Sarah Weaver: A critical response to 'In Search of Beein’: Nom/Non du Père in David Copperfield’ (Virginia Carmichael).
'In Search of Beein’: Nom/Non du Père in David Copperfield' furthers a traditional psychoanalytical reading of David Copperfield by considering ’David’s development in terms of his desire to experience and express the Imaginary in a Symbolic Order of differential value.’
Carmichael’s essay argues that David’s marital relationships seek firstly the image of his Mother, and later the comfort of a Mother. As well as this, many of David’s other relationships are created with those who represent a father-figure in some way. Indeed, she begins by addressing David’s ‘old unhappy loss’ of mother which leads to ‘partial identification with surrogate father and mother figures and alter egos.’ We immediately identify the image of Dora’s bouncing curls with that of his Mother, Clara. Dora becomes an escape for David, she is a way of returning to the past and from resisting self-development. This is evident in David‘s confession that ‘the more I pitied myself, or pitied others, the more I sought for consolation in the image of Dora.’
Dora then is just that, an image of what used to be, and what never was; an indulgence in the imagination. Dickens’s protagonist reflects on ‘what an idle time it was! what an unsubstantial, idle time.’ On the other hand, Carmichael identifies Agnes as the comforting image of the mother. Indeed, Agnes is David’s calming influence, she is, as Dickens so often reiterates, David’s ‘good angel.’ However, although David seeks comfort in ‘the remembrance of her clear clean eyes and gentle face came stealing over me, it shed a peaceful influence on me…,’ his relationship suffers a different loss in that it is desexualised.
Virginia Carmichael points to the many broken relationships in the novel, and the triangulations which complicate straightforward relationships. She draws on the likes of Steerforth and Heep who, in their dark doubling of David, complicate his sense of self. Another example that Carmichael draws upon is that of Miss Murdstone, yet another warped motherly interference who recurs in the novel- initially as a third party between David and Clara, and later between David and Dora. Here too Dickens draws together, and morphs the wife with the image of the mother An alter ego that the article does not make much of is that of Uriah Heep who embodies the sexual desire for Agnes which David lacks. Dianne F Sadoff notes the way in which ‘Uriah Heep also appears as a dark figure for David’s desire for success and self creation.’ Indeed, David cannot escape Uriah’s presence, he exclaims the the way in which ‘he knew me better than I knew myself.’ In a way, it necessary for David to quash any sexual feeling for Agnes in order to free himself from the grasp of Uriah Heep. In a similar way, Carmichael notes how David has to reject Steerforth in order to progress towards becoming a writer. Whilst Steerforth’s name appears to offer guidance, it becomes clear that David must take a different route in order to become both socially productive and happy. David’s drunken slurring to his friend, declaring ‘Steerforth-you’retheguidingstarofmyexist ence,’ is reminiscent of another warped guiding star: Estella in Great Expectations. In this novel, the protagonist never frees himself from the influence of his misguided star whereas David must reject this route of the alter-self and instead seek a motherly guidance in Agnes, ‘pointing upwards.’
Carmichael concludes that ‘the imaginary and the triangulated structures of the narrative, as well as the transcendental language, betray this ending tone of resolution, showing David still firmly imprisoned in the realm of the imaginary.’ I would suggest that, whilst with Agnes , David is able to become a productive being in the eyes of society, he has not free of his psychological loss. Indeed, the novel portrays the need to be both willing and able. Whilst Berkis is willin’, he is not able to continue in the novel, as is the case with Dora. This leads the reader to the somewhat melancholy conclusion that David does not replace the loss of his childhood, but that he follows his Aunt Betsey’s advice to ‘act the play out.’
Thursday 10 December 2009
Tuesday 8 December 2009
Lauren Broderick on Alex Zwerdling’s Esther Summerson Rehabilitated.
Alex Zwerdling begins his text Esther Summerson Rehabilitated by describing the common misconceptions surrounding Esther before he commences his defence of her. He believes that these criticisms are misunderstandings and so the reader must rid their comprehension of Esther of any clichés before they can be aware of her role in Dickens’ Bleak House.
The abuse Esther experiences as a child indicates a progression in how Dickens’ represents this from a physically abused Oliver Twist to an emotionally abused Esther Summerson. She is denied of any love which she consequently hungers for, so whenever she receives compliments she writes them all down and cherishes them as love even if she doesn’t believe them. In this way her constant denials of her own worth may not be false modesty but instead proof that any sense of self worth has been bullied out of Esther. This is a wound which will never heal in her and which spurs Esther on in her adult life. Her desire for love is so strong that she never clearly specifies what kind it is she strives for. Hence, her engagement to Jarndyce suggests her confusion between parental and romantic love. Furthermore, she is constantly a spectator in other people’s romances, such as Richard and Ada. This cements the idea that she is unsuitable for romantic love, something which her illegitimacy later seems confirms to her as she accepts she will never be loved in a romantic way but instead in a communal way by society. At the beginning of the novel she is treated like an old woman and so is clearly not looking for romantic love. Therefore, Jarndyce becomes the idyllic match in this situation. In addition, in her meeting with Woodcourt Esther’s style becomes flustered which depicts her anxiety at feeling a romantic attraction as opposed to a paternal or friendly love as she is used to. Esther’s love of Ada is a displaced form of romantic love. This may be a result of Esther’s view of Ada as girl she may have been if she’d not been born different. This theory is complemented in the text when Esther refuses to see Ada when she is ill as she believes: “I will die”. Her concern for Ada is so strong that if she became ill it would destroy Esther; this also validates the connection between them as the death of Ada would be the death of a possible Esther. Likewise, it is only after Richard has died and Ada is free to love her guardian again that Esther is able to marry Woodcourt. As both girls are two sides of a single nature it is impossible for them to both be engaged in romantic love at the same time and so this switch is necessary for the novels progression. In addition, Lady Dedlock is also a part of Esther. Her haughtiness and isolated opposes Esther’s immersion into the community as well as he cheerfulness. They are both also searching for something, Esther as a child and Lady Dedlock as a mother. Moreover, Lady Dedlock has given up her lover and married a man who she respects but does not love, a fate which Esther narrowly escapes. Indeed, her learning of the disgrace of her birth corresponds to her falling ill and so leads to her resolution that she too must give up the idea of romantic love and accept that she will have to live with communal love and be happy with it. Thus, she retreats into her safe world in Bleak House. Her marriage to Jarndyce would mean she would remain in this haven forever and the idea of this panics Esther meaning that her marriage to Woodcourt at the novels conclusion had rescued her from her resolve to be happy with communal love and to lock herself in Jarndyce’s Bleak House forever.
The abuse Esther experiences as a child indicates a progression in how Dickens’ represents this from a physically abused Oliver Twist to an emotionally abused Esther Summerson. She is denied of any love which she consequently hungers for, so whenever she receives compliments she writes them all down and cherishes them as love even if she doesn’t believe them. In this way her constant denials of her own worth may not be false modesty but instead proof that any sense of self worth has been bullied out of Esther. This is a wound which will never heal in her and which spurs Esther on in her adult life. Her desire for love is so strong that she never clearly specifies what kind it is she strives for. Hence, her engagement to Jarndyce suggests her confusion between parental and romantic love. Furthermore, she is constantly a spectator in other people’s romances, such as Richard and Ada. This cements the idea that she is unsuitable for romantic love, something which her illegitimacy later seems confirms to her as she accepts she will never be loved in a romantic way but instead in a communal way by society. At the beginning of the novel she is treated like an old woman and so is clearly not looking for romantic love. Therefore, Jarndyce becomes the idyllic match in this situation. In addition, in her meeting with Woodcourt Esther’s style becomes flustered which depicts her anxiety at feeling a romantic attraction as opposed to a paternal or friendly love as she is used to. Esther’s love of Ada is a displaced form of romantic love. This may be a result of Esther’s view of Ada as girl she may have been if she’d not been born different. This theory is complemented in the text when Esther refuses to see Ada when she is ill as she believes: “I will die”. Her concern for Ada is so strong that if she became ill it would destroy Esther; this also validates the connection between them as the death of Ada would be the death of a possible Esther. Likewise, it is only after Richard has died and Ada is free to love her guardian again that Esther is able to marry Woodcourt. As both girls are two sides of a single nature it is impossible for them to both be engaged in romantic love at the same time and so this switch is necessary for the novels progression. In addition, Lady Dedlock is also a part of Esther. Her haughtiness and isolated opposes Esther’s immersion into the community as well as he cheerfulness. They are both also searching for something, Esther as a child and Lady Dedlock as a mother. Moreover, Lady Dedlock has given up her lover and married a man who she respects but does not love, a fate which Esther narrowly escapes. Indeed, her learning of the disgrace of her birth corresponds to her falling ill and so leads to her resolution that she too must give up the idea of romantic love and accept that she will have to live with communal love and be happy with it. Thus, she retreats into her safe world in Bleak House. Her marriage to Jarndyce would mean she would remain in this haven forever and the idea of this panics Esther meaning that her marriage to Woodcourt at the novels conclusion had rescued her from her resolve to be happy with communal love and to lock herself in Jarndyce’s Bleak House forever.
Monday 7 December 2009
Rebecca on the Scrooge Problem
Rebecca Lilly on: Elliot L. Gilbert: 'The Ceremony of Innocence: Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol'
Gilbert’s essay 'The Ceremony of Innocence: Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol' addresses ‘the Scrooge problem’, that is, the critical tradition of questioning the sincerity of Scrooge’s sudden transformation from being mean-spirited to kind-hearted. Gilbert begins by listing the critics who have contributed to the debate. Edmund Wilson for example, first doubted the authenticity of Scrooge’s character change in his essay ‘The Two Scrooges’, in which, he argues that if we were to follow Scrooge beyond the frame of the story, he would: ‘unquestionably relapse into moroseness… [and]… vindictiveness. He would, that is to say, reveal himself as the victim of a manic-depressive cycle, and a very uncomfortable person’. Wilson’s attack on Scrooge is supported by Humphry House, in Dickens’s World, and by Edgar Johnston writing in Charles Dickens His Tragedy and Triumph, who both declare that Scrooge’s new identity is adopted too quickly to be psychologically convincing. However, Joseph Gold, author of Charles Dickens: Radical Moralist, contradicts all three when he suggests that by penning a fairy or ghost story, Dickens ‘deliberately avoids dealing with the question of spiritual growth’; thus removing the need to find Scrooge’s personality change believable.
Gilbert’s own view of the ‘Scrooge problem’ is mixed. He is quick to refute Gold’s theory when he argues that simply associating Scrooge with the world of fairy stories is too simplistic, as it does not account for the realism Dickens shows when representing his other characters. But examples to illustrate this are notably absent, and reflect Gilbert’s inability to fully disassociate A Christmas Carol from the world of make believe. He is however decisive in his rejection of Wilson’s view, that Scrooge’s reformation is wholly unbelievable and only temporary, when he proposes that there is sufficient emotional intensity generated by the three Christmas spirits to make Scrooge’s transformation genuine. But, he also admits that his support for Scrooge’s change of heart is not free from doubt, as similarly to House and Johnston, he feels that the ease of Scrooge’s alteration is questionable. Furthermore, to accept the overnight metamorphosis of a man who has spent a lifetime bullying clerks, revelling in misanthropy and grinding the faces of the poor, is ‘to deny all that life teaches in favour of sentimental wishful thinking.’
But, despite confessing to having his own reservations over the haste of Scrooge’s reform, Gilbert suggests that such uncertainty can be diluted when placed in the context of the author’s writing style. For he believes that as an author, Dickens is much more interested in what characters ‘are’ than in what they are ‘in the process of becoming’, and much more devoted to the vivid presentation of characters already accomplished selves, than analysing their developing nature. He also argues that Dickens should not be judged by the traditional standards of plausibility as he is primarily a metaphysical novelist. However, yet again he fails to give detailed examples of where such a broad statement can be applied to other novels by Dickens. He does however explain why he views A Christmas Carol to be metaphysical; it is because it portrays the journey of a human being trying to rediscover his own childhood innocence. Such innocence Gilbert claims is evident in Scrooge’s encounter with the ghost of Christmas past, when Dickens’s has Scrooge’s fiancé break off their engagement, because the man she sees before her is not the man she first knew. Here, he reveals that Scrooge was not always bitter and mercenary, and therefore not so different from the man we are shown at the end of the novel. Thus, Scrooge’s new self is believable as it is in part his old self.
To summarise, Gilbert’s essay provides a new hypotheses to explain the reader’s misgivings regarding the plausibility of Scrooge’s radical conversion; he is merely returning to his childhood innocence. While this is convincing, the fact that Gilbert fails to clarify at the end of his essay whether his reading has silenced his own doubts about Scrooge is significant. Clearly, the ‘Scrooge problem’ is not fully resolved. Moreover, Gilbert’s attempt to bypass the issue with his suggestion that Dickens is exempt from having to adhere to the normal rules of character realism, because he is a metaphysical novelist, is a weak defence. Protesting that the novel does not have to conform to conventional realism is exactly the same argument proposed by Joseph Gold, and criticised by Gilbert. The only difference is that while Gold argues for immunity on the ground of supernatural content, Gilbert argues for exemption of the grounds of the author’s style. Rather than looking for reasons to excuse the question of credibility in Dickens’s depiction of Scrooge, Gilbert’s essay would have gained more weight if he had examined why as a society we struggle to accept that that selflessness can triumph over self interest, or that a sick child can win the compassion of a villain.
Gilbert’s essay 'The Ceremony of Innocence: Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol' addresses ‘the Scrooge problem’, that is, the critical tradition of questioning the sincerity of Scrooge’s sudden transformation from being mean-spirited to kind-hearted. Gilbert begins by listing the critics who have contributed to the debate. Edmund Wilson for example, first doubted the authenticity of Scrooge’s character change in his essay ‘The Two Scrooges’, in which, he argues that if we were to follow Scrooge beyond the frame of the story, he would: ‘unquestionably relapse into moroseness… [and]… vindictiveness. He would, that is to say, reveal himself as the victim of a manic-depressive cycle, and a very uncomfortable person’. Wilson’s attack on Scrooge is supported by Humphry House, in Dickens’s World, and by Edgar Johnston writing in Charles Dickens His Tragedy and Triumph, who both declare that Scrooge’s new identity is adopted too quickly to be psychologically convincing. However, Joseph Gold, author of Charles Dickens: Radical Moralist, contradicts all three when he suggests that by penning a fairy or ghost story, Dickens ‘deliberately avoids dealing with the question of spiritual growth’; thus removing the need to find Scrooge’s personality change believable.
Gilbert’s own view of the ‘Scrooge problem’ is mixed. He is quick to refute Gold’s theory when he argues that simply associating Scrooge with the world of fairy stories is too simplistic, as it does not account for the realism Dickens shows when representing his other characters. But examples to illustrate this are notably absent, and reflect Gilbert’s inability to fully disassociate A Christmas Carol from the world of make believe. He is however decisive in his rejection of Wilson’s view, that Scrooge’s reformation is wholly unbelievable and only temporary, when he proposes that there is sufficient emotional intensity generated by the three Christmas spirits to make Scrooge’s transformation genuine. But, he also admits that his support for Scrooge’s change of heart is not free from doubt, as similarly to House and Johnston, he feels that the ease of Scrooge’s alteration is questionable. Furthermore, to accept the overnight metamorphosis of a man who has spent a lifetime bullying clerks, revelling in misanthropy and grinding the faces of the poor, is ‘to deny all that life teaches in favour of sentimental wishful thinking.’
But, despite confessing to having his own reservations over the haste of Scrooge’s reform, Gilbert suggests that such uncertainty can be diluted when placed in the context of the author’s writing style. For he believes that as an author, Dickens is much more interested in what characters ‘are’ than in what they are ‘in the process of becoming’, and much more devoted to the vivid presentation of characters already accomplished selves, than analysing their developing nature. He also argues that Dickens should not be judged by the traditional standards of plausibility as he is primarily a metaphysical novelist. However, yet again he fails to give detailed examples of where such a broad statement can be applied to other novels by Dickens. He does however explain why he views A Christmas Carol to be metaphysical; it is because it portrays the journey of a human being trying to rediscover his own childhood innocence. Such innocence Gilbert claims is evident in Scrooge’s encounter with the ghost of Christmas past, when Dickens’s has Scrooge’s fiancé break off their engagement, because the man she sees before her is not the man she first knew. Here, he reveals that Scrooge was not always bitter and mercenary, and therefore not so different from the man we are shown at the end of the novel. Thus, Scrooge’s new self is believable as it is in part his old self.
To summarise, Gilbert’s essay provides a new hypotheses to explain the reader’s misgivings regarding the plausibility of Scrooge’s radical conversion; he is merely returning to his childhood innocence. While this is convincing, the fact that Gilbert fails to clarify at the end of his essay whether his reading has silenced his own doubts about Scrooge is significant. Clearly, the ‘Scrooge problem’ is not fully resolved. Moreover, Gilbert’s attempt to bypass the issue with his suggestion that Dickens is exempt from having to adhere to the normal rules of character realism, because he is a metaphysical novelist, is a weak defence. Protesting that the novel does not have to conform to conventional realism is exactly the same argument proposed by Joseph Gold, and criticised by Gilbert. The only difference is that while Gold argues for immunity on the ground of supernatural content, Gilbert argues for exemption of the grounds of the author’s style. Rather than looking for reasons to excuse the question of credibility in Dickens’s depiction of Scrooge, Gilbert’s essay would have gained more weight if he had examined why as a society we struggle to accept that that selflessness can triumph over self interest, or that a sick child can win the compassion of a villain.
Tuesday 1 December 2009
Christmas Carol
Gearing up for the last class of term: here are some perspectives on Dickens' Christmas Carol for you. We've already mentioned in class what Elliot L. Gilbert (in his essay 'The Ceremony of Innocence: Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol', PMLA, 90:1 (Jan., 1975), 22-31) calls 'the Scrooge problem':
Edmund Wilson stated that problem succinctly and dramatically in his well-known essay “The Two Scrooges”: ‘Shall we ask what Scrooge would actually be like if we were to follow him beyond the frame of the story? Unquestionably he would relapse, when the merriment was over—if not while it was still going on—into moroseness, vindictiveness, suspicion. He would, that is to say, reveal himself as the victim of a manic-depressive cycle, and a very uncomfortable person’ [Wilson] … there is a discontent in even the most positive emotional response of the serious reader to this book. It is a discontent arising from the obvious disparity between the way in which moral and psychological mechanisms operate in the story and the way in which they seem to the reader to work in the ‘real world’.Gilbert says some interesting things about this 'disparity'. Also worth your time is Audrey Jaffe's 'Spectacular Sympathy: Visuality and Ideology in Dickens's A Christmas Carol' [PMLA, 109:2 (Mar, 1994), 254-265], which has interesting things to say about the visual dimension of the text; and Ruth Glancy's slightly wider-ranging 'Dickens and Christmas: His Framed-Tale Themes' [Nineteenth-Century Fiction, 35:1 (Jun, 1980), 53-72].
I also asked you to go see the Zemeckis film version, in part because I want to talk about the cultural currency of the text. I went to see it myself (and blogged my reaction); namely, that although I was a little put-off by the advanced publicity, in the end I was pleasantly surprised by the film itself.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
