Sunday, May 12, 2013

Alejandra and McTeague: connected through image of blood

When discussing McTeague, we spoke about the tension between civilization and animality in reference to McTeague as representative of new west vs. old west. I saw a connection between McTeague and All the Pretty Horses because the old West/new West dichotomy in each is drawn together by images of blood. 

In All the Pretty Horses, blood is established as a symbol of the west. It is inherent in the landscape itself -- made clear by McCarthy's descriptions of the "blood red" sunsets and in characters' actions. During Alejandra's affair with John Grady, she embodies the Western spirit, acting more as the cowboy than John Grady or than the traditional 'damsel in distress' type that you might expect her to play. Alejandra “[draws] blood with her teeth where he held the heel of his hand against her mouth so that she not cry out” (McCarthy 142). She symbolizes the West that John Grady sought to find in leaving America. She draws blood; she shows her brutishness in the face of a force that works to silence her -- literally and metaphorically. She represents the rough-and-tough spirit of the Old West.

In McTeague, Marcus draws blood from McTeague, and this blood acts as the impetus for his inner beast which lurked very close to the surface to emerge. McTeague as a whole represents a more modern West, but still the act of violence incites the brutish West to emerge.

Joseph Campbell's Monomyth and The Dying West

A major goal of our semester was looking at the ways that Western Fiction breaks down our conception  of what the West is like, contrasting the myths and legends of grand heroism with a more realist view of the struggle and desolation that is found there. Something that I have noticed and wanted to discuss was  the ways that American Western Fiction does fit into the norm of trajectory for literature. Maybe I've just been too affected by reading Joseph Campbell's theories on the 'monomyth', but I thought it was really interesting the way our "cowboys" fit into the trajectory that he outlines for the archetypal hero in The Hero with a Thousand Faces. In most (if not all) of the books that we've read, the hero must leave his home in order to find himself and grow into his Hero role -- or not, which is where the commentary on the West comes in. (More context for this trajectory can be found here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Writer's_Journey:_Mythic_Structure_for_Writers.) When stripped down to the bare skeletons of plot, the underlying similarities between the All the Pretty Horses, Ox-bow Incident, The Surrounded, McTeague (and others) become apparent, making it easy for us to draw connections between them and form a coherent opinion about the vision of the West that these authors are trying to demonstrate to us. I also think that the commonalities are the reason why we've been able to make so many multi-media connections in class, between our stories/characters and other novels, television shows, movies that share those base qualities. In looking at the ways that convention is challenged, it can be helpful to look at the ways that it is not in order to form a fuller picture of what message is trying to be portrayed. The fact that the protagonists in these novels share such structural similarities to protagonists in other media yet cannot succeed/thrive in the West helps to convey that the West itself, as a space, plays a heavy hand in the societies that form and survive there. Based on what we have seen, the West, though a major ground for intersectionalism, is not a place where this can grow into something productive.

Saturday, May 11, 2013

Mixed Heritage in The Surrounded

In The Surrounded, Archilde's identity is (obviously) central to placing McNickle's work in context of the greater picture. As we explored in "The Hungry Generations" and "Red Road to Nowhere," McNickle condemns the future of the American Indians in the West because of the force of the authority and the general social praxis that the Americans have imposed there during Westward expansion. This remains true for Archilde, who, though only half Salish, cannot find success at the end of the novel and instead is arrested for crimes he did not commit. Something that I found particularly interesting in the novel is the tension that results from Archilde's mixed-race heritage exists even between Archilde and his parents -- whom, you would think, would be most accepting of Archilde's identity struggle than compared to any other characters in the novel (because they did produce him, after all). The parents' discomfort with Archilde's identity is spotlighted, for example, in the scenes surrounding money, when both parents are uncomfortable either accepting money or asking for it. Not only does this tension play into how Archilde perceives and accepts his own identity, but also about the larger statement that the novel makes about the future of the West. By including Archilde's parents in the forces putting pressure on Archilde to choose between his two cultures, McNickle deepens his stance that the West is not a place where the indigenous population will be able to thrive while Whiteness moves in.

The cage, possession, and identity in McTeague

In McTeague, the canary functions as a symbol of McTeague. While he is in San Francisco,  the canary is stuck in a gilded cage. The cage replaces McTeague's lust for the gold tooth, both of which are representations of the capitalism that was arising at this time in the West. During his time in the city, McTeague is consumed by this capitalist spirit -- he is the canary stuck in the cage. The degree to which McTeague's life is ruled by capitalism is apparent from the moment that Trina wins the lottery on. He has dreams of spending her $5000 "in some lavish fashion" and on opulent items that, in existing in his posession, can communicate to the rest of the world that he has wealth (132). McTeague's obsession with his spending demonstrates how he is trapped in the cage, a slave to the rituals of capitalist society. Even when he leaves the city for the desert, he must bring the cage and the bird with him, despite that they are completely out of place there. Bringing the cage into the desert shows how deeply manifest capitalism has become within McTeague, even in light of how brutish he is. Through McTeague's relationship with money, the novel makes a commentary about the state of the West and the way that urbanization has changed it and created new structures of status, unlike the more rugged images we saw in previous books in the course.

ox bow again



I was looking again at the Ox-Bow incident, as it may actually be my favorite novel from this course.  It makes me with I remembered more philosophy from my perspectives class, because I have the feeling there are comparisons I could make that I am otherwise missing.  In any case, I was looking at two of the larger sections of discourse on justice from the two major players against (well, as much against as they can be while still being members) the lynch mob.  The first is Davies, who on page 53, makes a number of claims on Justice.  He believes that mankind has an innate sense of justice.  Later, on page 117 , Tetley’s son makes a similar claim.  They agree only on this one thing, however.  Davies believes that the reason we can know what justice is, is because it appears in one form or another in every society we create.  Tetley seems to believe in a similar sense of conscience in mankind, but that we will always subvert it.  We have the knowledge of what is right and we almost never choose it.  He believes this makes us the lowest animal.   

Food in Tropic of Orange

Food has come up multiple times in our course's curriculum as a signifier of race. In Tropic of Orange, sushi arises as central to social commentary in the chapter, Hiro's Sushi. What I noticed is the way the novel draws attention to the sushi not as a positive indicator of race, but as something more negative -- as something that culture is reduced to rather than celebrated by. In Emi and Gabriel's discussions in the restaurant, they discuss hating "multicultural diversity," not for what it is, but for the construct that it has be come. "It's a white guy wearing a Nirvana T-Shirt and dreads. That's cultural diversity," Emi says (128). This is placed in contrast with the (white) woman sitting next to them, who with a "patronizing" smile, tries to cheer them  up by talking about the deliciousness of the tea, to which  Emi reacts: "See what I mean, Hiro? You're invisible. I'm invisible. We're all invisible. It's just tea, ginger, raw fish, and a credit card." Stereotypes and food have come to replace the actual people they are derived from. Rather than serve as an access point to other cultures, food just replaces it; it is taken to represent the entire culture, and all of its people. This point is made even more clear as the woman says, "I love living in L.A. because I can find anything in the world to eat, right here," in expressing her love for multiculturalism (128). The novel's opinion of what multiculturalism has become is apparent in the woman's words, which the reader is supposed to take ironically. She calls LA "A true celebration of an international world. It just makes me sick to hear people speak so cynically about something so positive and to make assumptions about people based on their color" (128). In reality, this woman exudes the exact type of ignorance she is trying to condemn. The scenes in the sushi restaurant play into the greater motive of the novel of calling the reader's attention to the way that  the West has grown to be just an amalgamation of people locked into a space that doesn't have much room for them. In the scene, Gabriel orders a California roll, which is viewed as "ammo" for Emi, of course, because it is indicative of Americanization and the imposition of Americanism on other cultures (128).




Friday, May 10, 2013

Honor



The scene from All the Pretty Horses I wanted to take another look at (which I believe I did my presentation on? Maybe? Who even remembers January?) was John Grady’s conversation with Alejandra’s godmother.  She makes the statement, “A man may lose his honor and regain it again.  But a woman cannot.  She cannot.”  This is a common attitude that we have encountered in the these western narratives, starting with Rose Mapen in the Ox-Bow Incident.  She regains some measure of honor, but it is only through marriage.  Men define the honor of a woman.  In this way, Alejandra’s godmother is still correct.  John Grady has the ability to absolutely ruin Alejandra in a way she cannot ruin him.  Though western narratives in this class have shown many unflattering portraits of the female gender in the west, this is one of the few moments in text where it is truly acknowledged.