Tuesday, April 24, 2012

The Goblin Market

I recently read the poem Goblin Market by Christina Rossetti and was immediately struck by the relevance of it to our class. The poem seems to be the antithesis to romance, describing the pitfalls of caving in to desires of the flesh. It involves a sacrifice (in a very christ-like figure fashion) of one sister for another, as well as a vivid abuse scene, but the poem concludes with the happy ending so often utilized in romance stories. One has to ask himself why such a seemingly morose poem falls in to one of the mainstays of the romantic genre, the happy ending. The answer, as many do, lie in the pages of Frye.

Fry  comments on happy ending at an instance in his book. "The story proceeds toward and end which echoes the beginning, but echoes it in a different world. The beginning is a demonic parody of the end, and the action takes place on two levels of experience," he writes (pg 49). This demonic echoing can be identified rather clearly in the Goblin Market. The beginning of the poem find the two sisters Lizzie and Laura intricately tied, and attempting to repel the alluring cries of the goblins. Laura eventually succumbs to their offerings, symbolically giving in to the pleasures of the flesh, whilst Lizzie continues to  deny them. Laura is drained of her vitality and becomes dangerously ill due to her indulgence in lust. When her state has become nearly fatal, Lizzie voluntarily seeks the goblins in order to glean from them the antidote for Laura's illness. She rejects their offerings of "fruit", is beaten and bruised as a result, but overcomes the desires of the flesh in order to gain the antidote. Laura is revitalized from her weakened state, and the two sister's bond is ultimately reforged. The conclusion of the poem finds the two sister just as close as they were before the encounter with the goblins, except both have, in their own way, overcome the desire of the flesh. The innocence and naivety in the beginning of the poem are replaced by wisdom at the end, yet the sister's relationship is stronger than ever. Thus, the conclusion of the poem echoes its initiation, albeit in a fashion that reflects the significance of the sister's journey. Perhaps there is some interesting significance to be found in each of the happy endings so frustratingly repeated in the romantic genre.
(For those not familiar with the poem, I've attached a link to it below).

Goblin Market by Christina Rossetti


Final Paper


Exploring Casablanca Through Jungian Lenses
The genre of romance, be it in literature or film, is one that has been much maligned an ostracized by critics. It is not difficult to understand why, for the majority of these stories feature formulaic plot devices that become repetitively predictable, thus detracting from one’s enjoyment of the tale. Few realize though, that these repeating motifs  hold much greater significance to the meaning of stories than merely chauffeuring the plot to the traditional happy ending often seen in popular romance. Northrop Fry states “…even the most contrived and naïve romantic plot, even the most impossibly black and white characterization, may still give us technical insight into the way stories get told” (pg 38).  Because these devices are so commonplace, one can utilize them in significant ways that imbue the story with meaning. A perfect example of this type of formulaic implementation can be seen in the classic romantic film Casablanca. Although many plot devices typical of popular romance can be seen in this movie, Casablanca rises above the genre because it alters these commonplace blueprints in inventive ways. The film features a protagonist whose complicated psychology allows the movie to venture into significantly interesting directions, and because of this, allows for a nuanced analysis of the hero and the surrounding characters. By applying Carl Jung’s psychological theory of archetypes to Casablanca’s main character Rick, one can see how the film employs traditional romantic devices in a fashion atypical to the critically disparaged romance.

            Carl Jung’s used his theory of archetypes in order to analyze dreams and gain a deeper understanding of the human unconscious. His ideas can be applied to both literature and film in order to analyze the protagonist, his journey, and the agency behind his actions. All of Jung’s archetypes are manifested in Casablanca, and by analyzing the characters as different aspects of Rick’s unconscious, the film and its plot take on greater meaning.

The Shadow self is the first of these archetypes, and often embodies little known aspects of the hero. It is typically represented by a same sex character,  and is often used to actualize the darker aspects of the hero’s personality (Thury 479). Rick interacts with multiple Shadow selves throughout the film that reveal the dark agencies acting upon his inner psyche. The first of these is General Strasser, a Nazi official who has come to Casablanca in order to detain the famous political activist and rebel leader Victor Laszlo. Strasser functions as the main antagonist of the film, and also represents the influence of the Third Reich. His uncomplicated character seems driven solely by the need to capture Laszlo, and this lack of nuance is typical of a romantic villain. Strasser reveals the dark influence the Nazi regime has had on Rick’s psychological mindset. The beginning of the film finds him deeply swayed by the influence of the Nazis, illustrated when he watches one of his friends arrested and dragged out by officials without attempting to help. “I stick my neck out for no one,” he states, before turning away in seeming apathy.  The second of the Shadow selves he interacts with is Captain Louis Renault, who represents the corrupted Vichy government. Renault is buffeted far more than Rick by the agency of the Nazi regime, catering to Strasser’s every whim for the majority of the film. “I have no side, I blow with the wind,” he states at an instance in the movie, exemplifying the impact outside influence has on his actions. Fry defines the true romantic hero as one that is “superior in degree to other men and to his environment,” and Renault’s inability to rise above his surroundings represents Rick’s greatest fault at the beginning of the story (33). He is unable to completely resist the deterioration of morality around him, and thus, at the advent of the film, does not fulfill the ideal romantic hero. By analyzing these Shadow characters, one can see how Rick, while clearly the main protagonist of the film, does not ideally embody the heroic tradition one sees in romance.
The next of Jung’s archetypes is the Anima, a figure usually represented by a member of the opposite sex. The Anima is “personification of all feminine psychological tendencies in a man’s psyche,” and can be seen in two different females throughout the duration of Casablanca (Thury 479). The first of Rick’s Anima selves seen in the movie is his meantime lover Yvonne, whom he treats with little respect, and eventually rejects. She embodies a commonplace plot device seen in many romances, the woman used as a distraction from the “true love”. After she is spurned, Yvonne turns to drinking and eventually takes up with one of the Nazi officials. Through her character, the viewer can see aspects of Rick’s own experience reflected. Rick was also rejected, turned to drinking, and allowed the enemy, in this case the German officials, to indulge in their own agendas. At an instance in the film, the German officers began to loudly sing their national anthem inside Rick’s bar, and the surrounding customers rise in revolt, singing a rendition of "La Marseillaise”. Yvonne leaver her German officer to join in singing with the customers, symbolizing her rejection of the Nazi’s. She turned to the German out of heartbreak, and her position as Rick’s Anima helps one understand that the reason for Rick’s aloofness towards the Nazi cruelty around him is because he suffers from heartbreak as well. Her rejection of the German foreshadows Rick’s eventual turn away from cynicism to idealism. The second Animus self that manifests in Casablanca is Rick’s true love Ilsa. Ilsa is a mysterious and shadowy character, and the motivations behind her actions aren’t always clear. Believing her husband Lazlo to be dead, she and Rick fall in love. Lazlo reappears, fulfilling the apparent death plot device employed in many romantic tales, and she leaves Rick stranded at a train station. Isla represents the idyllic past Rick once lived in, and shots of them in Paris together juxtaposed against the morally disintegrated Casablanca emphasize this.

Casablanca’s ending is one of the main disparities between the film and the typical popular romance. It’s devoid of the traditional happy ending, and the reason behind this can be found in the manifestation of Jung’s final archetype, the Self. The Self can only be seen when a character has undergone a process termed individuation. This happens when the competing archetypes  are accepted as part of a character’s collective psyche (Thury 481).  In the final scene of the film,  Rick and Ilsa are prepared to take a plane escaping from Casablanca when Rick’s individuation occurs. He sacrifices his place on the plane and his true love in order to save Laszlo, realizing that his political connections and leadership are needed in order to win the war for the Allies. Laszlo and Ilsa escape from Casablanca unscathed as a result of Rick shooting the pursuing General Strasser. Rick’s sacrifice and subsequent actions represent the union of all his archetypes. The consolidation between his Anima and Shadow selves allows Rick to kill General Strasser in order to sacrifice himself for a higher purpose, completing the process of individuation. The conclusion of Casablanca finds Rick calm, and as a result of his Self finally manifesting, able to begin life over free from the shadow of heartbreak that had corrupted him. Although Rick does not get the girl, he rises above his morally vapid surrounding this realizing his place as a true romantic hero.
Although Casablanca employs many plot devices typical of romance tales, it utilizes these formulas in a meaningful fashion, causing the film to rise above the perceived vapidity of the genre. The individuation of Rick allows the story to end untraditionally, yet enables the film to produce a hero worthy of the romantic genre. Through the analytical lenses of Jung’s archetypes, one can see how critically scorned romantic formulas can be altered to produce a classic filmed steeped in significance, beloved by critics and audiences alike. 

Work Cited
Casablanca. Prod. Jack L. Warner. By Julius J. Epstein. Perf. Humphrey Bogart, Ingrid Bergman, Paul Henreid, Claude Rains, Conrad Veidt, Sydney Greenstreet, Peter Lorre, S. Z. Sakall, Dooley Wilson, John Qualen, Leonid Kinskey, Curt Bois, Helmut Dantine, Marcel Dalio, Ludwig Stossel, Frank Puglia, and Dan Seymour. Warner Bros. Pictures, Inc., 1942.
Thury, Eva M. and Margaret K. Devinney. Introduction to Mythology: Contemporary Approaches to Classical and World Myths. New York: Oxford University Press. 2009


Monday, April 23, 2012

Final Presentations

This past week in Sexson's class has to be one of the most entertaining experiences I've had in my collegiate career. The presentations were so wonderfully diverse, unique, and immersive that I found myself utterly enraptured. Who knew one assignment could produce such an array of results?

The fact that such disparity was evident between our presentations made it even more apparent to me that there is no correct (or incorrect) answer to the question: what is a perfect romance? How could there be when each of our answers involved such vastly different components? Of course there were connecting threads that ran through each of the presentations, tying many aspects of the class together, but for the most part they were quite unique from one another. In all honesty, I love that there seems to be no answer. Perhaps there is no such thing as the perfect romance. Perhaps there is no romance at all. I do not know, but the fact that we spent an entire semester discussing it means there is something substantial to the idea, something fundamental to be learned. I've toyed around with many different answers throughout my blog, most unfounded, some quite ridiculous, and others I threw out there just to earn a couple extra points on my final blog grade. Something occurred to me the other day. Professor Sexson was telling the tale of his Shahrazad of the airways and had concluded the class with the words, "She made it all up." Now we have since learned this is untrue, but I found myself immediately internally wondering, "If she can make up this entire story, whose to say Professor Sexson has not completely made up this tale as well?" It would make perfect sense, and the idea of a package from this woman sitting unopened for years, leaving students hanging from mental cliffs as to what it could possibly be, seemed to perpetuate my line of thinking.

This thought bothered me for several days, before I realized what the entire point of the class was: discovering the use of stories that aren't true. Who cares if Professor Sexson had fabricated this tale, and who cares if the perfect romance does not exist. These stories, these romances, however false, impact our lives, our imaginations, and our very souls. There are true, because we make them so.




Friday, April 13, 2012

Romance, Perfected?

Today marks the advent of our perfect romance presentations, and I wanted to throw a blog in here before we began in order to capture my ideas on romance unmarked by the genius and originality of my fellow classmate's presentations.

Brainstorming for our group's perfect romance began almost the second week of the semester. We all met at Wild Joe's coffee on a Sunday morning, some of us clear-headed, others rather hungover from the previous night's festivities and each of us was asked what our idea of a perfect romance was. I remember my naive and uneducated answer all to clearly: "the perfect romance is a relationship that is utterly realistic, for what is more perfect than the materialization of love in our everyday lives." After stating this to the group, I found myself thinking, "Damn Nicole, that was a great answer." How very wrong I was became clarified to me the next day in class when Professor Sexson basically debunked every idea I had previously held on the perfect romance. I was convinced that romance should reflect real life relationships, which were messy, brutal, and in my experience, devoid of the happy endings that permeated throughout the stories we had been reading. The materials we learned in class were stressing almost the opposite of this, and I remember becoming increasingly frustrated when I would blog about my next "genius" insight into romance only to have it completely shattered by Sexson's lecture the following day. "That isn't realistic!" I would scream internally during class, but I kept my mouth closed because my fellow students seemed to buy into the ideas we were discussing. After my initial rejection of the concepts being taught, I began to open my mind to the idyllic and formulaic romances we were reading about and conceded that they did have value. Perhaps these depictions of romance, while not realistic nor accurate mirrors of real life relationships, were a heightened exaggeration of what does go into a relationship. The apparent death echoes the feeling of loss when you break up with someone you love. The kidnapping of the damsel mirrors the point in the relationship when a couple becomes separated for one another. The love triangle could be a depiction of the jealousy that plagues any relationship when one feels threatened by another man or woman, and so on. These formulas, regurgitated throughout romantic tales, do indeed have merit, and I certainly hope our final presentation reflects this. I won't pretend to know what truly constitutes as a perfect romance, but I like to think that my stubborn mind has been pried open to the subject by the sturdy hands of Professor Sexson.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

A Jungian Exploration of Hamlet

Since we have been discussing Jung's archetypes in class and their relationship to myth, it brought to my mind an essay I wrote for my British Literature class last semester in which I used Jung's archetypes and the process of individuation to analyze Shakespeare's play. Although it is not a perfect essay, I thought I might repost it here; and perhaps it will stimulate minds and help myself and others apply the Jungian analysis to a final term paper or presentation. So without further ado:


A Jungian Exploration into the Inner Psyche of Hamlet



The character of Hamlet has been an object of intense scrutiny and literary analysis. Multiple critics have attempted to dissect the inner-workings of Hamlet’s mind throughout the duration Shakespeare’s play, striving to discover why his character remains so fundamentally inactive and hesitant throughout the majority its pages. Numerous theories have been voiced on the subject, and many varied opinions have been suggested, but in order to understand Hamlet and his actions it is necessary to delve into the psyche of his character. Carl Jung’s theories on human psychology, in particular his theory of archetypes, can be used to understand different aspects of Hamlet’s persona. The archetypes help explain his sometimes puzzling and hesitant actions during the play, and ultimately provide the reader with a deeper understanding of Hamlet’s conclusion.
            Carl Jung, a widely respected and influential psychiatrist born in the 1800s, was highly researched in symbols and their relation to the human psyche. (Thury 476 ) He used his theory of archetypes to interpret dreams and their connection to the human unconscious, and his studies on the subject can be used to analyze literature in order to gain a deeper understanding of characters’ personalities and the motivation behind their actions. Jung identified three distinct archetypes: the Shadow, the Anima and Animus, and the Self (Thury  478). These various archetypes symbolize different aspects of a person’s personality, including repressed feeling and emotions, manifested in a physical form.  The first archetype, the Shadow self, represents little known attributes about a person, and is usually personified by a same sex figure that employs many characteristics opposite of the main character. The Anima is the “personification of all feminine psychological tendencies in a man’s psyche,” and is represented by a member of the opposite sex. (Thury 479). The Animus figure, in turn, is all the male tendencies represented in a female character. The last archetype, the Self, is “the innermost nucleus of the psyche,” (Thury 481) and is only realized when the character undergoes a process call individuation. This happens when the various archetypes are accepted as part of the collective psyche of the individual and integrated into his persona (Thury 481). Jung also suggested that there is no limit to the number of archetypes that can be identified, and also listed of some that overlapped within the four main archetypal categories, such as the Wise Old Man figure, who embodies morality, wisdom, and knowledge (Thury 480). All of Jung’s archetypes can be seen within Shakespeare’s Hamlet, and the different characters Hamlet interacts with reflect various facets of his psyche. At one instance in the play, Hamlet is speaking his mother and says, “Come, come, and sit down….you go not till I set you up a glass where you may see the inmost part of you” (pg 72). Just as Hamlet is attempting to reflect aspects of his mother’s psyche to her, the characters surrounding him in the play function as a mirror and reflect various characteristics of his persona so that the reader may fully understand the workings of Hamlet’s mind.
            As previously stated, the Shadow archetype represents unknown characteristics of the main protagonist, in this case, Hamlet. The Shadow self also embodies many darker aspects of the main character’s personality as well as deeply repressed impulses that aren’t always conspicuous to the reader. Hamlet encounters multiple Shadow selves throughout the duration of the play. The first is the Ghost, who appears at various instances throughout the story arc and urges Hamlet to exact revenge on his father’s murder. It is unclear whether the Ghost is truly an apparition of Hamlets father, a hallucination, or something else entirely. It is a mysterious and esoteric character that perfectly embodies Jung’s Shadow archetype.  Hamlet’s underlying suspicion that his father’s death was not an accident isn’t fully realized till the ghost appears, claims to be his dead father, and informs him that Hamlet’s Uncle murdered him.  “But know, thou noble youth, the serpent that did sting thy father’s life now wears his crown,” (pg 24) the Ghost says to Hamlet, which is what initially catalyzes his pursuit of revenge. When Hamlet becomes complacent in his quest for vengeance, the Ghost appears and urges him to into action. The presence of this archetype represents Hamlet’s suppressed suspicion that his father’s death wasn’t merely an accident, and a deep-seated urge to exact revenge. This Shadow archetype reveals to the reader Hamlet’s inner compulsions to kill his Uncle, and functions as a window to his most basic instincts. The second Shadow self in the play is Hamlet’s Uncle Claudias, who is the opposite of Hamlet in many ways. He is a character of action, and gives little thought to the morality of his behavior, which starkly contrast against the inertness and seeming lethargy of Hamlet. Claudias will do anything to gain power, and he represents Hamlet’s desire to ascend to the throne as well as what Hamlet will have to become in order to execute revenge, a man of action and of little morals. By examining these characters through the lenses of Jung’s Shadow archetypes, the reader can gain a deeper understanding of Hamlet’s persona.
            Another archetype that is present in the play is the Anima self. The Anima is represented by a member of the opposite sex, and for Hamlet, is a manifestation of feminine impulses in his psychology. He encounters two Anima archetypes in the play, Ophelia and his mother, Gertrude. Ophelia and Hamlet were once lovers, but Hamlet stifles his affection towards her in order to focus on his pursuit of vengeance. Ophelia seems to be a rather weak character, never acting out of her own self interest, and instead, allows stronger males control her. She is eventually driven mad by the death of her father, and in her broken down mental state, finally emerges as a character of action and no longer adheres to the strict behavioral standards women were expected to uphold during the time. Hamlet’s own sanity is often questioned throughout the play, and at one point Polonius, Ophelia’s father, tells the King, “Your noble son is mad….I swear I use no art at all. That he is mad” (pg 36). Ophelia is only able to escape the repression of her prescribed role in society through insanity, and she represents Hamlet’s deteriorating mindset as he attempts to shed social constructs and morality in order to become a character of action and indulge his compulsion for revenge. The other Anima archetype present is Hamlet’s mother, the Queen. She was married previously to Hamlet’s father, and soon after he passed, married Claudius, much to Hamlet’s chagrin. Throughout the play, Hamlet expresses rage and anger towards his mother, viewing her remarriage as a betrayal. He confronts her at an instance during the play, and says, “such an act…takes off the rose from the fair forehead of an innocent love, and sets a blister there, makes marriage vows as false as dicer oaths” (pg 73). In this quote, Hamlet is referring to Gertrude betraying her true love for his father in order to marry Hamlet’s uncle. His idyllic family life is shattered by his father’s death and his mother’s remarriage, which he views as incestuous and wrong. Gertrude represents Hamlet’s view of women as corrupt and wanton individuals as well as the shattering of child hood innocence. It is his anger towards his mother and her remarriage that helps stimulate his urge for revenge.
            One of Jung’s sub archetypes is apparent in Hamlet as well, the figure of the Wise Old Man who acts as the moral compass of the story. Within the play, Hamlet’s friend Horatio, an intelligent and highly moral character, embodies this archetype. When the Ghost first appears to Hamlet, Horatio endeavor’s to keep Hamlet from interacting with it, saying to the prince, “What if it tempt you to the flood, my lord…and there assume some other horrible form, which might deprive your sovereignty of reason and draw you into madness?” (pg 22). Horatio is warning Hamlet against the dangers of giving in to his Shadow self and his craving for revenge.  This quote essentially foreshadows Hamlet’s descent into madness that results from Hamlet gratifying his appetite for revenge. Horatio also attempts to dissuade Hamlet from participating in the duel with Laertes near the conclusion of the play, and is the only major character to survive the final catastrophic Act in which Hamlet, the Queen, Claudius, and Laertes all die. He represents Hamlet’s conscience and moral center, and his survival juxtaposed with Hamlet’s death exemplifies for the reader what happens when one rejects morality to pursue vengeance.
The last of Jung’s archetypes, the Self, is manifested in the play, but not in relation to Hamlet. The Self is the cohesion of the archetypes, and is only fully realized when a person accepts them all as part of his psyche (). From a Jungian perspective, Hamlet’s inability to act stems from a dichotomy among his archetypes. His morals and his deep underlying compulsion to revenge his father are at odds and cause him to remain in a kind of paralysis for much of the play till the final explosive act. By viewing the characters as different personifications of Hamlet, the ending of the play takes on a vivid new meaning.  All of the main characters, excluding Horatio, are killed, either by each other or by accidental happenstance. Their deaths represent Hamlet’s inability to reconcile the warring aspects of his personality, and as a result, his archetypes die and he along with them. The only one that survives is Horatio; the embodiment of the morality Hamlet casts off in order to pursue his revenge.  In the final pages of the play, Jung’s last archetype, the Self, is finally seen.  Fortinbras, the Prince of Norway, marches in with intent to conquer the kingdom but is horrified at the sight of the Denmark nobles lying dead on the ground. The Norwegian prince is attempting to revenge his father’s death by taking back the land Hamlet’s father won from Fortinbras’ own father. This is explained for the reader near the beginning of the play when the King is speaking to his attendants; “Now follows, that you know, young Fortinbras, holding a weak supposal of our worth…hath not fail’d to pester us with message, importing the surrender of those lands lost by his father” (pg 7). Fortinbras’ motives mirror Hamlet’s own, but the difference between the two princes is that Fortinbras takes clear and immediate action while Hamlet’s conflicting archetypes hinder him from any action for a vast majority of Shakespeare’s play. Although Fortinbras is intent on revenging his father, he is able to accept all of his archetypes as part of his psyche, and does not lose his morality in the process of pursuing vengeance. This is elucidated for the reader at the end of the play when Fortinbras agrees to listen to Horatio, the voice of morality, tell Hamlet’s story. “And let me speak to the yet unknowing world how these things came to be about. So shall you hear of carnal, bloody and unnatural acts,” (pg 121) Horatio says to Fortinbras. The Prince of Norway agrees to listen, realizing that something utterly wrong had taken place in this kingdom, and commands that Hamlet be given a soldier’s death.  “Take up the bodies. Such a sight as this becomes the field, but here shows much amiss,” (pg 122) he commands to his soldiers. Fortinbras lays claim to the vacated throne, and is named monarch of Denmark. His character represents the union of all the archetypes, and the manifestation of the final archetype, the Self. Although he is motivated for the same reasons as Hamlet, the cohesion between the different aspects of is personality allows him to be a man of action and to retain his morality even while pursuing revenge. Therefore, at the end of the play, he ascends the throne of Denmark while the conflicted and immoral Hamlet lies dead on the floor.
By viewing the characters of Hamlet in terms of Jung’s archetypes, one can gain a better understanding of Hamlet and the overarching themes of the play. Although Carl Jung’s theories were published hundreds of years after Hamlet had been written, his insight into human psychology helps the reader understand that many of the characters surrounding Hamlet are embodiments of certain aspects of Hamlet’s persona, which in turn, lends meaning to the shift in power the play concludes with. His theories elucidate for the reader that Hamlet’s conflicting personas are what keeps him from following many of his impulses throughout the play’s duration. A Jungian analysis of Hamlet also helps clarify that morality is an essential component of the human psyche, and without it, a person can be destroyed by their own self-interest. The renaissance popularized the idea that all the world is a stage, and everyone in it is playing a part. In Shakespeare’s Hamlet, the parts these characters are playing are merely different aspects of Hamlet himself.
             
Work Cited
Thury, Eva M. and Margaret K. Devinney. Introduction to Mythology: Contemporary Approaches to Classical and World Myths. New York: Oxford University Press. 2009

Monday, March 26, 2012

The Matrix: Revisited

Joseph Campbell once stated that every tale is a different faction of a hero's journey. His influential studies in mythology unearthed a formula entitled the Hero monomyth, a series of steps that can be identified in almost every story in creation. It seems apparent to me that this monomyth can be directly applied to every romance story, and by doing so, helps the reader understand the importance of romance as a whole. Myth and romance have many overlapping factors, and further delving into the relationship between the two can help unearth ideas and forms of analysis that would not have been discovered otherwise.

Mythology and romance have both been condemned by multiple critics who find no use for their formulaic storylines and repeating motifs. But Campbell believed myths revealed important facts about the psychology of cultures, and taking into account the integration of romance in myth, one could use his tools of mythological study to identify important factors apparent in romance. By using Campbell's monomythic formula, one can peer through the lenses of mythological study and glean new understanding of romance as a whole. 

The Matrix was a movie directly influenced by Campbell's monomyth as well as Jung's theory of archetypes. This science-fiction, effects laden extravaganza is, at it's heart, a romance between a hero and a girl, and thus is a perfect film for Campbell's formula to be applied to. The following list outlines the main factions of Campbell's monomyth that the Matrix includes in its plot and an explanation how this analytical tool can be utilized to better understand its themes.



  1. Departure
    1. The Call to Adventure
      The call to adventure is the point in a person's life when they are first given notice that everything is going to change: In the beginning of the novel, Neo is contacted by a mysterious computer hacker that tells him to "follow the white rabbit," which is actualized in the form of a rabbit tattoo on a punkish looking girl's back. Following this sign leads him to Trinity, his savior and love interest.
    2. Supernatural Aid
      Once the hero has committed to the quest, consciously or unconsciously, his or her guide and magical helper appears, or becomes known: Neo responds to the call, and is introduced to Morpheus and his band of helpers that have seemingly superhuman abilities.
    3. The Crossing of the First Threshold
      This is the point where the person actually crosses into the field of adventure, leaving the known limits of his or her world and venturing into an unknown and dangerous realm where the rules and limits are not known: Morpheus offers to answer Neo's most pivotal question; what is the Matrix? He offers him a pill that allows him to escape from this machine constructed world into "the real".
    4. The Belly of the Whale
      The hero often must venture through a dark and mysterious place to cross the threshold, ie the Belly of a Whale: Neo awakens in a dark, womb like enclosure, and is flushed out of this containment similar to a fetus being birthed, ultimately symbolizing him being reborn into the real world. 
  2. Inititation
    1. The Road of Trials
      The road of trials is a series of tests, tasks, or ordeals that the person must undergo to begin the transformation. Often the person fails one or more of these tests: In order to expand his mind and be able to break the rules of the machine-constructed Matrix, Neo must undergo rigorous training in machine generated constructs.
    2. The Meeting with the Goddess
      The meeting with the goddess is the hero's interaction with a powerful woman figure: Neo is re-entered into the Matrix in order to meet the Oracle, a powerful women who is able to prophecize and set him on the path to discover his destiny as the savior of humanity, or "the One".
    3. Atonement with the Father
      In this step the person must confront and be initiated by whatever holds the ultimate power in his or her life. In many myths and stories this is the father, or a father figure who has life and death power: Morpheus ends up sacrificing himself to save Neo, an in order to save him, he must re-enter the Matrix and complete the impossible; the rescue of Morpheus from the clutches of the Matrix.
    4. Apotheosis
      To apotheosize is to deify. When someone dies a physical death, or dies to the self to live in spirit, he or she moves beyond the pairs of opposites to a state of divine knowledge, love, compassion and bliss: Neo dies an apparent death at the hands of Agent Smith, but is resurrected by Trinity's love. When he reawakens, he has fully realized his destiny as "the One" and has gained god-like powers over the Matrix construct.
  3. Return
    1. Rescue from Without
      Just as the hero may need guides and assistants to set out on the quest, often times he or she must have powerful guides and rescuers to bring them back to everyday life: Back in the real world, Trinity and the crew are in danger and need Neo to return in order to unleash the EMP on the machines assaulting their ship. Trinity reaches across the worlds and alerts Neo to the danger with a call. He is successfully reintroduced to the real world.
    2. Master of the Two Worlds
      For a human hero, it means achieving a balance between the material and spiritual. The person has become comfortable and competent in both the inner and outer worlds: The conclusion of the film not only finds Neo with mastery over the Matrix, but fulfillment in the real world as well with his relationship with Trinity.
    3. Freedom to Live
      Mastery leads to freedom from the fear of death, which in turn is the freedom to live: At the end of the film, Neo announces to the machines that he is going to show humans a world free from their control.
The Matrix seamlessly fits into the monomyth's steps, and thus one can gain a greater understanding of romance through the study of mythic analytical tools. The Matrix may clearly be a hero's journey, but it is romance that saves the hero and allows him to understand his destiny and deify. Joseph Campbell believes that every tale is truly a Hero's Tale, but with romance so pivotal to the hero, it would not be a leap to claim that every story is a romance as well.





Monday, February 27, 2012

Snow White and the Bozeman Police Reports


As I was reading the wonderful Bozeman Police Reports from this past week, I was inspired to take the best reports I could find and construct a fairy tale around them. The following reports are the winners of the week, and provide the storyline for a retelling of Snow White.



  •   A man reported receiving a text message stating, “Hey, I hid the body. No one will find it. Thanks for all your help. Delete after receiving.”
  • A cell phone “covered in blood” found near an East Main Street bar was turned into police around 11:15 am
  • A caller reported seeing a person who “looks under 12” driving a Dodge Durango on North 11th Avenue near Main Street around 4:30 p.m. The caller said the driver “could barely see over the dash."
  • A bull rider in Helena said a woman claiming he was suicidal is not his girlfriend, described her as a stalker and told a deputy he’s filing a protection order against her.
Once upon a time, in a land known to many as Bozeman, there lived a beautiful mayor’s wife who was the fairest of them all. But one was destined to surpass her, as prophesied by the magical bathroom mirrors of a restaurant known as The Garage, and she was determined to kill the fair young lass. So, she hired the most courageous bull rider from a town known as Helena to track this Snow White down and put an end to her and her irritating good looks. The bull rider located Snow White with the help of an extremely nosy investigative reporter working for the Bozeman Daily Chronicle, even though said reporter had a history of utterly muddling the correct facts as many employees at the Chronicle tend to do, and snuck up on her with a murderous intent. Alas, the bull rider was unable to kill Snow White because he had fallen in love with her, and instead, ordered her to flee from the jealous mayor’s wife. He murdered a local grizzly bear instead, for we all know how Bozemanites feel about grizzlies and he didn’t think anyone would miss it. The bull rider cut out the heart and lungs of this poor bear with the plan in mind to show them to the mayor’s wife and claim they were, in fact, Snow White’s. In order to fully cover up his tracts, the bull rider texted his reporter friend that he had hid Snow White’s dead body and thanked him for his help, just in case the reporter decided to blab to the mayor’s wife, for many Bozeman Chronicle reporters were quite blabby indeed. Alas, the bull rider’s plan was thwarted by the magical bathroom mirrors of The Garage, who informed the mayor’s wife that Snow White was still alive and had taken up with a troupe of underground street-racing dwarves. The mayor’s wife then attempted to disguise herself and murder Snow White all on her own, but upon her arrival at the underground street-racing dwarves’ house, she was recognized. The dwarves quickly stuck Snow White in their nitrous-boosted Dodge Durango, and escaped down North 11th avenue, causing many concerned stares from locals who mistakenly believed the underground street-racing dwarves were, in fact, young children who could barely see over the dashboard. The mayor’s wife, undiscouraged, came up with a final plan to kill young Snow White. She would send the girl a poisoned I-Phone 4g, knowing such a popular and pretty young lady could not resist technology that allowed her to access social networking sites everywhere she traveled. Snow White was successfully tricked into picking up the poisoned I-phone, bled all over it, and fell into a deep stupor due to extreme blood loss. The underground street-racing dwarves placed her in a glass display case at the local Museum of the Rockies, hoping true love’s kiss could reawaken her. The head paleontologist at the Museum of the Rockies luckily had an affinity for pretty young girls, even though he was quite old, and kissed the sleeping Snow White, thus reawakening her. They married and lived happily ever after. Meanwhile, the mayor’s wife divorced the mayor for she had become obsessed with the bull rider from Helena. Because he was in love with Snow White, the mayor’s ex-wife became infuriated and attempted to kill him and frame it as a suicide. The courageous bull-rider successfully evaded her plot though, and filed a restraining order against the obsessed mayor’s ex-wife. The End.

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Love, Pastorally

This depiction of Daphnis and Chloe is in fact a set design for the Michel Fokine choreographed ballet, set to Maurice Ravel's music, entitled Daphnis et Chloe. The ballet first premiered in 1912, and the musical score is considered to be Ravel's greatest masterpiece. The ballet actualizes, through dance, the story of the two lovers, and the score takes the audience on a journey of deep emotional stimulation, echoing the feelings of the love story being played out in front of them. As one can see from the painting, the ballet is set in a countryside that dwarfs the two lovers, blending them into the landscape in a fashion that could cause the idle viewer to miss their presence altogether. This is reflective of the pastoral love theme present in the story. The innocence and naivety that defined the lovers relationship is reflected in the grand and seemingly untouched setting they are surrounded by. This pastoral theme is also echoed in a youtube clip I found of the ballet, and the viewer can see how the actual set design indeed reflects the painting above. The dancers are all in costumes that embody colors one could find in the countryside, colors of a pastoral nature that also serve to fortify this theme. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H1XSculJrRs

To further explore the theme of pastoral love, I would like to bring up a poem by Christopher Marlowe entitled The Passionate Shepard to His Love. This poem immediately reminded me of the Daphnis and Chloe story, and seems to perfectly embody the nature of their love. The first stanza reads
"Come live with me, and be my love;
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valley, dales and fields,
Woods or steepy mountain yields."
Within these lines, Marlowe is celebrating an enjoyment of the countryside, and the entirety of his poem  reflects an intricate tie between love and landscape. It was impossible for me to read this poem without Daphnis and Chloe in mind.

Friday, February 3, 2012

Six Degrees (or more) of Separation

The topic arose in class that a romance could not be considered a perfect romance until the young maiden was wedded and bedded. This is an intriguing concept, and catalyzed a thought process that eventually led me to contemplate the intertwining relationship between sex and romance. In the early stages of cinema, sex seems to be all together absent with the exemption of innuendos alluding to the subject. But perhaps it is the absence (or repression) of sex that contributes to the romance of these stories. Freud was first to voice the term sexual repression, and was convinced it was the stifling of sexual instincts that led to many problems materialized in the psyche. It seems though, that the absence of sex in early manifestations of film indicated the collective romantic ideals held on sex by the general population. Now my theory on this subject is merely in it's infancy, but I'm beginning to believe the repression of sexual instincts is what causes true romance. If two people in love do not consummate, it lends a weight to their every touch that would not be held if they had sex. Their platonic actions must express their love for each other because they have not or can not be together intimately, thus lending a romance to their relationship unmatched in a consummated couples. If this theory is true, one could take it a step further and make the arguement that it is the sepparation of lovers, their inability to be together physically, intimately, or emotionally, that incites the greatest romance. Take, for example, Titanic, a movie often cited as an exemplary film of the romantic genre. The two lovers are sepparated by class boundaries, thus lending an air of romance to their courtship unmatched in a couple who have no barriers that lie between them to overcome. The death of the boy, the ultimate sepparation, lends a wistfullness and nostalgia to the story that would have otherwise been missing had the two lovers made it off the boat alive together. Thus I present to you, the reader, that the greatest romances are not those that end with the couple happily ever after, but, in fact, the romances that utterly sepparate the lovers from one another.

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

The Age of Innocence

When I was a young lass, I used to run into and/or trip over many stationary objects. This was not because of my inherent clutziness (though that has caused a tumble or two), but because I used to bring books to school and could not be bothered to put them down in order to walk. As a youngling, I would travel around the treacherous and volatile playgrounds of Valley View Elementary school with my head in a book simply because I was so immersed in whatever fantastical world of words I was visiting that day. As I grew older, my reading methods evolved. I developed a tactic I like to call "stealth reading", and below I have included a guide for the everyday reader on how to master such a practice.


How To Stealth Read:
A Guide To Reading When You're Not Supposed To Be
Perhaps you're in class. You're bored, you're tired, and all you want to do is read the book you've stashed in your bag, but the pesky teacher is making you study out of a horribly old and awfully smelling text book. What's a bookworm to do? It is time, my friends, to put into practice the art of stealth reading.


Step 1. Grab whatever terribly large textbook you are supposed to be learning things out of and prop it up in your lap.


Step 2. Sneakily take out whatever wonderfully interesting book you've been dying to read all day and prop it up in your lap behind said terribly large textbook. The key is to hide the book you truly want to read behind the utterly dull textbook the American School System wants to educate you with. (Warning: this does not work with books larger than the textbook. Do not try. You will fail miserably).


Step 3. Proceed to read your book in class, safe from the pestering of the teacher because it looks as if you are reading their textbook and being a good little student. Besides, who the hell would be crazy enough about reading to bring their own book to class anyways?


Dangers of Stealth Reading:
1. If you are caught, you will be teased mercilessly for the remainder of the school year.
2. Teachers may catch you and take the book from you.
3. Other classmates may see you doing this and throw things at you, effectively distracting you from your reading.


Practice With Caution


My point in all of this is that when I was younger, the world of books totally engaged me. I was inseparable from whatever novel of the day I decided to attach myself to. Reading was an experience of pure pleasure, unmatched by any other. But as I grew older, I slowly and painfully learned the stylistic techniques authors use to give a story meaning, and reading became something different, more of an exercise of brain power than an enjoyable plunge into another world. The curtain was pulled back, and i could see the intricacies and inter workings of stories I once read simply for the love of a good, strapping yarn. No longer could I find that magical reading trance, once so easily accessed, that pulled me to another universe for hours, even days at time. The amount of books I read per month dropped from 8 to 1. For a while there, my enjoyment of stories was lost. Don’t get me wrong, I still took considerable pleasure in reading the expertly crafted novels that we were pointed to in school, but the day long treks through my childhood lands of magic were gone for a while. Such as Rashid in Haroun and the Sea of Stories believed he had lost his storytelling abilities, I believed I had lost my gift of effortless enjoyment in reading. And I was right in a sense. Once a person's innocence (or ignorance) has been compromised, it is almost impossible to regain. The salvation of my true love of books came in the form of a much condemned and snubbed genre of literature: science fiction. I had just finished laboriously reading through Philip Roth's The Human Stain, and while Roth is, in my opinion, one of the greatest living American authors, his novels aren't always summer reading material. It was then I stumbled across a book named Rainbow's End by Vernor Vinge, who, I believe, is a 4 time Hugo Award Winner. Around 20 pages in, something magical happened. The long lost reading trance began to slowly take hold once again. I would look down at the book, look up, and realize 4 hours had passed. I would read until my eyes were crusty with sleepiness, reluctantly put down the book and go to bed, knowing that the sooner I fell asleep the sooner I could wake up and continue reading again. In sense, I was back. What had caused the long hibernating trance to rear it's magical head once more I wondered? The answer was the utter believability of Vinge's future world. Imagination sparkled from every page of the novel, and 18 year old Nicole was once again enthralled by another world of words. When one is little, it is easy to believe in the worlds a person travels to within the pages of a novel. As one gets older though, these worlds develop holes, become shadowy, and eventually lose their pull. We surrender our imagination in order to grow up, and thus it becomes more and more difficult to imagine these words are real. As adults, we need help with our imaginings. Therefore, it took an author of unfathomable creative genius in Vinge to imagine for adult Nicole what youngling Nicole once knew effortlessly. With the bliss of innocence lost, it takes the superior imagination of another to bring it back. 




P.S. I realize I was supposed to begin this blog with a quote from Frye, but I must request an extension on this instruction in order to find one that fully does him justice.

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Very Big Fish

What the use of stories that aren't true? A question repeatedly asked of me by my aunt, who, upon hearing  I had decided to declare my major English Lit, immediately went straight to the liquor cabinet and poured herself 3 shots of tequila. I suppose this is a decently respectable question, but the answer to this lies all around us. What is the point of movies about fantastical realms, unable to exist in the real world, but actualized through the light and magic of modern day cinema? What is the use of allegorical tales about hobbits and wizards, set in a middle earth created solely from imagination, yet utterly believable? We are surrounded by webs of fiction, spun by authors of inspiring genius as well as writers of published clumsiness. The use of these stories stems from the truth found within them, no matter how unbelievably fantastic the tale might appear.
Upon immersing myself in Haroun and the Sea of Stories, what immediately struck me was the connecting threads between Rushdie's book and the 2003 Tim Burton film, Big Fish. Burton's movie tells the story of a father and son, separated by the father's love of storytelling. The son's frustration with his father stems from his attempts to learn anything about his father's childhood. When prodded for information, his father responds to his son's questions about his past with fantastical tales the son refuses to believe. At the heart of the movie lies the same question voiced in the opening paragraph of this blog; what's the use of these stories that aren't true? The son grapples with this question throughout the film, wondering how he can truly understand his father if everything the man tells him is merely a story. The film concludes with the father dying, and at his funeral, all the bizarre characters from the stories he told his son make an appearance. Ultimately, the son realizes that his father's tales, while exaggerated, were grounded in reality and thus offer insight into his life. The deepest reality of our lives may not, in fact, be our true selves. Instead, we are the stories we choose to embody, and it is through our stories that we may effectively live forever. Through our stories, we may all become very big fish, swimming in the ocean of notions.