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.