I have so much to say in response to Robert Stevenson's, Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and I am most certainly not finished with The Yellow Wallpaper, but I'd just like to first respond to a question posed in class.
First though, I want to reinstate the classifications that Professor Moglen gave for Freud's concepts of the love towards parents:
Identifacatory Love- Parent with whom the child identifies and wants to be like.
Object Love- Parent that one can imagine loving in the future.
Someone asked what would happen in the case of an abnormal family atmosphere, such as a single parent or a homosexual parents. Professor Moglen responded that this question is often asked of Freud's theory and remains unanswered.
To a certain degree, I can see Stevenson's novel as a bit of a response to this question. There are hardly any women in the novel and Jekyll lost his mother during his own birth. His father at this point is a single parent, left to fill two roles. As a result Jekyll is likely to love his father as an object as well as identify with him.
Stevenson may be making a commentary on this dual relationship through the homosexual tendencies within the novella, particularly in the case of Jekyll's club of gentlemen located on "queer street." The secrets that they keep for one another suggests an unspoken understanding of this sort of behavior. The lack of women and families in their community questions the ability to find someone to fill the role of object love who is not a man. They definitely don't seem to be looking to find women and family on top of that.
So this is what I propose: Dr. Jekyll feels as though he should repress these implied desires because he is Gentleman, as his father was. As a result Hyde escapes from within him and lives out all of Jekyll's dirtiest desires without shame or remorse. One reading we could make is that he didn't even have a mother to identify with in an effeminate manner, thus making him feel alright about his desires. No, he was left to take on the role of the man that his father was, as well as see men as objects of love. But because of the former, he cannot accept the latter!
Really, that would drive anyone crazy. It's no wonder he developed multiple personality disorder and caused his own downfall. It's a lot to handle.
We Love Monsters!
I found it interesting that in section, when asked who we most identified with in Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, almost everyone in the class said the monster. Don't get me wrong, I am one of those people, but I was surprised to see that I was not the only person who felt this way.
We were then given a quote saying, "The poor monster always, for these reasons, touched me to the heart. Frankenstein ought to reflected on the means of giving happiness to the being of his creation, before he did create him. Instead of that he heaps on him all sorts of abuse and contumely for his ugliness, which was directly his work, and for his crimes to which his neglect gave rise." Anonymous from the Knights Quarterly (Aug-Nov 1824)
The quote made me laugh out loud, because it is almost as though the opinion reflects anger towards Frankenstein, as though he is a real person who actually did create a monster. Nevertheless I was lead to explore my own feelings about the monster. There were plenty moments during my reading of this work that I felt a similar anger towards the man. Why did he bother to make the creation if he was not going to attempt to connect with it? And for that matter, how did he not see that the creature was going to be ugly once it was given life? I mean I am certain that he saw every part of it while he was doing this project.
Then there was the lack of compassion that Frankenstein's Monster constantly had to face. People were incredibly unkind to him, even when he saves a little girl from drowning. Any other man would be treated as a hero upon such an occasion, but the vanity of human nature persists. He is left feeling inadequate and alone, every time he interacts with people. I think that if I were ridiculed to such a degree, I would feel equally detached and angry towards the human race.
Of course, if I am going to look at the situation through the eyes of the monster, it is only fair to take on the perspective of the assholes that are so cruel to him. It is hard to say that if there was a disgusting eight-foot-tall man trying to interact with me, I wouldn't be repulsed. That being said, Shelley really does make it easy to sympathize with the monster over the other characters in the book. He is, ironically, the only one she gives a shred of humanity to.
We were then given a quote saying, "The poor monster always, for these reasons, touched me to the heart. Frankenstein ought to reflected on the means of giving happiness to the being of his creation, before he did create him. Instead of that he heaps on him all sorts of abuse and contumely for his ugliness, which was directly his work, and for his crimes to which his neglect gave rise." Anonymous from the Knights Quarterly (Aug-Nov 1824)
The quote made me laugh out loud, because it is almost as though the opinion reflects anger towards Frankenstein, as though he is a real person who actually did create a monster. Nevertheless I was lead to explore my own feelings about the monster. There were plenty moments during my reading of this work that I felt a similar anger towards the man. Why did he bother to make the creation if he was not going to attempt to connect with it? And for that matter, how did he not see that the creature was going to be ugly once it was given life? I mean I am certain that he saw every part of it while he was doing this project.
Then there was the lack of compassion that Frankenstein's Monster constantly had to face. People were incredibly unkind to him, even when he saves a little girl from drowning. Any other man would be treated as a hero upon such an occasion, but the vanity of human nature persists. He is left feeling inadequate and alone, every time he interacts with people. I think that if I were ridiculed to such a degree, I would feel equally detached and angry towards the human race.
Of course, if I am going to look at the situation through the eyes of the monster, it is only fair to take on the perspective of the assholes that are so cruel to him. It is hard to say that if there was a disgusting eight-foot-tall man trying to interact with me, I wouldn't be repulsed. That being said, Shelley really does make it easy to sympathize with the monster over the other characters in the book. He is, ironically, the only one she gives a shred of humanity to.
Seeking the Gothic
Since beginning this class, I have made it a point to look for Gothic themes in every movie I see. I have to admit that I do this partially out of a desire to lengthen this blog, but I also have found it to be an fascinating lens to look through when observing the world around me.
This left me with an interesting read of the French film, Amelie (2001) which I had the pleasure of watching this weekend. I could not help but notice the influences that Freud seemed to have on Jean- Pierre Jeunet in his creation of this particular film. The story plays out as though it was meant to be directly attributed to the analysis of Freud, with the exception of the fact that it follows the life of a young girl rather than a boy, which would have applied to his work more directly.
The story opens with the supremely clinical description of how Amelie came to be, displaying a montage of images: sperm racing towards an egg, the maturity and growth of a pregnant woman, and finally a the head of a child emerging in childbirth. This is very realist beginning for a girl who will later live a life full of purely Gothic moments. There is then a home video- like reel, where we are given a quick overview of Amelie's happy, curious childhood, before her parents are introduced to us.
Freud bases much of his analysis on the relationships within a family, particularly focusing on the interactions between child and parent. The narrator continues Amelie's tale by describing the personalities of her father and mother, while they are displayed on screen (pointed comments are also written out describing certain attributes.)
We are first told about her father, "an ex-army doctor," is presented in his lab coat, standing stiffly in front of the spa where he now works. An arrow pointing at his mouth leads to script explaining: "Tight lips, hard heart." Her mother, a school teacher, also stands in front of her work, she is given the description, "Facial twitch, weak nerves."
This film -as is the case with many Gothic texts, in my opinion- is a comedy. The moments of her childhood that are most important for future character development are equal parts dark and silly. For instance, when she is six years old and "she'd like to be hugged by her daddy" she is overexcited during the only time he touches her, during her monthly checkup (he does, after all, have a "cold heart"). This is the reason he thinks her heart is irregular as well as the reason she is forced into home school. Blubber, her suicidal fish, and only friend is dropped into a stream, due to her mother's previously mentioned "weak nerves." This loneliness only increases when her mother is actually killed by someone else's suicide.
Left only with her distant father, she grows into identificatory love and has no parent with which to direct an object love, so she just doesn't. This, I am lead to believe, accounts for her disinterest in men and relationships for most of her life.
In her quest for the owner of the small treasure box, she begins to interact with her neighbors as well as people who once lived in the building. The first real connection we see her make is with the old man who tells her the name of who she is searching for. "We all need a way to relax," he says. She responds in a whisper, "I skip stones." In this moment she can see some of herself in this old man and whoever "we all" entails. She makes good deeds a part of her daily life and in doing so she continues to make similar little connections, and also discovers that she too has been observed.
Her mission leads to self realization, largely at the hands of her neighbor, Raymond Dufayel, who helps her to connect with the man with whom she most relates. At her first meeting with Nino Quincompoix the narrator tells us that, "When Amelie lacked playmates, Nino had too many. Five miles apart, they both dreamed of having a brother and sister to be with all the time." Despite their different reasons, the two are connected in their need for and lack of companionship. It is in Nino that Amelie finds her other and can finally step out of the cold shadow cast upon her by her father. She is free to make a loving connection with a man who is nothing like her father.
This left me with an interesting read of the French film, Amelie (2001) which I had the pleasure of watching this weekend. I could not help but notice the influences that Freud seemed to have on Jean- Pierre Jeunet in his creation of this particular film. The story plays out as though it was meant to be directly attributed to the analysis of Freud, with the exception of the fact that it follows the life of a young girl rather than a boy, which would have applied to his work more directly.
The story opens with the supremely clinical description of how Amelie came to be, displaying a montage of images: sperm racing towards an egg, the maturity and growth of a pregnant woman, and finally a the head of a child emerging in childbirth. This is very realist beginning for a girl who will later live a life full of purely Gothic moments. There is then a home video- like reel, where we are given a quick overview of Amelie's happy, curious childhood, before her parents are introduced to us.
Freud bases much of his analysis on the relationships within a family, particularly focusing on the interactions between child and parent. The narrator continues Amelie's tale by describing the personalities of her father and mother, while they are displayed on screen (pointed comments are also written out describing certain attributes.)
We are first told about her father, "an ex-army doctor," is presented in his lab coat, standing stiffly in front of the spa where he now works. An arrow pointing at his mouth leads to script explaining: "Tight lips, hard heart." Her mother, a school teacher, also stands in front of her work, she is given the description, "Facial twitch, weak nerves."
This film -as is the case with many Gothic texts, in my opinion- is a comedy. The moments of her childhood that are most important for future character development are equal parts dark and silly. For instance, when she is six years old and "she'd like to be hugged by her daddy" she is overexcited during the only time he touches her, during her monthly checkup (he does, after all, have a "cold heart"). This is the reason he thinks her heart is irregular as well as the reason she is forced into home school. Blubber, her suicidal fish, and only friend is dropped into a stream, due to her mother's previously mentioned "weak nerves." This loneliness only increases when her mother is actually killed by someone else's suicide.
Left only with her distant father, she grows into identificatory love and has no parent with which to direct an object love, so she just doesn't. This, I am lead to believe, accounts for her disinterest in men and relationships for most of her life.
"She tried once or twice, but the results were a letdown"
Instead, like her father, she distances herself from the world around her, content on observing people and avoiding being the object of observation for others. Her trip into her own unconscious begins when she knocks away a loose tile on her bathroom wall to find a hidden box filled with toys. As she opens this passage way into the dark tunnel of her wall, so opens her own mind.
In her quest for the owner of the small treasure box, she begins to interact with her neighbors as well as people who once lived in the building. The first real connection we see her make is with the old man who tells her the name of who she is searching for. "We all need a way to relax," he says. She responds in a whisper, "I skip stones." In this moment she can see some of herself in this old man and whoever "we all" entails. She makes good deeds a part of her daily life and in doing so she continues to make similar little connections, and also discovers that she too has been observed.
Her mission leads to self realization, largely at the hands of her neighbor, Raymond Dufayel, who helps her to connect with the man with whom she most relates. At her first meeting with Nino Quincompoix the narrator tells us that, "When Amelie lacked playmates, Nino had too many. Five miles apart, they both dreamed of having a brother and sister to be with all the time." Despite their different reasons, the two are connected in their need for and lack of companionship. It is in Nino that Amelie finds her other and can finally step out of the cold shadow cast upon her by her father. She is free to make a loving connection with a man who is nothing like her father.
Can't Find an Other? Make Your Own!
It worked for Frankenstein didn't it? Well...worked is relative here, but he certainly did it!
We are introduced to Victor through his letters at the beginning of the novel, in which he tells the reader of his childhood and his family life. It is clear that he has love for his mother, who dies just as he is going away to school, however he does not entirely connect with her on any intellectual level.
He then goes on to talk about his introduction to science and his growing infatuation for the subject. This is where we first see the emergence of M. Waldman as "a true friend." Seeing as how Victor quickly surpasses the masters, it can be said that he is not looking for an equal, but someone who will "express the most heartfelt exultation in [his] progress" (Ch.4) He does not necessarily need him to understand the work that he is actually doing so much as how excellent and important his findings are.
Frankenstein's description of, "one of the phenomena which had peculiarly attracted [his] attention was the structure of the human frame, and, indeed, any animal endued with life," is particularly foreshadowing of the events to come. In the same passage he talks about how the "fine form of man was degraded and wasted," which is another moment that implies how he might feel about the monster he has yet to create (Ch.4).
Frankenstein's reaction to he man he makes later on in the book shows how he is very much Waldman's opposite. He takes no pleasure in the development of the creature, nor does he make any attempt to understand it. He simply flees at the sight of "the wretch -- the miserable monster whom [he] had created.". This is an interesting outcome considering the project was aimed at manipulating the human body, which he found so fascinating and beautiful.
He looks into, "his eyes, if eyes they may be called," and this moment he faces his other, which he never intended, or wants, to see (Ch. 5). This is a pseudo Mirror Stage moment in Shelley's novel that gives the reader their first glimpse into Frankenstein's true nature. Here we have an unreliable account of our protagonist, because he has been the one telling his own story. The ugliness that is seen in the monster acts as a physical manifestation of what he has been holding within himself.
The action of running away from the monster serves as a representation of Frankenstein's repression of his own id. The monster within him has now been unleashed into the world and even after being forced to face the creature, Frankenstein still wishes to pretend as though it does not exist. As Professor Moglen likes to remind us: the greater the repression, the greater the eventual explosion is bound to be. Thus is the case as the monster continues to roam about the world, and eventually seeks its revenge on Frankenstein.
In his vengeance, the monster kills several of Victor's loved ones, but what serves as a concrete action of "otherness" is the murder of his father. Victor, who for all intents and purposes is the monster's father, was never active or present after it was "born." The monster takes from Frankenstein exactly what was deprived of him. Now, they are both orphaned.
Frankenstein continues to repress the monster that he has let out into the world and the matching id still within him rages on as he keeps the secret of his science project to himself. In the end, he reveals this secret and it is not he who works out his own unconscious, but rather it is left to Walton to unravel the story of Frankenstein's id: his monster.
We are introduced to Victor through his letters at the beginning of the novel, in which he tells the reader of his childhood and his family life. It is clear that he has love for his mother, who dies just as he is going away to school, however he does not entirely connect with her on any intellectual level.
He then goes on to talk about his introduction to science and his growing infatuation for the subject. This is where we first see the emergence of M. Waldman as "a true friend." Seeing as how Victor quickly surpasses the masters, it can be said that he is not looking for an equal, but someone who will "express the most heartfelt exultation in [his] progress" (Ch.4) He does not necessarily need him to understand the work that he is actually doing so much as how excellent and important his findings are.
Frankenstein's description of, "one of the phenomena which had peculiarly attracted [his] attention was the structure of the human frame, and, indeed, any animal endued with life," is particularly foreshadowing of the events to come. In the same passage he talks about how the "fine form of man was degraded and wasted," which is another moment that implies how he might feel about the monster he has yet to create (Ch.4).
Frankenstein's reaction to he man he makes later on in the book shows how he is very much Waldman's opposite. He takes no pleasure in the development of the creature, nor does he make any attempt to understand it. He simply flees at the sight of "the wretch -- the miserable monster whom [he] had created.". This is an interesting outcome considering the project was aimed at manipulating the human body, which he found so fascinating and beautiful.
He looks into, "his eyes, if eyes they may be called," and this moment he faces his other, which he never intended, or wants, to see (Ch. 5). This is a pseudo Mirror Stage moment in Shelley's novel that gives the reader their first glimpse into Frankenstein's true nature. Here we have an unreliable account of our protagonist, because he has been the one telling his own story. The ugliness that is seen in the monster acts as a physical manifestation of what he has been holding within himself.
The action of running away from the monster serves as a representation of Frankenstein's repression of his own id. The monster within him has now been unleashed into the world and even after being forced to face the creature, Frankenstein still wishes to pretend as though it does not exist. As Professor Moglen likes to remind us: the greater the repression, the greater the eventual explosion is bound to be. Thus is the case as the monster continues to roam about the world, and eventually seeks its revenge on Frankenstein.
In his vengeance, the monster kills several of Victor's loved ones, but what serves as a concrete action of "otherness" is the murder of his father. Victor, who for all intents and purposes is the monster's father, was never active or present after it was "born." The monster takes from Frankenstein exactly what was deprived of him. Now, they are both orphaned.
Frankenstein continues to repress the monster that he has let out into the world and the matching id still within him rages on as he keeps the secret of his science project to himself. In the end, he reveals this secret and it is not he who works out his own unconscious, but rather it is left to Walton to unravel the story of Frankenstein's id: his monster.
The Moral of the Story
Taking AP Lang in high school, I found myself laughing at the teacher's analysis more often than not. "By describing the sky as misty, the author was clearly trying to convey the ambiguity of the protagonist's feeling toward mornings." Give me a break.
Since beginning my college studies in literature however; I have come to look at this type of interpretation in a new light. It does not necessarily always have to be about what the author absolutely meant to show, but rather what we, as readers, can obtain from studying a piece of writing. So when we are asked in section: "Does Frankenstein have a moral?" I am compelled to say yes. Now, I cannot pretend to know exactly what lesson, if any, Mary Shelley was intending to teach in her story. I can however; say that there are several to be discovered by its readers.
We are presented with the ramifications of "playing God"- a phrase that today's right-winged loonies are fond of using in an attempt to scare us away from stem-cell research. Although I think these people are crazy, there is no denying that this is a theme shown through Frankenstein's messy attempt at playing creator. He makes a man that not even a mother (or in this case a "father") could love. Shelley implements moments of the sublimity and beauty in the novel when Frankenstein visits the mountains to try and relieve his stress. There is also the monster's peaceful reaction to the arrival of Spring. These things, unlike the science that caused the whole mess in the first place, are natural and pure. Frankenstein tried to take on this role of nature by making a man, and thus inadvertently and indirectly causes the deaths of five "innocent" people.
Which brings me to the next lesson that is touched on in this narrative. There is the perceived innocence of people in general. It is fair to say that almost every human in this novel can be construed, to some degree, as a monster him/herself. Victor, of course, has his vanity, which is the catalyst for the disasters that take place. Then there are the people that Frankenstien's monster interacts with, who are certainly no gems. They are incredibly uncivil to him based solely on his outer appearance, despite his efforts to be a helpful and kind creature. He is never received with kindness by anyone, so why should he act as such. They strip him of any humanity that he had within him. Murder is a pretty extreme turn to take; however it makes for a powerful argument. After all, it was teasing and cruelty in school that incited the tragedy that was Columbine.
Then there is always the concept of human connection. Victor continuously isolates himself throughout his life. He does have relationships with a friend, his family, and his future wife, but he thinks so highly of himself that he cannot truly connect with anyone on a real and intellectual level. This is his own fault as well, seeing as how he refuses to interact with his fellow scientists. His lonely lifestyle continues to grow, particularly at the loss of his family and friends at the hands of his own failed creation. He allows his life to be taken over by vengeance and exists in solitude. The secret of the monster that eventually drives him to madness. He only reveals this to Walton directly before his death. Shelley may have been hinting at the basic need for human connection. Because he has no one to talk to about his mistakes, Victor is left to deal with his guilt on his own, which essentially is his own ruin.
There is plenty more to gain from this novel and I like to think I only reached a portion of it in my reading. That being said, these are a few clear-cut and important morals that can be obtained from this story. I think that it is one of those novels that does not lose meaning with time, but perhaps takes on more. As the world changes, the story takes on new relevance that Shelley did not even have a chance to intend. Not to mention the several different publications and changes made.
So I guess the moral of my own entry is that the moral of the story is whatever the hell you take away from what you've read.
Talk About Infantilization:
... But really, I want to talk about it. This seems to be a common theme in the Gothic, no? A man takes control of a woman's life and forces her into the role of the child no matter the age, forming a somewhat incestuous bond.
We see it in Charlotte Gilman's, The Yellow Wallpaper, where the unnamed narrator is trapped in a nursery by her husband. We are brought along as her mind deteriorates into the childish nature she's being forced to inhabit. In this case she is a grown woman who's husband treats her as both his child and his wife, creating a more symbolic concept of incest.
Last night (early this morning) I watched Interview with the Vampire: The Vampire Chronicles (1994). In this contemporary Gothic we see a physical representation of an infantilized woman. Claudia is turned into a vampire by Lestat when she is only a young girl. She is forced to grow older in years as her body remains in its prepubescent form. Lestat "dresses [her] like a doll," even after she has been a vampire for thirty years. As an adult, Claudia serves as a companion to Louis, however he calls her his daughter. The line between familial and romantic love is blurred when she kisses him on the mouth in their last scene together.
These two stories represent the infantalized women in opposite ways. One, a woman who's mind deteriorates to a childlike state, the other a child who has the mind of an adult. Both are forced into these roles by the oppression of the men in their lives, and their need to feel superior and masculine in comparison.
That Fresh Country Air Must Make for Mighty Pure Blood
Just awoke to a thought: Why do vampires always live in small towns?
Answer: They don't, those are just the stories that get told. Vampire killings in New York City are simply swept into the massive category of the unresolved, kinky, fucked-up everyday murders. Small towns notice when the population rises from 600 to 601 and then suddenly drops to 590. Seems a bit fishy don't it?
Plus their cops have nothing better to do...
Answer: They don't, those are just the stories that get told. Vampire killings in New York City are simply swept into the massive category of the unresolved, kinky, fucked-up everyday murders. Small towns notice when the population rises from 600 to 601 and then suddenly drops to 590. Seems a bit fishy don't it?
Plus their cops have nothing better to do...
Rebirth: The Return to the Womb
You might have thought I'd exhausted the subject of Alien (1979), but you were wrong. I have so much more to say! Get excited.
I would like to go into part of one of the prompts for the first essay: "While Frankenstein and Alien both attempt to deconstruct gender difference, both texts ultimately reinstate the male/female opposition and give precedence to the values of the feminine. Discuss, with reference to the film and the fiction." I think that there are some really interesting parallels between these two texts, but I really just want to cover the circular formation of Alien (1979), and how it serves to both deconstruct and then reinstate the gender roles of its characters.
The conflict is created when Kane, the ship's (male) second-in-command, disturbs an egg on a foreign planet. The alien attaches itself to his face and he becomes the surrogate for this life form until it rips through his stomach in a twisted version of childbirth.
It is in this reversal the biological roles of man that confirms the deconstruction of gender roles previously hinted at within the film.
Ripley has the more traditionally masculine characteristics of logic and levelheadedness, while Dallas is more inclined to take risks based on his emotions. He is the one who insists that Kane is let back into the ship, despite the danger this presents to the rest of the crew members. He violates protocol once again by trying to cut the alien off of his friend's face in an attempt to save his life.
As they are terrorized by the monster on their ship, Ripley remains cool and collected, fulfilling the kick ass quota necessary to all films of this genre, although generally played by a man. It is not until she is the last one standing that we are reintroduced to her womanhood. She strips down to her undies, in what we might consider a predictable fashion for a horror film, however it is so random here because of how unfeminine our protagonist has been throughout.
This reminder of feminine sexuality serves to prepare us for a return to social constructs. We are completely thrown out of the norm, forced to accept a man giving birth and a woman succeeding in the Darwinian game of survival of the fittest. Now we must return to reality.
In order to reinstate "the male/female opposition and give precedence to the values of the feminine," the alien must be reborn in a way that can be considered normal. Then, naturally, it must be destroyed. We are given this imagery when Ripley propels the alien from the pod, not unlike the way it originally hatched at the beginning of the film. The alien hangs from the ship from a pseudo umbilical cord which is eventually cut by explosive flames from the engine.
The alien's rebirth is initiated by a woman and it comes from what is identified as the feminine "mother" ship. This is a final representation of a return to the accepted gender roles. Ripley is re-feminized, and the alien is at last born of a woman. Everything is "right" in the world.
I would like to go into part of one of the prompts for the first essay: "While Frankenstein and Alien both attempt to deconstruct gender difference, both texts ultimately reinstate the male/female opposition and give precedence to the values of the feminine. Discuss, with reference to the film and the fiction." I think that there are some really interesting parallels between these two texts, but I really just want to cover the circular formation of Alien (1979), and how it serves to both deconstruct and then reinstate the gender roles of its characters.
The conflict is created when Kane, the ship's (male) second-in-command, disturbs an egg on a foreign planet. The alien attaches itself to his face and he becomes the surrogate for this life form until it rips through his stomach in a twisted version of childbirth.
Ripley has the more traditionally masculine characteristics of logic and levelheadedness, while Dallas is more inclined to take risks based on his emotions. He is the one who insists that Kane is let back into the ship, despite the danger this presents to the rest of the crew members. He violates protocol once again by trying to cut the alien off of his friend's face in an attempt to save his life.
As they are terrorized by the monster on their ship, Ripley remains cool and collected, fulfilling the kick ass quota necessary to all films of this genre, although generally played by a man. It is not until she is the last one standing that we are reintroduced to her womanhood. She strips down to her undies, in what we might consider a predictable fashion for a horror film, however it is so random here because of how unfeminine our protagonist has been throughout.
In order to reinstate "the male/female opposition and give precedence to the values of the feminine," the alien must be reborn in a way that can be considered normal. Then, naturally, it must be destroyed. We are given this imagery when Ripley propels the alien from the pod, not unlike the way it originally hatched at the beginning of the film. The alien hangs from the ship from a pseudo umbilical cord which is eventually cut by explosive flames from the engine.
The alien's rebirth is initiated by a woman and it comes from what is identified as the feminine "mother" ship. This is a final representation of a return to the accepted gender roles. Ripley is re-feminized, and the alien is at last born of a woman. Everything is "right" in the world.
Paraphilia
Sorry Folks,
I'm a bit under the weather. (a lot under it considering how nice it is outside!) Anyway I am alive, barely, but I will be refraining from sharing my feverish thoughts with you for the time being. Perhaps if something stands out to me I'll record it. Until then please feel free to continue to not read my blog.
Love from the infirmary (my dorm room),
ACS
Ps. Who knew a bowl of oatmeal could satisfy me so very much? Maybe I should marry it.
Pps... Sounds like something out of a Beckett play, eh?
I'm a bit under the weather. (a lot under it considering how nice it is outside!) Anyway I am alive, barely, but I will be refraining from sharing my feverish thoughts with you for the time being. Perhaps if something stands out to me I'll record it. Until then please feel free to continue to not read my blog.
Love from the infirmary (my dorm room),
ACS
Ps. Who knew a bowl of oatmeal could satisfy me so very much? Maybe I should marry it.
Pps... Sounds like something out of a Beckett play, eh?
Fearing Fragmentation
Today in section we discussed the monster in the film, Alien (1979), and how hiding the monster effected our viewing experience. It is apparent to me that the entire industry of horror (and its sub-genres such as science fiction) was built largely on the inducement of suspense. If a movie refrains from showing what we are meant to be afraid of for its entirety, waiting until the very end to reveal it, this can create greater fear for the audience.
That being said, I don't think such was the case in Alien. We were never given the opportunity to really see the monster in full until it is hanging from the shuttle at the very end of the film. The "big reveal" is fairly anti-climactic in my opinion. In this particular film, I think it can be said that we are meant to fear what is unknown. As the monster continues to grow and change, adapting to its new environment, we are never given a clear image of our other.
The alien is presented to us in bits and pieces as it travels about the ship in search of its next meal. The film takes us, shot by shot, throughout the ship, making it seem as though we too are in danger of being eaten at every turn. But we are only told, never shown, how frightening the monster truly is, as the camera closes up on the terrified face of whoever is encountering the beast.
So if the glimpses we receive do not successfully effect suspense, why do we watch the film? How does it scare us?
My answer to this question is that it is the lack of wholeness itself that induces fright. We watch and flail about seeking some sense of unity in our other. We want something to look at in order to gain an understanding of that which we fear, but we are never allowed this by the film. As the creature develops it never "extends from a fragmented body-image to a form of its totality," as the human does according to Jacques Lacan's Mirror Stage. Thus we are left to stare at the images mirroring our own world, destined to forever lack a sense of self-identification for we cannot see the monster is the same, nor how it differs from us. Our fear then lies in being trapped in a primitive state of fragmentation.
That being said, I don't think such was the case in Alien. We were never given the opportunity to really see the monster in full until it is hanging from the shuttle at the very end of the film. The "big reveal" is fairly anti-climactic in my opinion. In this particular film, I think it can be said that we are meant to fear what is unknown. As the monster continues to grow and change, adapting to its new environment, we are never given a clear image of our other.
The alien is presented to us in bits and pieces as it travels about the ship in search of its next meal. The film takes us, shot by shot, throughout the ship, making it seem as though we too are in danger of being eaten at every turn. But we are only told, never shown, how frightening the monster truly is, as the camera closes up on the terrified face of whoever is encountering the beast.
So if the glimpses we receive do not successfully effect suspense, why do we watch the film? How does it scare us?
My answer to this question is that it is the lack of wholeness itself that induces fright. We watch and flail about seeking some sense of unity in our other. We want something to look at in order to gain an understanding of that which we fear, but we are never allowed this by the film. As the creature develops it never "extends from a fragmented body-image to a form of its totality," as the human does according to Jacques Lacan's Mirror Stage. Thus we are left to stare at the images mirroring our own world, destined to forever lack a sense of self-identification for we cannot see the monster is the same, nor how it differs from us. Our fear then lies in being trapped in a primitive state of fragmentation.
The Gothic: Defining and Identifying
First things first, I think it is important that I take the time to look into how Gothic is traditionally defined and the elements that are generally associated with the genre as it pertains to literature. Thank goodness for the wonderful world of the internet!
According to Lilia Melani's class website, The Gothic Experience, "the Gothic creates feelings of gloom, mystery, and suspense and tends to the dramatic and the sensational, like incest, diabolism, and nameless terrors." The conflict of the story is generally an abnormal event that happens as a direct result of the actions of (a) character(s).
Professor Moglen defines the Gothic by its other, the Real. The idea is that the Gothic discusses things that are often avoided in realist literature such as the psychological reasoning behind certain events. In section we discussed the supernatural characteristics of the Gothic, and how it mirrored the real in certain ways.
Horace Walpole's The Castle of Otranto, started the Gothic movement and basically set the standards for what is expected of the Gothic novel. Robert Harris created a list of these elements, which almost all Gothic stories will adhere to, to some degree.
According to Lilia Melani's class website, The Gothic Experience, "the Gothic creates feelings of gloom, mystery, and suspense and tends to the dramatic and the sensational, like incest, diabolism, and nameless terrors." The conflict of the story is generally an abnormal event that happens as a direct result of the actions of (a) character(s).
Professor Moglen defines the Gothic by its other, the Real. The idea is that the Gothic discusses things that are often avoided in realist literature such as the psychological reasoning behind certain events. In section we discussed the supernatural characteristics of the Gothic, and how it mirrored the real in certain ways.
Horace Walpole's The Castle of Otranto, started the Gothic movement and basically set the standards for what is expected of the Gothic novel. Robert Harris created a list of these elements, which almost all Gothic stories will adhere to, to some degree.
The Purpose of This Blog
Why hello there non-existent readers!
The reason for the birth of this blog is to fulfill an assignment for my Gothic Imagination class. We have been given the option of composing a Gothic journal in place of writing out second paper. It is neat a way in which we can apply the things we are learning in class to our everyday lives.
Personally, I will be using my Gothic journal to contrast the readings, films, and lectures assigned in this class with the readings and films I will be watching of my accord. I am particularly interested in how the Victorian Gothic has translated to contemporary examples of the dark and twisted.
So wish me luck as I tumble through the looking glass!
ACS
The reason for the birth of this blog is to fulfill an assignment for my Gothic Imagination class. We have been given the option of composing a Gothic journal in place of writing out second paper. It is neat a way in which we can apply the things we are learning in class to our everyday lives.
Personally, I will be using my Gothic journal to contrast the readings, films, and lectures assigned in this class with the readings and films I will be watching of my accord. I am particularly interested in how the Victorian Gothic has translated to contemporary examples of the dark and twisted.
So wish me luck as I tumble through the looking glass!
ACS
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