky.
1/ The 1st line of chapter 1 is: "I am a sick man... I am a wicked man. An unattractive man."
Reminds me of the 1st line of "Invisible man": "I am an invisible man..."
Besides this, and the fact that both narrators stay underground, I haven't seen anything else these 2 books have in common. 

2/ The 1st line of chapter 2 is: "I would now like to tell you, gentlemen, whether you do or do not wish to hear it, why I never managed to become even an insect. I'll tell you solemnly that I wanted many times to become an insect. But I was not deemed worthy even of that."
Is this an inspiration for Kafka's "The metamorphosis"?

3/ In chapter 7, Dostoyevsky launches attacks on and makes fun of Henry Thomas Buckle, who naively asserts that "man gets softer from civilisation and, consequently, becomes less bloodthirsty and less capable of war".
Reminds me of something Allen Ginsberg said that is quoted in "The electric kool-aid acid test" (Tom Wolfe), that no one wants war and conflicts only arise from misunderstanding and if people can just sit down and sort out the misunderstanding, they can avoid war. Such childish, simplistic mindset!

4/ Chapter 8, which stresses over and over again that human beings do not always use reason and cannot strictly follow some rational calculations and do the most profitable things all the time because we are human beings and not piano keys (an attack on utilitarianism?), makes me think of Stanley Kubrick's film "A clockwork orange", in which the leading character is 'cured' by a machine and meant to be a good citizen who commits no crime, yet he no longer has free will and the machine has turned him into a machine.

5/ Dostoyevsky's 'analysis' of the need for or even the enjoyment of suffering is an answer to the people who insist on forgetting sadness, avoiding negativity and looking at the bright side. This need is essential to us, to our wholeness, our growth, as much as foibles, stupidity and senselessness are a part of our nature which we cannot deny. 

 
Update at 6.44pm: 
6/ The bumping scene between the underground man and the officer in part 2 right away revokes images from "Invisible man". My hunch was right, there are more similarities between these 2 works. Though the word "invisible" doesn't appear in "Notes from underground", the same idea is there, the narrator is unseen. 
On a side note: whether I can develop it and use for my essay is another story, because their invisibility is different. In Ralph Ellison's narrator's case, he's unseen in the sense that people look at him and see the reflections of their own stereotypes and prejudices, or see him as a representation, an emblem, of something, instead of seeing his individuality. The underground man, on the other hand, is unseen because of people's loathing or his inferior status (unsuccessful), according to him, or simply because he's alienated from society. 

7/ Chapter 5 of part 2, an absurd situation with all the trouble about money, somehow makes me think of "Hunger", though I'm not sure if there's any equivalent scene in the Knut Hamsun book.

8/ The meeting of the former schoolmates, I can't read without thinking of a similar scene in "Mrs Dalloway" (Virginia Woolf). All the old feelings come back, all the dislike, all the feeling of inferiority and diffidence. Of course, closely linked to it is my own visualisation of future meetings between me and my former classmates (though the bright side is that such meetings are unlikely to happen, considering that I live in another country and they probably have left as well). 

9/ "Notes from underground" has humour, a kind of Kafka-like humour that I didn't find in "Crime and punishment". 
In fact, though for now I'm not able to put it into words, due to my own inadequacy, the more I read Kafka and Dostoyevsky, the more similar they appear, and I can see why Kafka regards Dostoyevsky as 1 of his blood relatives. 

10/ Before I finish reading, I already feel the need to reread the whole book right after finishing it. 

11/ If I'm not mistaken, "Taxi driver" was inspired by this book. Indeed, it's not difficult to see: alienation, loneliness, depression, self-loathing, misanthropy, bitterness, rage, contradiction, etc.  

Update at 11.05pm: 
12/ Another time the underground man compares himself to a fly, and another time, a bug. 

13/ The comparison may be a bit forced, but the dinner scene is reminiscent of the film "Inside Llewyn Davis". Like the narrator here, Llewyn Davis is, by general standard, a loser, and he's aware of it, but at the same time still has a contradictory feeling, a feeling of superiority. He dislikes his present life and cannot get anywhere better, for he's not talented enough, but he has a contemptuous look when sitting in a corner, listening to other people, such as Jim and Jean, or when singing Jim's song. 
Something I understand very well. 
It's tragic, good taste, or the ability to recognise genius and distinguish between talent and the absence of it, doesn't always go hand in hand with talent. 
But then I digress. That sentence fits "Inside Llewyn Davis" only, or, what do the Coen bros mean? is he meant to be a small talent, or a misunderstood artist? Maybe it only fits me. But definitely not the narrator in "Notes from underground". His intelligence and hypersensitivity are the reasons he cannot connect to the people around him. 

14/ Intelligence and hypersensitivity and high consciousness. Now doesn't this sound like Salinger's Seymour Glass? 

15/ Strange, now instead of writing an in-depth analysis of "Notes from underground", I throw out heaps of names in your face, like a pretentious ass. Can't help it though.  

Update on 11/3, 11.58am: 
16/ "What was to be done?" in chapter 5 of part 2 is clearly an allusion to "What is to be done?" by Nikolai Chernyshevsky, the book to which "Notes from underground" is said to respond. 

17/ I notice the monologue about a father's love for his daughter in chapter 6 is like what Mr Norton says about his daughter in "Invisible man", except that in Ralph Ellison's book, the love is pushed to the extreme, bordering on incest. 

Tuesday, 18 February 2014

Literature and politics

http://anagrammatically.com/2012/11/13/philip-roth-on-politics-in-art/
From a book by Philip Roth:
“Politics is the great generalizer,” Leo told me, “and literature the great particularizer, and not only are they in an inverse relationship to each other – they are also in an antagonistic relationship. To politics, literature is decadent, soft, irrelevant, boring, wrongheaded, dull, something that makes no sense and that really oughtn’t to be. Why? Because the particularizing impulse is literature. How can you be a politician and allow the nuance? As an artist the nuance is your task. Your task is not to simplify. Even should you choose to write in the simplest way, a la Hemingway, the task remains to impart the nuance, to elucidate the complication, not to deny the contradiction, but to see where, within the contradiction, lies the tormented human being. To allow the chaos. To let it in. You must let it in. Otherwise you produce propaganda, if not for a political party, a political movement, then stupid propaganda for life itself — for life as it might itself prefer to be publicized.”

_________________________________________________________

Let's make a clear distinction:
1/ Literature is always political. A person's political view may not be expressed in design, sculpture, architecture, not always in paintings, music... but a writer cannot separate their political view from their writings. That's impossible. Literature is always political.

2/ In spite of this, I develop a 'theory' after reading "Invisible man" (Ralph Ellison) that novelists make bad politicians and vice versa.
a, novelists are concerned with individuals, their complexities and contradictions, emotions, longings, nuances, light and shade, personalities, peculiarities, manners, voices, gestures, relationships, interactions... whereas politicians look at everything and everyone as a whole or divide people into groups, have priorities, sometimes have to make compromises, sometimes have to sacrifice something for something else or for the general interests, place the interests of themselves or their parties above the individual problems...
(On the 1 hand, novelists have greater ability to see life from another person's point of view and understand this person's actions, hence, have more understanding and empathy, whereas politicians usually put themselves in someone else's shoes for the mere purpose of adjusting their own behaviour, changing their strategies and protecting their own public image. On the other hand, novelists easily become idealists, or complicate problems in unnecessary ways).
b, novelists, as I imagine, tend to be introspective (though not necessarily unsocial), quiet, thoughtful, sensitive, observant, sharp, deep, imaginative, insightful, self-questioning..., whereas politicians tend to be extroverted, energetic, confident, talkative, charismatic, bold, daring, sociable, good at speaking and influencing people, realistic, pragmatic, flexible (and sometimes have to be hypocritical, cunning and ruthless)...
(Though it should be added that I do not wish to paint a very ugly picture of politicians in order to praise novelists. Novelists might very well be accused, at least once in a while, of being idealistic, unrealistic, delusional, self-indulgent, indifferent and oblivious to the real world, demanding, critical, not really doing anything for society...)

All in all, that's how I think about this topic now. Who knows, I may find some exceptions, some counterexamples. Or I may change my mind.

Sunday, 26 January 2014

On "Invisible man" (Ralph Ellison)

Does anybody now like to read about the black-white conflict? Slavery? Segregation? Civil rights movement? Does anybody now like to read about how badly whites treated blacks? Enslaved? Humiliated? Oppressed? Held down?
Well I don't. And it's not because of political reasons, the only reason is that this topic has been utilised, and exploited, so many times, which I have read in books and seen in films and TV shows and documentaries, that it no longer interests me. The well-done film "The butler" did not. The upcoming "12 years a slave" does not (though I'll watch it). The subject matter bores me to death.
Anyone who has read Toni Morrison understands; those who haven't must wonder why, in spite of what's written above, 1 of my top favourite writers is black. I read and revere Toni Morrison for her rhythm, for her lyrical language, for her magical metaphors, for her deep understanding of human beings, for the sympathy she has for all of her characters by letting us see their perspectives... Above all, she writes about black people as a people, independent and interesting on its own with its lives and culture and customs and habits and such, not an oppressed people, not a people in relation to another people (whites). Even when her novel deals with slavery, such as in "Beloved", it's more about her people, how they live, what they do with their lives and how they interact with each other, than about the black-white conflict. Nor is she afraid of making others think badly about black people, when creating some bad black characters, because propagandist literature is not literature, and her world is diverse and real with all its light and shade, good and bad.
Likewise, "Invisible man" by Ralph Ellison has intrigued and engrossed me, after some initial tediousness of the subject matter. The most fascinating aspect is that the book presents a mindset among African Americans, a determination to strive and succeed and prove themselves, a resolution to uplift the black people and better the image of black people, thus, a tendency to hide from white Americans everything negative about blacks, and thus, a tendency to dislike and destroy all the black people who contribute to the negative stereotypes, disdain and contempt against their own group. I haven't known about such thinking. The narrator is expelled by the black schoolmaster, not by 1 of the white trustees. And of course, "Invisible man" deals with some other mindsets as well- some people think in terms of race, some in terms of ideology; some in terms of individuals, some in terms of larger interests, the bigger picture. 
(The conflict between the narrator and the Brotherhood, in my opinion, is not that between blacks and whites, but more like that between a person who cares about individuals and an organisation that puts more stress on the bigger picture. That is, I have tried replacing in my mind the race of the Brotherhood members and it doesn't make much difference what race they belong to).  
I, too, start developing a theory whilst reading this book, but will write about it later, if possible. 
With respect to aesthetic value, the book is well-written. Heavy, but not dull, it's vivid, realistic, complex and thought-provoking.
I recommend.