It seems that everyone wants to be an artist these days. Music artists, filmmakers, playwrights, painters, novelists. Everyone has something to say. Well, everyone should have something to say.
Unfortunately, all of the above categories contain a vast number of people with a wonderful sense of technique and mechanics, who use their talent to create...
Escapism.
Yes, that is what the public wants. After a long day of hard work, who wants to come home and read something that strips back human nature. Why would I want to experience a piece about human nature? I have to deal with the baser parts of human nature every day!
Yes, you have to deal with it. But have you sought to understand it? I doubt that very highly. And yet, that is what good art does. It pulls back layers and lets us see humanity in the light of day. It is the 10,000 candle power flashlight that illumines, at least for a minute or two, the truth about everyone.
This makes people uncomfortable. Noone wants to think about truth. They don't want to dwell upon what man is capable. They don't want to think about the fact that, without God, any of us are capable of anything. We are inherantly evil.
The books we have read this semester share this common goal. The House of the Seven Gables sought to reveal the greed and superiority complex of the aristocracy. Uncle Tom's Cabin seeks to reveal the prejudice within the hearts of its readers, and compels them to see all humanity as equal. Puddin'head Wilson again takes a peek at human nature, and seeks to disprove the foolishness of racial inequality. McTeague is for everyman, a mirror which humanity can look in and see the evil that common man is capable of.
Good art reveals something about human nature. It reveals something about ourselves. It is our responsibility as readers to seek out this type of literature. Escapism, while a lot of fun, should not be the bulk of our reading. We must seek out true art. What is the point of writing/reading a book if it doesn't add to the discussion of humanity?
WC: 362
Friday, April 22, 2011
McTeague and Seven Gables - Greed and the Sins of the Father
Reflecting on both works, I see a similar theme in both stories.
The sins of the father.
In The House of the Seven Gables, we are continually reminded of the similarities of Geoffrey Pyncheon with his great anscestor the Colonel. No matter how he tries to reform, no matter how he tries to outwardly be a good person, there is an element at work far beyond his control. He has inherited the evil of his forefathers. The curse of the Pyncheons lies upon him.
McTeague too is a victim of his parentage.
His father was a drunkard. He spent money as he made it, mostly upon his addiction. Eventually, his alchoholism killed him.
The same mindset of money made by hard labor and easily spent has been passed down to McTeague. Norris repeatedly tells us McTeague possesses the miner's mentality towards money: it is a thing to spend, and quickly. When McTeague steals Trina's treasure, it is not a long time before he has spent nearly a decade's worth of savings.
McTeague is affected by alchohol just like his father. While we are not told that McTeague was abused with his father, it seems very likely that this was a possibility. Alchohol does strange things to both McTeague and his father. It makes them powerful. It makes them violent. There is no doubt that McTeaugue has inherited this vice from his father.
Norris goes even further than that, however. He claims that McTeague's character has inherited his brute, bestial characteristics from not just his father or grandfather, but thousands of generations before. His propensity for violence goes back to when Norris believes man was not man, but an animal. Norris, in fact, believes that man still is an animal, he has just been reformed a little throughout the years. He lives in cities now, has become a member of society.
While Norris' and Hawthorne's view about nurture vs. nature is similar, oddly enough it comes from opposing worldviews. Hawthorne follows the biblical principal of sin passing from the father unto the third and fourth generations. Norris believes that the animal nature of man comes from his animal anscestors. Though presuppositions differ, they do believe essentially the same thing: no matter how you dress up the brute, he still is a brute. Nice clothes and judgeship do not make a good man. Neither does civilization make an animal human.
Another theme the two stories share is that Greed can be deadly. Every character affected by money dies in McTeague. In the House of the Seven Gables, the Pyncheon patriarchs all meet their untimely demise as they either begin to enjoy the fruit of their greed, or as they attempt to pursue their impulse for more.
I find it intriguing that two authors from such different backgrounds and worldviews find common ground. I guess some things are apparent no matter your belief. We see the facts, and we interpret them according to our worldview. The naturalist finds a different explanation for the same phenomena observed by the Puritan.
WC: 506
The sins of the father.
In The House of the Seven Gables, we are continually reminded of the similarities of Geoffrey Pyncheon with his great anscestor the Colonel. No matter how he tries to reform, no matter how he tries to outwardly be a good person, there is an element at work far beyond his control. He has inherited the evil of his forefathers. The curse of the Pyncheons lies upon him.
McTeague too is a victim of his parentage.
His father was a drunkard. He spent money as he made it, mostly upon his addiction. Eventually, his alchoholism killed him.
The same mindset of money made by hard labor and easily spent has been passed down to McTeague. Norris repeatedly tells us McTeague possesses the miner's mentality towards money: it is a thing to spend, and quickly. When McTeague steals Trina's treasure, it is not a long time before he has spent nearly a decade's worth of savings.
McTeague is affected by alchohol just like his father. While we are not told that McTeague was abused with his father, it seems very likely that this was a possibility. Alchohol does strange things to both McTeague and his father. It makes them powerful. It makes them violent. There is no doubt that McTeaugue has inherited this vice from his father.
Norris goes even further than that, however. He claims that McTeague's character has inherited his brute, bestial characteristics from not just his father or grandfather, but thousands of generations before. His propensity for violence goes back to when Norris believes man was not man, but an animal. Norris, in fact, believes that man still is an animal, he has just been reformed a little throughout the years. He lives in cities now, has become a member of society.
While Norris' and Hawthorne's view about nurture vs. nature is similar, oddly enough it comes from opposing worldviews. Hawthorne follows the biblical principal of sin passing from the father unto the third and fourth generations. Norris believes that the animal nature of man comes from his animal anscestors. Though presuppositions differ, they do believe essentially the same thing: no matter how you dress up the brute, he still is a brute. Nice clothes and judgeship do not make a good man. Neither does civilization make an animal human.
Another theme the two stories share is that Greed can be deadly. Every character affected by money dies in McTeague. In the House of the Seven Gables, the Pyncheon patriarchs all meet their untimely demise as they either begin to enjoy the fruit of their greed, or as they attempt to pursue their impulse for more.
I find it intriguing that two authors from such different backgrounds and worldviews find common ground. I guess some things are apparent no matter your belief. We see the facts, and we interpret them according to our worldview. The naturalist finds a different explanation for the same phenomena observed by the Puritan.
WC: 506
Backstory
There comes a point in every story, a big reveal, where you sort of get the chills. While I didn't get the chills at this point of the story, I definitely can pinpoint the moment.
The "chills" moment for me comes when Norris opens Chapter 20. After McTeague's violent act of murder, he has no choice but to leave San Francisco and return to the mountains.
I'm not exactly sure why I found this moment to be so poignant. Perhaps it is the big, open landscape Norris describes after such a long period of closed city space. Here we see something different. McTeague returns to his element.
There almost is a bit of a genre change from this point on. The rest of the novel feels like a Western. I'm still, however, trying to pinpoint why I find this part of the story to be so interesting.
And then it hits me.
Backstory.
When McTeague returns to the Big Dipper mine, Norris dangles a juicy morsel of backstory.
I love backstory. I often find myself even more intrigued with the past events in a character's life then the current narrative. Perhaps the reason for this is the mysterious nature of backstory. When we learn about a character's past, we aren't necessarily given absolutes. We get snapshot, vague little details. Backstory plays in the mind like legend. Since our mind ultimately gets to fill in the gaps of backstory, a certain wonder is created. It is exciting and interesting to imagine the life of a character before we knew that character. As McTeague visits the old mine and haunts the land he once called his home, no doubt memories flood his mind. I can not see those memories. I can only imagine them. I can only imagine the things that happened in McTeague's past.
Given McTeague's current explosions of violence, one can't help but wonder... were these the first? What little incidents in McTeague's past began the journey to the horrifying scene we just witnessed at the end of the previous chapter? We are told McTeague left the mines to become a dentist. Is that the only reason? Was there another episode of violent rage that left a body count up in the mountains years ago?
I guess we'll never know. But that's the beauty of large gaps in the backstory of a narrative. The mind is left to imagine.
WC: 399
The "chills" moment for me comes when Norris opens Chapter 20. After McTeague's violent act of murder, he has no choice but to leave San Francisco and return to the mountains.
I'm not exactly sure why I found this moment to be so poignant. Perhaps it is the big, open landscape Norris describes after such a long period of closed city space. Here we see something different. McTeague returns to his element.
There almost is a bit of a genre change from this point on. The rest of the novel feels like a Western. I'm still, however, trying to pinpoint why I find this part of the story to be so interesting.
And then it hits me.
Backstory.
When McTeague returns to the Big Dipper mine, Norris dangles a juicy morsel of backstory.
I love backstory. I often find myself even more intrigued with the past events in a character's life then the current narrative. Perhaps the reason for this is the mysterious nature of backstory. When we learn about a character's past, we aren't necessarily given absolutes. We get snapshot, vague little details. Backstory plays in the mind like legend. Since our mind ultimately gets to fill in the gaps of backstory, a certain wonder is created. It is exciting and interesting to imagine the life of a character before we knew that character. As McTeague visits the old mine and haunts the land he once called his home, no doubt memories flood his mind. I can not see those memories. I can only imagine them. I can only imagine the things that happened in McTeague's past.
Given McTeague's current explosions of violence, one can't help but wonder... were these the first? What little incidents in McTeague's past began the journey to the horrifying scene we just witnessed at the end of the previous chapter? We are told McTeague left the mines to become a dentist. Is that the only reason? Was there another episode of violent rage that left a body count up in the mountains years ago?
I guess we'll never know. But that's the beauty of large gaps in the backstory of a narrative. The mind is left to imagine.
WC: 399
Return to Nature
Obviously the naturalism in McTeague is, well... obvious. Norris blames every outburst of anger or passion that McTeague performs on his bestial instincts.
The story of McTeague is a journey, both literally and metaphorically, showing the descent of man to his former evolutionary state.
When we first meet McTeague, the beast is contained. Though certainly not completely one with society, McTeague does run a somewhat successful business. He meets Trina, and through their courtship and the beginning part of their marriage, she is able to reform the rougher parts of McTeague into a somewhat refined gentleman. He gives up his steam beer, dresses nicer, cleans himself. He learns manners, and his business begins to pick up.
Eventually, however, society turns on the reformed beast. It no longer allows him to practice one of the few things he enjoys. Trina and McTeague move into a tiny, somewhat dirty apartment. And McTeague begins to spend a lot of time outside.
A critic I was reading made an interesting observation. When in the city, McTeague is often taken advantage of. Maria steals from him, Trina walks all over him, the city takes away his ability to practice. However, whenever we see McTeague truly in control of his surroundings, he is in his natural habitat. In the city, Marcus makes small of McTeague and attacks him at the tavern. Out in the park and away from the city, the critic observes, McTeague has the upper hand, humiliating Marcus on the picnic grounds.
As Trina and McTeague's situation in the city worsens, the dentist makes his way further away from the city. He spends his time on the outskirts of San Francisco, catching fish in the bay and eating them primitively in this little slice of the wild.
The story really gets going once McTeague leaves the city. Norris' description of McTeague's return to the mountains shows a beast returning to its natural habitat. In the mountains, McTeague follows his instinct. On his way to the Big Dipper Mine, instinct guides him on the right paths to reach his destination. This part of the story really struck me; it is at this point that the story comes full circle; there is power in seeing the brute return to nature.
And here in the wild, the brute is at home. While in the city he is stupid, a lumbering ox, in the wild, he belongs. He has a special instinct he has almost forgotten in the city, a sixth sense that awakens when he is in danger.
The ending is so very appropriate. The ape from the hills has destroyed the city boy. And, as McTeague was born in the wild, he too will die here. The story has come full circle.
WC: 456
The story of McTeague is a journey, both literally and metaphorically, showing the descent of man to his former evolutionary state.
When we first meet McTeague, the beast is contained. Though certainly not completely one with society, McTeague does run a somewhat successful business. He meets Trina, and through their courtship and the beginning part of their marriage, she is able to reform the rougher parts of McTeague into a somewhat refined gentleman. He gives up his steam beer, dresses nicer, cleans himself. He learns manners, and his business begins to pick up.
Eventually, however, society turns on the reformed beast. It no longer allows him to practice one of the few things he enjoys. Trina and McTeague move into a tiny, somewhat dirty apartment. And McTeague begins to spend a lot of time outside.
A critic I was reading made an interesting observation. When in the city, McTeague is often taken advantage of. Maria steals from him, Trina walks all over him, the city takes away his ability to practice. However, whenever we see McTeague truly in control of his surroundings, he is in his natural habitat. In the city, Marcus makes small of McTeague and attacks him at the tavern. Out in the park and away from the city, the critic observes, McTeague has the upper hand, humiliating Marcus on the picnic grounds.
As Trina and McTeague's situation in the city worsens, the dentist makes his way further away from the city. He spends his time on the outskirts of San Francisco, catching fish in the bay and eating them primitively in this little slice of the wild.
The story really gets going once McTeague leaves the city. Norris' description of McTeague's return to the mountains shows a beast returning to its natural habitat. In the mountains, McTeague follows his instinct. On his way to the Big Dipper Mine, instinct guides him on the right paths to reach his destination. This part of the story really struck me; it is at this point that the story comes full circle; there is power in seeing the brute return to nature.
And here in the wild, the brute is at home. While in the city he is stupid, a lumbering ox, in the wild, he belongs. He has a special instinct he has almost forgotten in the city, a sixth sense that awakens when he is in danger.
The ending is so very appropriate. The ape from the hills has destroyed the city boy. And, as McTeague was born in the wild, he too will die here. The story has come full circle.
WC: 456
Thursday, April 21, 2011
How Money Affects the Characters - Part 2: Major Characters
In Part One we looked at how minor characters are affected by Trina's lottery win. In Part Two we will look at how the major characters are affected.
Marcus
Response to the Lottery:
Poor Marcus laments the fact that McTeague got his girl. Is that because his heart is broken? Well, it may be broken, but it certainly isn't broken over Trina. Marcus laments McTeague's good fortune in coming into such a sum of money.
Use for Money:
Fame certainly comes to mind. I don't doubt that Marcus' ideas for the money are quite more ambitious than McTeague's. For Marcus, money is a means to an end. Money brings power. With money, perhaps Marcus could fund a political campaign for some form of office.
The Outcome:
Marcus' obsession with the $5,000 dollars leads to his death in, well, Death Valley. His obsession with money brings about his very violent death. As we will see, this is a recurring outcome.
McTeague
Response to the Lottery:
The dentist's response to Trina's fortune is extremely compulsive. In fact, he is the fool that the lottery agent talks about. McTeague thinks the best thing to do with the new found cash is to spend it on more lottery tickets. This is exactly the level of intelligent thought we expect from McTeague.
Use of Money:
McTeague's mindset when it comes to money is that which has been passed on to him from his father. Money is to be spent as fast, if not faster than it is made. It is to be spent on good food, drink, and anything else that temporarily satisfies the body. It can be spent to make new friends. It is not a thing to be saved for large expenditures. McTeague has the miner's mindset when it comes to spending. He lives paycheck to paycheck without remorse for the foolish purchases he makes. If there were credit cards in the last decade of the nineteenth century, McTeague would have maxed them all out and accrued incredible amounts of interest.
The Outcome:
McTeague and Trina's warring views on money lead to a great divide in their relationship. The divide is gradual, but as Trina denies McTeague even small amounts of money to indulge his habits, he becomes resentful. McTeague kills both Trina and Marcus over the lottery money. By the end of the novel he is a thief, a murderer, and is facing certain death.
Trina
Response to winning the lottery:
Trina's initial response to winning the lottery seems both logical and practical. Upon reading her initial response, I inwardly praised her plan to invest the money and live off the interest. It seems like the reasonable thing to do. At the beginning, the winning of the money affects Trina little. However, a seed is planted. In her determination to not spend the five thousand, she has opened herself toward a very dangerous desire: money for money's sake.
Use of Money:
Trina is very unlike the other characters in her idea of the use of money. At first she seems very practical. However, the money grows from a useful thing to an obsession. It is not long before she collects money for the sake of money itself. Trina's lust for gold is stronger than all other characters because it really is the gold itself that she loves. She does not care what she can buy with that gold. She only wants it to have and hold. She counts it, she polishes it, she gazes at it, finds pleasure in it, and in one of the more bizarre episodes of the book, even sleeps upon her bed of gold. She is like the dragons of mythology stories, gathering her horde into a bed of coins. Do not attempt to take a coin, or you will anger the beast.
The Outcome:
Trina deteriorates the moment she wins the lottery. While the greed of the others is apparent from the beginning, the money distorts her like a cancer. At first, its effects are small, she becomes a bit more stingy, one would still say wise with her money. At the end, the money has overtaken her. She lives for it. She no longer cleans the house. Trina, who once was beautiful, no longer takes care of herself. When she loses her fingers, she does not lament for the loss of that faculty, but for the loss of her income. Her love of money distances herself from her husband, destroying her marriage and bringing about her death.
And there you have it. A story like this should really makes you think twice about wanting riches. And remember, the next time you see that satchel of money on the side of the road, remember. If you touch it, you will die.
WC: 794
Marcus
Response to the Lottery:
Poor Marcus laments the fact that McTeague got his girl. Is that because his heart is broken? Well, it may be broken, but it certainly isn't broken over Trina. Marcus laments McTeague's good fortune in coming into such a sum of money.
Use for Money:
Fame certainly comes to mind. I don't doubt that Marcus' ideas for the money are quite more ambitious than McTeague's. For Marcus, money is a means to an end. Money brings power. With money, perhaps Marcus could fund a political campaign for some form of office.
The Outcome:
Marcus' obsession with the $5,000 dollars leads to his death in, well, Death Valley. His obsession with money brings about his very violent death. As we will see, this is a recurring outcome.
McTeague
Response to the Lottery:
The dentist's response to Trina's fortune is extremely compulsive. In fact, he is the fool that the lottery agent talks about. McTeague thinks the best thing to do with the new found cash is to spend it on more lottery tickets. This is exactly the level of intelligent thought we expect from McTeague.
Use of Money:
McTeague's mindset when it comes to money is that which has been passed on to him from his father. Money is to be spent as fast, if not faster than it is made. It is to be spent on good food, drink, and anything else that temporarily satisfies the body. It can be spent to make new friends. It is not a thing to be saved for large expenditures. McTeague has the miner's mindset when it comes to spending. He lives paycheck to paycheck without remorse for the foolish purchases he makes. If there were credit cards in the last decade of the nineteenth century, McTeague would have maxed them all out and accrued incredible amounts of interest.
The Outcome:
McTeague and Trina's warring views on money lead to a great divide in their relationship. The divide is gradual, but as Trina denies McTeague even small amounts of money to indulge his habits, he becomes resentful. McTeague kills both Trina and Marcus over the lottery money. By the end of the novel he is a thief, a murderer, and is facing certain death.
Trina
Response to winning the lottery:
Trina's initial response to winning the lottery seems both logical and practical. Upon reading her initial response, I inwardly praised her plan to invest the money and live off the interest. It seems like the reasonable thing to do. At the beginning, the winning of the money affects Trina little. However, a seed is planted. In her determination to not spend the five thousand, she has opened herself toward a very dangerous desire: money for money's sake.
Use of Money:
Trina is very unlike the other characters in her idea of the use of money. At first she seems very practical. However, the money grows from a useful thing to an obsession. It is not long before she collects money for the sake of money itself. Trina's lust for gold is stronger than all other characters because it really is the gold itself that she loves. She does not care what she can buy with that gold. She only wants it to have and hold. She counts it, she polishes it, she gazes at it, finds pleasure in it, and in one of the more bizarre episodes of the book, even sleeps upon her bed of gold. She is like the dragons of mythology stories, gathering her horde into a bed of coins. Do not attempt to take a coin, or you will anger the beast.
The Outcome:
Trina deteriorates the moment she wins the lottery. While the greed of the others is apparent from the beginning, the money distorts her like a cancer. At first, its effects are small, she becomes a bit more stingy, one would still say wise with her money. At the end, the money has overtaken her. She lives for it. She no longer cleans the house. Trina, who once was beautiful, no longer takes care of herself. When she loses her fingers, she does not lament for the loss of that faculty, but for the loss of her income. Her love of money distances herself from her husband, destroying her marriage and bringing about her death.
And there you have it. A story like this should really makes you think twice about wanting riches. And remember, the next time you see that satchel of money on the side of the road, remember. If you touch it, you will die.
WC: 794
How Money Affects the Characters - Part 1: Minor Characters
A single event in the life of a group of people can change them immensely. When that event has to do with money, the changes are exponential.
People react differently to money. Their are those who flaunt wealth, and those who horde wealth. Some want the fame that money brings, while others just want a good square meal. Paul warned Timothy that the love of money is the root of all evil. Ain't that the truth.
Filmmakers(and brothers) Joel and Ethan Coen explore this theme often in their movies. In several of their pictures, money itself is a curse. If you are a character in a Coen brothers movie, I would suggest that you do not take the satchel of money. No doubt you will be dead by the end of the picture.
So it is in McTeague. Those who touch(or attempt to touch) money end up dead. The gold is cursed.
I'd like to analyze the different characters and how they respond to money. In this novel gold is the Darwinian limited resource.
Maria
Response to the lottery:
Maria's response to the lottery is that of jealousy. After all, she was the one who sold the ticket to Trina. She feels cheated out of easy money.
Use of Money:
Maria's use of money is based upon survival. Her main sources of income are selling lottery tickets, collecting trash, and theft. She will do anything and exploit anyone to earn a buck.
The Outcome:
The result of Maria's obsession with money, like many other characters in the story, leads to her downfall. Her delusional rants about the golden plates lead her into a relationship with the foulest character in the book, Zerkow. Her fantasy of wealth of a bygone time lead to an abusive marriage, the death of a child, and her own murder.
Zerkow
Response to the lottery:
Zerkow's jealousy to Trina's winning of the lottery shows an entitlement mentality on the part of the Jew. He beleives, that of all people, he deserved to win the lottery. After all, of everyone he has worked the hardest to earn such a fortune
Use of Money:
For Zerkow, money is a fantasy. It is his way of escape from the filthy, grotesque world that he has created. He is constantly drunk on the idea of being wealthy. He loves to hear Maria rant about the golden fortune that her family supposedly once possessed. Wealth is his idea of paradise.
The Outcome:
Zerkow's obsession with money causes him to become a murderer. Day after day he descends deeper into madness, living in a fictitious world. His obsession with a fortune that does not even exist also leads to his death.
So far, we have learned from McTeague that touching money leads to death. Let's see if things bear out any better for the major characters of the story.
WC: 477
People react differently to money. Their are those who flaunt wealth, and those who horde wealth. Some want the fame that money brings, while others just want a good square meal. Paul warned Timothy that the love of money is the root of all evil. Ain't that the truth.
Filmmakers(and brothers) Joel and Ethan Coen explore this theme often in their movies. In several of their pictures, money itself is a curse. If you are a character in a Coen brothers movie, I would suggest that you do not take the satchel of money. No doubt you will be dead by the end of the picture.
So it is in McTeague. Those who touch(or attempt to touch) money end up dead. The gold is cursed.
I'd like to analyze the different characters and how they respond to money. In this novel gold is the Darwinian limited resource.
Maria
Response to the lottery:
Maria's response to the lottery is that of jealousy. After all, she was the one who sold the ticket to Trina. She feels cheated out of easy money.
Use of Money:
Maria's use of money is based upon survival. Her main sources of income are selling lottery tickets, collecting trash, and theft. She will do anything and exploit anyone to earn a buck.
The Outcome:
The result of Maria's obsession with money, like many other characters in the story, leads to her downfall. Her delusional rants about the golden plates lead her into a relationship with the foulest character in the book, Zerkow. Her fantasy of wealth of a bygone time lead to an abusive marriage, the death of a child, and her own murder.
Zerkow
Response to the lottery:
Zerkow's jealousy to Trina's winning of the lottery shows an entitlement mentality on the part of the Jew. He beleives, that of all people, he deserved to win the lottery. After all, of everyone he has worked the hardest to earn such a fortune
Use of Money:
For Zerkow, money is a fantasy. It is his way of escape from the filthy, grotesque world that he has created. He is constantly drunk on the idea of being wealthy. He loves to hear Maria rant about the golden fortune that her family supposedly once possessed. Wealth is his idea of paradise.
The Outcome:
Zerkow's obsession with money causes him to become a murderer. Day after day he descends deeper into madness, living in a fictitious world. His obsession with a fortune that does not even exist also leads to his death.
So far, we have learned from McTeague that touching money leads to death. Let's see if things bear out any better for the major characters of the story.
WC: 477
Greed.
When I first heard of the story of McTeague, being a film buff, I perused the Internet Movie Database to find out if anyone had every made a film version of the book.
In 1924, a man with an obsession set out to create an epic story that he claimed had actually inspired him to become a filmmaker. His name was Erich von Stroheim, and the novel that inspired him to become a visual storyteller was McTeague. His love for the novel was so great that the screenplay he wrote nearly copied the book from start to finish. The result? A film clocking in at around nine and a half hours long.
Not surprisingly, the producers would not release a nine and a half hour film, even if it cost them $500,000, an insanely large budget for the time. So out came the scissors, or rather, the chainsaw. The recut version ran at a modest two and a half hours, and is considered by many film critics to be one of the greatest pictures of all time. The title for the film?
Greed.
What an appropriate title. After reading the novel, there is no doubt why Stroheim would come to such a title. Considering the characters of the story, it only seems obvious. In the entire story, only one character seems unaffected by money, and that is the beloved Englishman Old Grannis. Even the most positive female character in the novel, Miss Baker, begins to hang around Trina less once the McTeagues have lost their income.
The five thousand dollars won in the lottery is a curse. As is often true in reality, money changes people. Norris would say that money causes people to revert to one of their baser human instincts: Greed. The survival of the fittest. Everyone must fight for a limited number of resources. Only the strongest will obtain these limited resources. The rest must fall in this creature's wake.
WC: 323
In 1924, a man with an obsession set out to create an epic story that he claimed had actually inspired him to become a filmmaker. His name was Erich von Stroheim, and the novel that inspired him to become a visual storyteller was McTeague. His love for the novel was so great that the screenplay he wrote nearly copied the book from start to finish. The result? A film clocking in at around nine and a half hours long.
Not surprisingly, the producers would not release a nine and a half hour film, even if it cost them $500,000, an insanely large budget for the time. So out came the scissors, or rather, the chainsaw. The recut version ran at a modest two and a half hours, and is considered by many film critics to be one of the greatest pictures of all time. The title for the film?
Greed.
What an appropriate title. After reading the novel, there is no doubt why Stroheim would come to such a title. Considering the characters of the story, it only seems obvious. In the entire story, only one character seems unaffected by money, and that is the beloved Englishman Old Grannis. Even the most positive female character in the novel, Miss Baker, begins to hang around Trina less once the McTeagues have lost their income.
The five thousand dollars won in the lottery is a curse. As is often true in reality, money changes people. Norris would say that money causes people to revert to one of their baser human instincts: Greed. The survival of the fittest. Everyone must fight for a limited number of resources. Only the strongest will obtain these limited resources. The rest must fall in this creature's wake.
WC: 323
Speaking of that Canary Bird
Now, I know I just spent a whole post on the gilded cage. However, there is, suprisingly, a lot to this little animal. I think its use in the story tells us a lot about the other animal, McTeague.
McTeague does not like change. If there is one thing he hates, it is the destruction of the status quo. He wants nothing more than to be warm, filled, and having a warm bed. That's not to say that he is lazy or afraid of work. Quite on the contrary; McTeague takes pleasure in his work. When he loses his job, unlike Trina his main concern is not over the loss of income. He has lost the only thing he knows to do in the city. He also has lost one of the constant things in his life.
He loses more constants when Trina puts everything in the house up for sale. His stone pug dog, his picture on the wall, the gun manufacturer's calendar, his concertina, and his bird have been with him for forever. When he argues with Trina over what should be sold, he has no practical reason for keeping these items. His reasoning is completely sentimental. After all, someone gave him that pug dog. He remembers where he was when he bought the picture. Of all objects, the canary and the concertina are most sacred. He puts his foot down when Trina tries to sell these.
It is interesting that though McTeague murders Trina in a fit of rage over the sale of his concertina, he leaves the city without the instrument. There is one thing he will not forget, however. His pet canary.
And why is it his pet canary over all things? I suppose there are a few reasons. The first is that the bird is McTeague's only connection remaining with his past. Miners owned canary birds as pets for a very practical reason. You would bring the bird into the mine, and if the bird stopped singing, it was a very good possibility that the oxygen level was getting low. The bird warned the miner of unsafe conditions.
So the bird is McTeague's longest constant. He must cling to this bird, the only friend to stay faithful with him throughout the years. The canary is life, and he must cling to this little life. In the desert, McTeague goes to great lengths to keep his pet alive, sacrificing precious water to keep it cool. And this is quite interesting about McTeague. Sure, the man is a monster. He is violent to the point of murder. And yet, he truly cares for this little handful of life. He will preserve it come what may.
The canary bird is the only constant in the novel. It bookends the story, from the opening scene in McTeague's dental parlors to Death Valley.
WC: 474
McTeague does not like change. If there is one thing he hates, it is the destruction of the status quo. He wants nothing more than to be warm, filled, and having a warm bed. That's not to say that he is lazy or afraid of work. Quite on the contrary; McTeague takes pleasure in his work. When he loses his job, unlike Trina his main concern is not over the loss of income. He has lost the only thing he knows to do in the city. He also has lost one of the constant things in his life.
He loses more constants when Trina puts everything in the house up for sale. His stone pug dog, his picture on the wall, the gun manufacturer's calendar, his concertina, and his bird have been with him for forever. When he argues with Trina over what should be sold, he has no practical reason for keeping these items. His reasoning is completely sentimental. After all, someone gave him that pug dog. He remembers where he was when he bought the picture. Of all objects, the canary and the concertina are most sacred. He puts his foot down when Trina tries to sell these.
It is interesting that though McTeague murders Trina in a fit of rage over the sale of his concertina, he leaves the city without the instrument. There is one thing he will not forget, however. His pet canary.
And why is it his pet canary over all things? I suppose there are a few reasons. The first is that the bird is McTeague's only connection remaining with his past. Miners owned canary birds as pets for a very practical reason. You would bring the bird into the mine, and if the bird stopped singing, it was a very good possibility that the oxygen level was getting low. The bird warned the miner of unsafe conditions.
So the bird is McTeague's longest constant. He must cling to this bird, the only friend to stay faithful with him throughout the years. The canary is life, and he must cling to this little life. In the desert, McTeague goes to great lengths to keep his pet alive, sacrificing precious water to keep it cool. And this is quite interesting about McTeague. Sure, the man is a monster. He is violent to the point of murder. And yet, he truly cares for this little handful of life. He will preserve it come what may.
The canary bird is the only constant in the novel. It bookends the story, from the opening scene in McTeague's dental parlors to Death Valley.
WC: 474
Little Gilt Prison
There are a lot of prisons in McTeague. The first, and most obvious, is that of McTeague's canary bird. This object shows up a lot in the story, which makes me believe that it must have some symbolic value.
McTeague is not highly symbolic in the way that The House of the Seven Gables is symbolic. The symbols are much more (and thankfully so) subtle than being pounded over the head with aristocratic chickens(although in McTeague we do have another bird symbol). One can't help but think that in some way Norris is comparing McTeague to the canary in the cage. The reason for my belief in this is the recurring word "prison" Norris uses when describing the cage.
Lynnae brought out an interesting idea in class. She suggests that the gold prison is symbolic of the way that the characters in the story are controlled by money. This is a plausible explanation, considering the fact that the word "gilt" or "gilded" is used to describe the cage throughout the story. This take certainly matches with the gold motif apparent in the novel.
In reading criticism for the story, I keep coming across fate. Certainly the actions in the story seem inevitable. In this case, I think it is possible that the cage could symbolize the fact that the characters in the story are prisoners of fate. Norris seems to believe that the characters do not have any choice in the story's outcome. The lives of Trina and McTeague are doomed the moment they lay eyes on each other.
One critic suggested that the bird prison represented the different cages that McTeague is placed in by Trina. After McTeague loses his job, Trina forces them to move into a smaller, cagelike apartment. The beast, McTeague, is placed in a prison much too small for him. The situation gets worse as Trina gets more miserly, McTeague's final cage being Zerkow's former apartment. McTeague, of course, rebels against the cage, and returns to nature.
In my opinion, I think the cage best symbolizes fate, a fate which has locked Trina and McTeague within itself. There is nothing that they can do. The fate will carry them through the happy times of their early marriage to the latter times of their downfall. They can not escape this fate. They are stuck within the cage; all events are out of their control.
WC: 398
McTeague is not highly symbolic in the way that The House of the Seven Gables is symbolic. The symbols are much more (and thankfully so) subtle than being pounded over the head with aristocratic chickens(although in McTeague we do have another bird symbol). One can't help but think that in some way Norris is comparing McTeague to the canary in the cage. The reason for my belief in this is the recurring word "prison" Norris uses when describing the cage.
Lynnae brought out an interesting idea in class. She suggests that the gold prison is symbolic of the way that the characters in the story are controlled by money. This is a plausible explanation, considering the fact that the word "gilt" or "gilded" is used to describe the cage throughout the story. This take certainly matches with the gold motif apparent in the novel.
In reading criticism for the story, I keep coming across fate. Certainly the actions in the story seem inevitable. In this case, I think it is possible that the cage could symbolize the fact that the characters in the story are prisoners of fate. Norris seems to believe that the characters do not have any choice in the story's outcome. The lives of Trina and McTeague are doomed the moment they lay eyes on each other.
One critic suggested that the bird prison represented the different cages that McTeague is placed in by Trina. After McTeague loses his job, Trina forces them to move into a smaller, cagelike apartment. The beast, McTeague, is placed in a prison much too small for him. The situation gets worse as Trina gets more miserly, McTeague's final cage being Zerkow's former apartment. McTeague, of course, rebels against the cage, and returns to nature.
In my opinion, I think the cage best symbolizes fate, a fate which has locked Trina and McTeague within itself. There is nothing that they can do. The fate will carry them through the happy times of their early marriage to the latter times of their downfall. They can not escape this fate. They are stuck within the cage; all events are out of their control.
WC: 398
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Attraction
Attraction is a very unpredictable thing. People that we thought nothing of, and felt no attraction to at one point in time may catch our eye at a later time. Something unseen is revealed to us, and those things that frightened us at first we may later find endearing.
What is interesting about McTeague and Trina's attraction for each other is that it almost seems predestined. In fact, the whole story has that feel about it. The events take place almost without the characters having any choice in the matter. It is inevitable.
Women want security. If there is anything that Trina craves in her man, it is security. In McTeague she finds pure strength, a strength that pulls down all her fears. Any time she feels insecure about the relationship, all she needs is McTeague to wrap his massive mallet arms around her and she feels that everything is okay. How ironic that she falls for McTeague's brute strength, the same strength that will leave her brutally murdered by the end of the story. And yet the more McTeague abuses Trina, the more she falls for him. In her odd friendship with Maria, she even takes pride in her wounds, signs of her husbands inhuman strength. She comes to love him more and more as time progresses.
The attraction of men in the story is something far different. McTeague sees Trina as something to be conquered. He does his best to bring her in, a feat that we are quite surprised to find him successful in. However, when she finally yields to him, something is lost to him. The chase is over. He finds that what he was looking for was an illusion. He is infatuated. You always want what you can't have; and now that he has it, his desire for Trina begins to falter from this point forward.
"Never were they happier than at this moment."
That's not a good way to start a marriage.
What is interesting about McTeague and Trina's attraction for each other is that it almost seems predestined. In fact, the whole story has that feel about it. The events take place almost without the characters having any choice in the matter. It is inevitable.
Women want security. If there is anything that Trina craves in her man, it is security. In McTeague she finds pure strength, a strength that pulls down all her fears. Any time she feels insecure about the relationship, all she needs is McTeague to wrap his massive mallet arms around her and she feels that everything is okay. How ironic that she falls for McTeague's brute strength, the same strength that will leave her brutally murdered by the end of the story. And yet the more McTeague abuses Trina, the more she falls for him. In her odd friendship with Maria, she even takes pride in her wounds, signs of her husbands inhuman strength. She comes to love him more and more as time progresses.
The attraction of men in the story is something far different. McTeague sees Trina as something to be conquered. He does his best to bring her in, a feat that we are quite surprised to find him successful in. However, when she finally yields to him, something is lost to him. The chase is over. He finds that what he was looking for was an illusion. He is infatuated. You always want what you can't have; and now that he has it, his desire for Trina begins to falter from this point forward.
"Never were they happier than at this moment."
That's not a good way to start a marriage.
Two Highly Disturbing Scenes for your Reading Pleasure
Nothing to frighten you like a big mustached oaf lumbering over you as you slowly awake from your dental surgery. I mean, yeah, we've all had that happen before. It didn't scar us for life or anything.
I found this scene, while highly disturbing, an interesting peek into the mind. It is the first time we see the doctor's Mr. Hyde rear his ugly head.
And oh, what an ugly head it is.
This may be the most unnerving scene within the whole book. The violence of later passages doesn't unnerve me quite like this window into the mind of the brute.
When McTeague puts Trina under, something awakens within. A Christian, of course, would call this the lust of the flesh. Norris, a naturalist, calls it brute desires. At this moment, a battle begins within McTeague. The war within is won at first. Though McTeague stands over Trina, powerless, unconscious, completely at the dentist's mercy, somehow he is able to subdue his brute instincts. The animal wave passes, and he settles for a kiss(still creepy) rather than what his flesh desired. In this passage, you truly feel like you are within the mind of the dentist. I find this much more uncomfortable than later violent events that we observe from without, rather from within. McTeague's mind, usually quite simple, for a moment becomes one that I would rather not experience from the inside.
The second disturbing scene takes place after the picnic with the Sieppes. McTeague is to spend the night in Trina's room.
A person's bedroom is a very intimate place; it is their tower of refuge, their fortress of solitude. Much is to be learned from a person's bedroom. It isn't long before McTeague is creeping around Trina's room, embracing the clothing that is covered with her scent.
Yeah, that's not creepy at all.
Mr. Sieppe, you really should be careful who you let date your daughter. I'd never let this guy in my little girl's room.
WC: 330
I found this scene, while highly disturbing, an interesting peek into the mind. It is the first time we see the doctor's Mr. Hyde rear his ugly head.
And oh, what an ugly head it is.
This may be the most unnerving scene within the whole book. The violence of later passages doesn't unnerve me quite like this window into the mind of the brute.
When McTeague puts Trina under, something awakens within. A Christian, of course, would call this the lust of the flesh. Norris, a naturalist, calls it brute desires. At this moment, a battle begins within McTeague. The war within is won at first. Though McTeague stands over Trina, powerless, unconscious, completely at the dentist's mercy, somehow he is able to subdue his brute instincts. The animal wave passes, and he settles for a kiss(still creepy) rather than what his flesh desired. In this passage, you truly feel like you are within the mind of the dentist. I find this much more uncomfortable than later violent events that we observe from without, rather from within. McTeague's mind, usually quite simple, for a moment becomes one that I would rather not experience from the inside.
The second disturbing scene takes place after the picnic with the Sieppes. McTeague is to spend the night in Trina's room.
A person's bedroom is a very intimate place; it is their tower of refuge, their fortress of solitude. Much is to be learned from a person's bedroom. It isn't long before McTeague is creeping around Trina's room, embracing the clothing that is covered with her scent.
Yeah, that's not creepy at all.
Mr. Sieppe, you really should be careful who you let date your daughter. I'd never let this guy in my little girl's room.
WC: 330
The Absurdity of Racial Inequality
Only Mark Twain would come up with such a device.
In Uncle Tom's Cabin, Harriet Beecher Stowe uses quadroons and mulattoes, the sons and daughters of whites, to show the absurdity of inequality between the races. In Puddin'head Wilson, Twain ups the ante; rather than using quadroons and mulattoes, Twain uses a woman with only 1/16 African American descent. She looks white, but her dress, mannerisms, and speech betray the fact that she has been raised as a slave. We have two children switched at birth, one 1/32 black, who clearly passes for white, and another, the son of a white slave owner, who is brought up as a slave.
What a clever and creative device Twain creates to show the absurdity of inequality! It is incredible that the law of the time made someone born of such little African American descent a slave. Through Twain's experiment of switching the two children at birth, he proves something to the many who still harbor racist feelings towards blacks.
Through this creative device Twain shows his readers that blacks are not born inferior, and whites are not born superior. A man is developed through nurture more than nature. The son of a southern aristocrat can be raised to be a poor, uneducated, humble man. The son of a slave can be brought up to be arrogant, selfish, and sophisticated.
When the real Tom is restored to his position as heir to the Driscoll inheritance, he finds that he has fallen through the cracks in society. No longer can he be one with the people he knows. And yet, he also does not fit in with white society. He has been brought up as a slave, and that inferiority that has been battered into him does not leave simply through a change in status. The real tragic character in Puddin'head Wilson is "Chambers." In many ways he is not unlike the slave after the Civil War. Those freed by the war found themselves penniless and uneducated. Because of the way they had been raised, many went back to the occupation they knew before the war. They were free, but they were still not accepted by whites.
What Twain does in Puddin'head Wilson is pull back the facade of race and reveal that who we are is not determined by the color of our skin; it is determined by our development.
WC: 397
In Uncle Tom's Cabin, Harriet Beecher Stowe uses quadroons and mulattoes, the sons and daughters of whites, to show the absurdity of inequality between the races. In Puddin'head Wilson, Twain ups the ante; rather than using quadroons and mulattoes, Twain uses a woman with only 1/16 African American descent. She looks white, but her dress, mannerisms, and speech betray the fact that she has been raised as a slave. We have two children switched at birth, one 1/32 black, who clearly passes for white, and another, the son of a white slave owner, who is brought up as a slave.
What a clever and creative device Twain creates to show the absurdity of inequality! It is incredible that the law of the time made someone born of such little African American descent a slave. Through Twain's experiment of switching the two children at birth, he proves something to the many who still harbor racist feelings towards blacks.
Through this creative device Twain shows his readers that blacks are not born inferior, and whites are not born superior. A man is developed through nurture more than nature. The son of a southern aristocrat can be raised to be a poor, uneducated, humble man. The son of a slave can be brought up to be arrogant, selfish, and sophisticated.
When the real Tom is restored to his position as heir to the Driscoll inheritance, he finds that he has fallen through the cracks in society. No longer can he be one with the people he knows. And yet, he also does not fit in with white society. He has been brought up as a slave, and that inferiority that has been battered into him does not leave simply through a change in status. The real tragic character in Puddin'head Wilson is "Chambers." In many ways he is not unlike the slave after the Civil War. Those freed by the war found themselves penniless and uneducated. Because of the way they had been raised, many went back to the occupation they knew before the war. They were free, but they were still not accepted by whites.
What Twain does in Puddin'head Wilson is pull back the facade of race and reveal that who we are is not determined by the color of our skin; it is determined by our development.
WC: 397
Letting a Story Run Away
When you sit down to write something, you truly are taking a risk. You do not know what will happen to the vision within your mind. You begin writing, with a clear cut idea in your head. But then, something strange happens. The story you thought you were writing is highjacked by forces that you can not control. Your story about Extraordinary Twins is taken over by a lawyer named Puddin'head Wilson and a mulatto woman named Roxanne.
I think any writer can relate to the dilemna that Twain talks about in the intro to Those Extraordinary Twins. Take a script I have been working on, for example. When I began writing this script, it was a story about a man and a woman on the run. During their run, they take refuge at an abandoned farmhouse. Soon, I wanted to write an entire story set in this abandoned farmhouse. So, the first project died, and was reborn as a story about a man returning to his childhood home after a few years of troubled city living. But that story transformed into a girl returning to her home to rediscover her troubled past. I essentially was a good way into two scripts before I finally started my third successful(I hope) piece.
But what a fascinating dilemna the writer places himself in! Stories write themselves. We never know where the story will go until we write it. Usually, what the subconsious fleshes out is far superior to what we originally intended. A writer must find the story within his story.
The farce that Twain started made the way for the wonderful drama of Puddin'head Wilson, Roxanne, and Tom. What began as a fun story became something much more interesting. I found the novel to be a perfect example of why we must write; we truly do not know what we will come up with. We do not know what lies within our mind. So we need to just write. It doesn't matter what. It will figure itself out once we begin.
WC: 340
I think any writer can relate to the dilemna that Twain talks about in the intro to Those Extraordinary Twins. Take a script I have been working on, for example. When I began writing this script, it was a story about a man and a woman on the run. During their run, they take refuge at an abandoned farmhouse. Soon, I wanted to write an entire story set in this abandoned farmhouse. So, the first project died, and was reborn as a story about a man returning to his childhood home after a few years of troubled city living. But that story transformed into a girl returning to her home to rediscover her troubled past. I essentially was a good way into two scripts before I finally started my third successful(I hope) piece.
But what a fascinating dilemna the writer places himself in! Stories write themselves. We never know where the story will go until we write it. Usually, what the subconsious fleshes out is far superior to what we originally intended. A writer must find the story within his story.
The farce that Twain started made the way for the wonderful drama of Puddin'head Wilson, Roxanne, and Tom. What began as a fun story became something much more interesting. I found the novel to be a perfect example of why we must write; we truly do not know what we will come up with. We do not know what lies within our mind. So we need to just write. It doesn't matter what. It will figure itself out once we begin.
WC: 340
The Alter Ego
The battle within has been the topic of many films and novels throughout the years. Though most notably remembered in Stevenson's Dr. Jeckyl and Mr. Hyde, this theme has inspired entire genres of fiction like the serial killer genre.
Twain's take on alter egos is much more sanitized, and a lot more fun. He uses twins rather than multiple personalities to explore this phenomenon. And what better way to explore alter egos warring with each other than twins connected at the waist?
Angelo and Luigi could not be more polar opposities. Angelo is religious, Luigi a freethinker. Angelo is well-tempered and a teetotaler, Luigi a brash alchoholic. Though they have found a solution to their differences in opinion, by alternating control of their legs, the battle between the two is a constant one. They often argue about the places they go and the people they see. In essence, they cannot live a full life. Any ground made by the one is destroyed by the other the following week. Because of this, they cannot even enjoy the half of a life they live. This leads to their demise, and eventually their death. The death of one does not free the other; Angelo must die with Luigi.
The twins in the film The Prestige, offer a contrasting look to Twain's twins(just had to say Twain's twins, didn't I?). In this story, the twins are one in purpose. They choose to live the same life. They act dependently of each other, and willingly take on each other's characteristics. They are a persona, not dual personalities. When the one loses fingers in an accident, the other, cuts off his fingers so they may continue their life as one person. In effect, they each have one half of the same life. By choosing not to war against each other, they are preserved.
Perhaps, for Twain, the twins in his story represent the struggle within his own life. No doubt, like Angelo, Samuel Clemens felt the alter ego he had created in Mark Twain was the one that got all the attention. It was the personality he had created that the public had fallen in love with. Ken Burns' documentary alluded to the fact that Twain felt that noone wanted Clemens. They only wanted Twain. No one wanted to know the real man behind the voice; they were far more interested in the caricature of himself that he had created.
WC: 404
Twain's take on alter egos is much more sanitized, and a lot more fun. He uses twins rather than multiple personalities to explore this phenomenon. And what better way to explore alter egos warring with each other than twins connected at the waist?
Angelo and Luigi could not be more polar opposities. Angelo is religious, Luigi a freethinker. Angelo is well-tempered and a teetotaler, Luigi a brash alchoholic. Though they have found a solution to their differences in opinion, by alternating control of their legs, the battle between the two is a constant one. They often argue about the places they go and the people they see. In essence, they cannot live a full life. Any ground made by the one is destroyed by the other the following week. Because of this, they cannot even enjoy the half of a life they live. This leads to their demise, and eventually their death. The death of one does not free the other; Angelo must die with Luigi.
The twins in the film The Prestige, offer a contrasting look to Twain's twins(just had to say Twain's twins, didn't I?). In this story, the twins are one in purpose. They choose to live the same life. They act dependently of each other, and willingly take on each other's characteristics. They are a persona, not dual personalities. When the one loses fingers in an accident, the other, cuts off his fingers so they may continue their life as one person. In effect, they each have one half of the same life. By choosing not to war against each other, they are preserved.
Perhaps, for Twain, the twins in his story represent the struggle within his own life. No doubt, like Angelo, Samuel Clemens felt the alter ego he had created in Mark Twain was the one that got all the attention. It was the personality he had created that the public had fallen in love with. Ken Burns' documentary alluded to the fact that Twain felt that noone wanted Clemens. They only wanted Twain. No one wanted to know the real man behind the voice; they were far more interested in the caricature of himself that he had created.
WC: 404
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