The Measure of Success

In class this week we sought to answer some very intriguing questions in our discussion of Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller. What defines success? And can Biff and Willy be defined as successful? In our discussion of what defines success, two sides of the issue emerged and both were argued vehemently. Many in the class believed that success is defined by how much money you make, how famous you are, and whether you are at the top of your profession. These class members argued that only the unsuccessful believe that “success is relative.” The others side of the argument was that you are successful in life if you are happy. I see validity in each argument which is why my definition takes in a much broader view of success. I believe success is not only professional and financial achievement but also happiness and contentment with your life whatever that might be. In this way success goes beyond the obvious criteria society assigns to it.

I do not believe Willy can be considered successful. Although he is moderately good at his job, has been able to support his family, and is about to pay off the last loan on his house, he is unhappy with his life. However, in Willy’s flawed view of success, he forever feels inadequate because he is not fabulously wealthy like his brother Ben. If Willy could see that success comes in many forms and be satisfied with his modest existence, he too would be able to feel successful. In this way, success is very much in the eye of the beholder.

Conversely, Biff is happy with his aimless life, but cannot be considered successful. Unlike his father, Biff is happy roaming the country and performing odd jobs. He becomes bothered when he is occasionally reminded of his father’s definition for success. When Biff is needed to support his father who is too old to take care of himself, he is unable to do so. Willy is getting forgetful and too old to be a travelling salesman but he cannot retire because Biff is incapable of getting a desk job and earning some real money. In this way, happiness is not the only prerequisite for success. The characters of Willy and Biff in Death of a Salesman demonstrate the multifaceted nature of what can be considered successful. (393)

Misunderstood Man

The most intriguing person in A Doll’s House, is not the main character but Nils Krogstad a supporting character. In the first two acts of the play he is the despicable villain who threatens to destroy the Helmer household through the blackmail of Nora. However, in the final act he has a complete change of heart, and gives Nora back her IOU so she can destroy it and the primary conflict of the play is resolved. Why does Krogstad abruptly change and then is never again mentioned in the play? What is Krogstad’s true persona? Is he the despicable villain or a man whose intentions were misunderstood? Initially, there is no sign that Krogstad is anything but an unsavory character. Not only does he attempt to blackmail Nora Helmer in order to keep his job at the bank, but the audience later learns of his moral depravity, committing forgery and cleverly escaping any prosecution.

However, in the second act, the audience is introduced to a slightly different side of Krogstad when threatens Nora a second time. Krogstad actually feels a connection to Nora and pities her because of what she is going through. They both committed forgery, and although Nora did it to save her husband, they situations are still similar. In addition, they both have considered suicide to escape their problems. In this association with Nora the audience is allowed a brief glimpse of a very different person than the evil Krogstad.

Finally in the third Act we are once again shown another side of Krogstad a compassionate side. A declaration of love and trust by Kristine Linde is the catalyst of his change. She tells him, “we two need each other. Nils, I have faith in what, deep down, you are.” With these words, Nils Krogstad finds redemption and tells Kristine “I’ve never been so incredibly happy before.” As a result he sends Nora’s IOU to her husband and he brings the whole sordid affair to an end. Krogstad’s progression from villain to changed man is proof of the power of love.(345)

Duality of Insanity

The Shakespearean play, Hamlet is a fascinating examination of insanity and the human mind. Shakespeare approaches the concept of insanity in his two principal characters: Hamlet and Ophelia. However, there are stark differences in their situations. Hamlet’s insanity is for the most part feigned, although one can argue that he slips into true insanity at various points during the play. In contrast, Ophelia’s insanity is real. Ophelia loses her mind after Hamlet scorns her love and kills her father by accident. The way Shakespeare portrays the feigned insanity of Hamlet and the real insanity of Ophelia is perhaps one of the most intriguing aspects of this play.

There is no doubt from the beginning of the play that Hamlet is feigning his madness. In Act I after the ghost of his father comes to him to inform him that he was murdered by his brother it is clear that Hamlet is already planning his next move. When Horatio and the guards ask him what the ghost revealed to him, he tells them “there’s never a villain dwelling in all Denmark / But he’s an errant knave.” This strange response is not the first sign of Hamlets madness but rather a calculated ploy to keep the king’s murder from the guards. Indeed, Hamlet sanity is apparent when he makes the three men promise not to talk about the ghost regardless of how strange he might behave. Hamlet’s pretend madness continues in the same pattern of this strange response to the three men. He speaks in riddles and veiled language and rarely responds coherently to questions. In addition Hamlet reinforces the notion of his madness when he runs into Ophelia’s room half undressed. It is clear through most of the play however that Hamlet is in total control of his mental facilities. He cleverly plots the murder of his uncle with insanity as a shield to remove any suspicion or attention to himself.

In contrast to Hamlet, it is quite clear that Ophelia truly has lost her mind. She tells everyone that she can hear her father talking, she makes strange sounds, she beats at her breast, and she speaks incoherently. Unlike Hamlet, the audience does not hear or see her father’s ghost, which reaffirms the nature of her true insanity. In addition after Ophelia goes insane her conversations for the most part are conducted in song. Unlike Hamlet’s strange responses these songs have no meaning or relevance to the situation whatsoever and they highlight Ophelia’s insanity. The final way Shakespeare demonstrates Ophelia’s mental instability is in her suicide. Hamlet contemplates suicide in many of his soliloquies but is never close to acting on his thoughts. In contrast, Ophelia takes her life over her inconsolable grief at the death of her father by Hamlet’s hand. With Ophelia there is no rational contemplation of her situation, just an irrational response.

One of the most compelling aspects of the play Hamlet is how Shakespeare exploits insanity. Ophelia is a victim whose insanity is the result of the tragedies that befall her. Conversely Hamlet uses insanity to cover his clever and calculating mind to further his agenda. Shakespeare’s genius as a playwright is evident when he brings this duality of insanity to life in his play. (541)

Rebel or Martyr?

Antigone is perhaps one of the most strong-willed women in Greek literature. Her unwavering self-confidence and spirited nature cannot be but admired. However, her single-minded commitment to burying her brother can be seen as either an honorable act of love for her family or a rebellious teenage act against authority. Is Antigone a rebel or a martyr? The evidence points both ways at first. When Creon decrees that Polyneices should not be buried because he died a traitorous death, there is never any sign that Antigone has faltered in her decision to disobey Creon. The play starts with Antigone trying to convince Ismene to join her in burying their brother. Either Antigone is extremely close to her brother or she has been waiting for a reason to defy Creon. The first sign that Antigone’s motives are perhaps rebellious is when she becomes angry with Ismene because she is too timid to break the law. Instead of forgiving Ismene or understanding her sister’s hesitant nature, Antigone accuses her of being a traitor to the family. On the other hand, if Antigone truly loves her brother as strongly as she professes, Ismene’s refusal to help her could have upset her deeply. Indeed Antigone insists, “I will bury him; and if I must die, / I say that this crime is holy; I shall lie down / With him in death, and I shall be as dear / To him as he to me” (1326).

However, when she is captured, she is more intent on lecturing Creon and criticizing his policies than professing her love for her brother. This Antigone is more concerned with becoming a martyr than the peace she supposedly wants to secure for her brother’s soul. Indeed Creon accuses her of this when he declares, “[t]he girl is guilty of a double insolence, breaking the given laws and boasting of it” (1334). And she reveals her real intention when she says, “I should have praise and honor for what I have done” (1334). If she really was breaking the law because of love for her brother, she would not want praise and honor and attention. Finally, when Ismene is brought in and accused by Creon of having a part in Antigone’s plan, Antigone refuses to allow Ismene to share in the blame. Ismene is now ready to share responsibility for Antigone’s actions because she realizes her duty to her brother and does not want to live if Antigone is dead. Antigone however refuses to let her be condemned to death as she does not want Ismene “to lessen [her] death by sharing it” (1336). These actions are a demonstration of Antigone’s self-centered motives. She will not allow Ismene to share her death, because she wants all the glory a martyr’s death will bring.

This arrogant and selfish Antigone is not representative of the traditional strong-willed martyr of Greek mythology. Yet her personality flaws make Antigone a more believable, if imperfect heroine. Regardless of her motives, Antigone still sacrifices herself for her family, and is able to give her brother peace in the Underworld. Indeed it is Antigone as the imperfect heroine that makes her one of the most fascinating women in Greek drama.

Loveless

Ronald Blythe’s statement in his introduction to the Death of Ivan Ilyich that “[Love] could have rescued Ivan Ilyich from all the fright and despair which terrorized him during the final two weeks had he allowed it to. . . Love masters death [only at the end],” intrigued me. It was not until I read this statement that I realized that Tolstoy does not use the word “love” or “loving” to describe any of Ivan Ilyich’s relationships. When he marries Praskovya Fedorovna it is not because he loves her but because she “came of a good family, was not bad-looking, had some little property,” and because she fell in love with him” (289). Indeed the narrator points out that “to say Ivan Ilyich married because he fell in love with Praskovya Fedorovna” would be incorrect (289). Nor does he grow to love his wife in the seventeen years they are married; instead he spends most of his time in the “fenced-off world of official duties” away from the unpleasantness of his marriage (290). In addition he views his son and daughter more as nuisances and added responsibilities instead of family to be loved. On his deathbed Ivan recalls his happy childhood, but does not reminisce about his love for his family. He only remembers a pleasant joy to which he wishes he could return. Ivan Ilyich’s life was most terrible not only because it was “most simple and most ordinary” but because it was conspicuously lacking in love (286).

The reader gets a taste of this lack of meaningful relationships in Ivan Ilyich’s life in the first chapter when his “nearest acquaintances” are more concerned with what promotions his death might occasion for them than his actual death (282). Tolstoy chooses his words carefully in this chapter. He describes Ivan Ilyich not as loved or respected by these men but rather “liked by all” (281). Indeed his description of Peter Ivanovich and Fedor Vasilievich as “nearest acquaintances” and not something more meaningful help the reader form initial impressions about the nature of the relationships in Ivan Ilyich’s life. I agree with Ronald Blythe’s statement that love could have rescued Ivan Ilyich in his final days however I do not believe that Ivan was ever aware of the absence of love in his life. In his final weeks, Ivan Ilyich does not want his family to show him love but rather honesty and pity. One of the reasons Ivan Ilyich enjoys Gerasim’s company is that the butler’s assistant recognizes that he is a dying man and does pretend otherwise. Ivan Ilyich resents his family and doctor because they refuse to confront his pending death. Another reason Ivan Ilyich enjoys Gerasim’s company is that he craves his pity. Ivan Ilyich wishes to be pitied “as a sick child is pitied” and once again does not grasp the fact that the suffering of a sick child would be eased with love (306). Because his life has been devoid of love, Ivan is unable to recognize his subconscious yearning for love in his final days.

In the end, it is his grieving son, who sneaks into the room in his father’s final moments, and demonstrates love in a simple gesture which convinces Ivan Ilyich that he can still rectify the mistakes in his life. He feels sorry for the boy and he tells his wife that he is sorry for both of them and to forgive him. He realizes that he must “act so as not to hurt them: release them and free himself from these sufferings” (316). So in his last moments, Ivan finally accepts the existence of love in his life and is able to embrace his death in peace. (618)

Point of View

Joseph Conrad’s character, Kurtz, from Heart of Darkness and J. M. Coetzee’s narrator, the Magistrate, from Waiting for the Barbarians are two similar yet fascinatingly different personas. Their similarities and differences seem to be obvious on the surface. Both are agents of an Empire living far from the center of government who are more sympathetic toward the native populations being exploited by their respective governments. Both express their disillusionments with the policies of their Empires, Kurtz more in action than the Magistrate. Both are then branded as unsound and traitorous and are denounced by their respective governments. On the surface Kurtz seems to have an affinity for native ways more than the Magistrate does. The Magistrate never really communicates or lives with the barbarians. His only contact with the barbarians is when he delivers the barbarian girl back to her people. It seems that the Magistrates traitorous relation with the barbarians is unjustly exaggerated by the Colonel Joll, the emissary of the Empire sent to investigate rumors of a barbarian threat. Overall, the Magistrates rebellion seems to be based more in principle than action. The only action he takes is to publicly denounce the beatings of the barbarian captives. On the other hand, Kurtz seems to have been completely assimilated into native culture and from the point of view of Marlowe, Manager, and the rest of the Europeans, lost all sanity and morality.

These basic similarities and differences between Kurtz and the Magistrate can perhaps be explained by the point of view of the respective novels. Kurtz is perhaps portrayed as more of a villainous character in Heart of Darkness because that novel is told from the point of view of the law-abiding and conventional Marlowe. Marlowe is more inclined to condemn the actions of Kurtz because society has conditioned him to view the Europeans as superior to the natives. The reason Kurtz is not portrayed as a total villain in Heart of Darkness is because after Marlowe’s experiences in Africa, he is no longer sure of European superiority. At the same time Marlowe is not a convert like Kurtz who is assimilated into the African culture. Conversely, the Magistrate is portrayed as more of a hero because he is telling the story and the reader is therefore able to hear his thoughts, motives, and the justifications for his actions. If Heart of Darkness was told from the point of view of Kurtz, would the reader feel differently about his actions in the story? Would we feel that the reports of Kurtz’s complete moral degradation and insanity were exaggerated and untrue? Would Kurtz’s love of the natives and assimilation into African culture make sense to us? Perhaps we would learn that the heads on stakes outside of his house were not men he had killed, as was reported but customary gifts from the natives whom he had befriended. Perhaps he would explain that his mental degeneration was a result of a disease he had contracted that eventually killed him. We do not know. However, if Waiting for the Barbarians was told from the point of view of Colonel Joll, we can be fairly certain that his condemnation of the Magistrate would sound eerily similar to that of the Manager’s condemnation of Kurtz. Perhaps if these two novels had different narrators their, similarities would be heightened. (555)

The Power of Dreams

My initial impression of Waiting for the Barbarians was a negative one; I thought the novel was quite odd. I was thrown off by the strange emotional and physical relationship between the narrator and the barbarian girl. I, however, have since become fond of this allegorical story. I enjoyed the Magistrate as the narrator. He seems an honest, observant, and unassuming man who seeks the truth and wants make sense of the cruelty around him. He is heroic in his own simple way. He defends those who cannot defend themselves, shows pity and mercy for the victims of the Empire’s torture, and quietly but firmly defies the Empire. I also enjoy the simple, straightforward style of the novel; it is refreshing after the dense writing of Joseph Conrad.

My favorite parts of the novel so far have been the dreams of the narrator. I am particularly fascinated by the symbolism in the dreams about the children playing in the snow. The Magistrate first has this dream after he sees the barbarian boy who has been tortured. The dream reflects his internal struggle over the evil in what the agents of the Empire have done to the little boy and his father. The Magistrate has always been a loyal servant to the Empire, but now he cannot allow innocent people to be treated so unjustly. According to www.mydreamvisions.com, a dream interpreting website, the snow in these recurring dreams represents “the idea of covering up, blanketing, hiding or obscuring what lies beneath.” Throughout the novel, the Magistrate is obsessed with uncovering the truth. He cannot simply turn a blind eye to the hidden evils of the Empire. The girl child building the snow castle in the Magistrate’s dream is a symbol of innocence. She represents the innocent barbarians who are tortured and mistreated by the agents of the Empire. According to the dream interpreting site, children in dreams can represent a feeling of responsibility for something or someone else in your life. The Magistrate feels responsible for the cruel treatment of the barbarians because he is a representative of the Empire. Thus far the novel has captured my attention, and I am anxious to see how it will end.