Author Archives: DANIEL ZHAVORONKIN

Ah yes, the story that can be summarized, ‘guy turns into cockroach, the end’. Metamorphosis, and all the other works of modernist literature we’ve read this semester all play out like nasty fever dreams. And pretty much all of them have this underlying vibe of this diagram:

(src : https://roughlydaily.com/tag/baudrillard/)

This disorienting chart, along with many other seemingly more incoherent diagrams on google images is an example of Baudrillard’s Simulacra and Simulation. This one in particular displays how you can jump between Wikipedia pages through links, starting from the page of “Waffle House” and ending with “New Car Smell”. 

If you click the source link to the first diagram, you get a quote by Baudrillard that reads “Invisible threads are the strongest ties.” Now, back to Kafka and his esoteric contemporaries, his metaphor for the cockroach has a multitude of interpretations. The loss of humanity by isolation from what used to be his time-sensitive routine, or isolation from society when one reveals a non-conformist character as portrayed by how his family couldn’t find humanity within him after his metamorphosis, and so on. Our neurotic friend kafka Kafka also  intended “The insect is not to be drawn. It is not even to be seen from a distance,” (https://www.wsj.com/articles/kafkaesque-review-kafka-komix-1538084649). The help of some mental gymnastics can lead you to a whole new array of meanings for the symbol of the cockroach. Picking apart this text has led me down a couple of wormholes of my own, and this leads to trouble coming back to reality to convey a reasonable response. I mentioned ‘Simulacra and Simulation’, which is a long and confusing text written during the recent era of post-structuralism, and one of the ideas to take away from it is that we learn from our own contemporaries, who learn from past contemporaries, and so on. This behavior repeats itself in almost anything you can think of (rhythms in jazz evolve into hip hop, landlines evolve into supercomputer phones) and so on. This creates abstraction, and drives us further from the sources of things. Because we are not in the author’s head or their time period, a text riddled with metaphors like this one make me bang my head against the table and toil over the 3 possible explanations I have over why Samsa’s dad beat him with a newspaper. I think about how my day-to-day behaviors and speech patterns are so different from that of someone in the past, and what external influences cause this. Sparknotes can give a ‘reasonable’ explanation and summary of metaphors, but we will never have a true meaning to each and every word. Leo Strauss posed the idea of esotericism in ‘Persecution and the Art of Writing’, meaning that there is meaning between the lines of great works, which hides itself from the masses and unintentionally reveals greater messages given careful interpretation. The guy below explains it better than i do: 

If we really take into consideration everything Kafka has experienced, from the psychologically damaging relationship with his father, his life as a Jew in Prague, and the many undocumented events in his life that inevitably affect the outcome of what he chooses to write, can we reach a meaning to Metamorphosis that doesn’t just look good on paper, but is true? I could go on and on with this, and come to no conclusion.

“The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes

The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes” (Lines 15-16)

In the most literal sense, I believe this is referring to the polluted fog in London. I believe that T.S. Eliot is referring to the fact that it has a thickness that gives it life, allowing it to ‘rub its back’ and ‘its muzzle’. This is a poem filled with eyebrow-raising lines, but this one in particular stood out to me because of its repetition, almost as if he was saying the same sentence twice but mixed up some of the words the second time. This is also the only time in the poem where he rhymes a word with itself, and further conveys an emphasis on window-panes and yellow smoke in lines 24-25. I didn’t know what a muzzle was, so I looked it up and apparently it’s the part of the face that goes past the eyes in animals such as cats, dogs and horses (for humans, this facial bone is called the maxilla). This has led some people to speculate that the smoke is actually a metonym for a cat. Looking further into Stanza 3, this claim is supported by other devices of ‘catification’ (personification but it’s a cat) such as licking its tongue, lingering and sudden leaps. The cat is never directly named, but it is referred to by a series of actions and traits, broken apart by an inconsistent sequence. This is a part of a greater literary technique in modernist poetry known as fragmentation. One of the overarching ideas in modernism is that the meaning of life is not handed to us in a picturesque, perfectly sequenced plot of events and interactions. Life is disorienting and esoteric, and its meaning comes to us in bits and pieces in the midst of chaos. This may further point to why T.S. Eliot has an inconsistent rhyme scheme, broken by  repetition and bouts of what appears to be free verse. As I was reading this aloud, there was no iambic pentameter to carry along a smooth rhythm of words. The poem paced feverishly and the repetition in these two lines adds to that, almost like the train of thought of someone having a panic attack. The confusion I had when I encountered these two nearly identical lines echoed itself throughout the poem, by more loosely described metonyms and stanzas of seemingly random lengths. I still have trouble understanding why he alludes to a cat, or why he repeats the stanza of women in a room talking about Michaelangelo. One of the answers I got when looking at a line-by-line analysis of this poem is that ‘One can take almost any approach, any assignation of meaning, to J. Prufrock and his world. One can make their own meaning from the clues that are provided by Eliot’s writing.’ Thank you, poemanalysis.com.

Some websites I looked at-

https://poemanalysis.com/t-s-eliot/the-love-song-of-j-alfred-prufrock (where I first read about the cat and fragmentation and the ‘open-ended’ meaning of the symbols scattered throughout this poem)

https://poets.org/glossary/fragment (further insight into fragmentation)

https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/poetry/love-song-alfred-prufrock/summary (hoped to get a deeper look at stanza three but it was just a watered down version of poem analysis, same goes for sparknotes)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Love_Song_of_J._Alfred_Prufrock (making sure that he did write this in London – don’t want to make false claim about London fog)

1. In contrast to Hedda’s inherited pistols, which symbolize the decline of her connection to an aristocratic past as well as her destructive relationship with Tesman, the manuscript initially represented creation and hope. Lovborg’s developing relationship with Elva is a foil to Hedda’s marriage, as Elva acts as somewhat of a muse, helps Lovborg ‘channel’ his drunkenness and inspires Lovborg to start writing the manuscript. However, Lovborg and Hedda’s long-gone relationship, as well as their parallel inability of self-control makes Hedda very jealous of Elva’s connections to him. Her burning of the manuscript as well as his losing it magnifies this lack of control that either of them have over their own states. Lovborg’s inability to drink in moderation and Hedda’s bleak conclusion are both foreshadowed by this episode of the manuscript.

5. As this is one of the first modernist texts, it exists in the time during which the now expansive field of psychology is still embryonic, and during this period in the late 19th century many writers took interest in this field. This plays throughout the text and film adaptation, since it makes itself clear to the audience that what Hedda says does not align with her intentions. It may be a bold claim, but Hedda’s two-faced nature and her inability to control herself and fall within victorian social conventions makes me believe that she is one of the first neurotic female characters. A marriage made out of desperation, irrational jealousy and a desire to cling to her past do not add up to a neurotypical protagonist. This puts her in a very challenging position in society, as she is not able to seek modern professional help or ask those who she knows to console her, as revealing her true character would be social suicide. Her having to claim that her father’s pistol is ‘stolen’ would lead to the police confiscating it, and admitting that they are hers would lead to big trouble – having her stuck between a rock and a hard place. As someone with her head not in place, it would make sense that losing this last tie to her past would be a final straw.

The first thing to note about a comparison between Ibsen’s play in text and its televised adaptation is that they are not word for word. A lot of the changes to the original text appear to be done to make it more conversational allowing it to flow more smoothly, for  example a small change such as “But, they’ll have some fresh morning air”(782) to “But when they do get up, they will certainly need a breath of fresh air”. Had the play been adapted word for word, I assume it would be difficult to introduce the same tones the characters did. The actors do a great job enacting the script and give the characters a realistic depth. I felt Miss Tessman’s disgust when Hedda Gabbler called the hat old; the reaction seemed almost genuine. Hedda in the film is portrayed as domineering, which I think adds to her character. As she married Tesman out of desperation, the film’s tone makes their marriage out to be lackluster. Tesman plays out in a feminine style through the film, which really emphasizes this further and magnifies Hedda’s character. In the book, the magnitude of their relationship isn’t quite as easy to picture and the film adaptation does this some much-needed service. I think the film adaptation, however, does not take into account the nature of setting that Ibsen intended. This play, as well as ‘The Doll House’ are set in Norway, which by nature creates a sense of distance and isolation between people because of unforgiving weather and a geographic location that discourages the tourism we might see in the United States. There’s an adaptation of Doll’s House debuted in 1973 which portrays this seemingly unimportant aspect of the play much better, emphasizing how small towns in Norway are, forcing everybody to know each other’s personal affairs. Ibsen sets almost all of his plays in Norway, and Hedda Gabler is set in Kristiania. It would have been nice to see at least one homage to this in the setting.

Last year during winter break, I had a terrible flu. Leaving my bed would make me feel weary and dizzy, let alone making food for myself was a much bigger challenge. I asked my roommate, Bidyuth, to make me something that he’s familiar with as he’s very adamant about Bangladeshi cuisine. He made me a healthy portion of butter chicken with garlic naan, and insisted we eat it with our fingers. I was always curious about this etiquette, and when I asked he told me that this creates an additional connection to the food; the ability to feel its texture and warmth. He taught me that in his culture, that the purpose of food is not only to feed oneself, but to have a spiritual connection with the experience of eating. This was a revalation to me, as I have been cooking through middle and high school with the sole purpose of not letting myself go hungry. Bid was always critical of the fact that I wolfed down my food whenever we went out, and ever since I have been taking the time to enjoy the flavors of what I eat from day to day. In the uncertain times of a pandemic, Tolstoy’s work reminds us how the awareness of death is a catalyst for one to reflect over the patterns of one’s life. Ivan Ilyich has a stable job and surrounds himself with aesthetically pleasing things, and through the eyes of others is a successful man. But when faced with illness, the illusion of satisfaction with his own life crumbles, as well as his relations with others. The seconds, or even the days that pass by in our lives aren’t always the subject of thought until our mortality comes into question. The text itself is very slow and descriptive, and I felt Ivan’s ‘loneliness in the midst of a populous town and surrounded by numerous acquaintances’, as I am currently locked up in an apartment on the third floor of a nearly vacant building in Manhattan. The only person who went out of his way to help Ivan on his deathbed was the butler’s assistant Gerasim who helped move him to a more comfortable position. It is in these trying times that we realize who really matters. The closest friend of mine, Ethan who moved to Paris to study chemistry has been reaching out to me frequently and we talk for hours on end to make sure we are both okay and don’t lose our minds over an indefinite isolation. I’d say Tolstoy’s ability to narrate a man’s experience of such a harsh and earth-shattering subject makes this a great work.

The uncomfortably foreign subject of life as a slave is obviously the main emotional substance in both Douglass’ narrative and ‘Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl’. Both texts begin with a bleak story of childhood in captivity, focusing on estrangement from family. Where Frederick Douglass had no recollection of his birthday or parents, Harriet Jacobs recalls her father’s yearning to purchase his two children and free them from the family who owns them. These texts enlightened me on how brutal the conditions really were, as on top of the violence both narrators experienced they also both write about their experiences with harsh temperatures (Douglass recounting the frost that formed on his feet causing gashes big enough to hold the pen he writes with, or the summer heat from which Jacobs had no protection from except the shingles on top of her). However, where Jacobs shines new light on this subject is during her experiences in escaping her slave life. Where Douglass focuses on his learning to read in his new life, Jacobs narrates her challenges with motherhood. So much she wrote about them and her joy of hearing their sweet voices, but never actually being able to unite with them, longing for a home. “Through my peeping-hole I could watch the children, and when they were near enough, I could hear their talk.” This separation and the fondness which Jacobs describes her one-sided encounters with her children made this text hard to read. This text focuses more on the aspect of family, as Aunt Martha is Jacobs’ only real connection to a normal domestic life, offering her the luxury of stability and comfort.

1. The fact that the narrator is ‘revisiting’ One Barrel House and starts off by noticing “from the landlord to the waiter there was not a single person I knew makes me think back to William Blake’s ‘Lines Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey’, since both of them connote the theme of reminiscing. Similarly, although both texts use this as an excuse for writing, it is not what drives the text. Rather, reminiscing is a vessel to convey the message of how people change over time. “In the Wine-Shop” becomes a dialogue between the narrator and a long-lost colleague, Weifu. Focusing on how Weifu now is slower than the younger, more energetic Weifu from his memories, and asking him about the time between then and now emphasizes how this story is not about times past, but about how people evolve between times past and the present.

4. Our narrator’s reminiscence is a great way to further expand on the theme of change. His younger self recalls that he not only defaced statues, but that he wanted to revolt against the ruling structures of China. Confucianism incites in the first book that respecting elders is one of the core values to being a good person in society, and defacing statues that are likely homages to past figures would most likely be considered a very bold societal statement. Now, the narrator has given up on this revolutionary nature because he believes it is a waste of time and accomplishes little. This memory serves to show the difference between the ambitions of the past self and the current self.

2. Gregor needs to pay off his family’s debts as he is the only one in the family with a job. This gives him the role as the breadwinner, and he is stuck in a lonely, time-sensitive routine working as a traveling salesman. When he turns into a cockroach, one of his first realizations is that he is no longer able to go to work because of his appearance and inability to speak. A further consequence of this is that his family will no longer be able to rely on him as the sole breadwinner. A notable example of this event’s effect on the family is the change in the father’s attitude in part II. The father gets a job to hold down the family, and it comes with a nice clean uniform. As his role has changes, so does his demeanor. He acts more paternal and more aggressive towards Gregor, and is more confident. Gregor’s sister Grete also exhibits a change in attitude. As her role in the family becomes Gregor’s caretaker, her positive affiliations with Gregor dwindle. Her and Gregor’s mother alike are baffled by his new appearance, and their ability to see him as a person diminish.
3. Food in the Metamorphosis is a symbol that represents humanity and later on its lack thereof. In Part I, Gregor recalls from his human form that milk is one of his favorite meals, and has it on his nightstand and enjoys its sweet state. But as a loss of a job alientates Gregor from his routines as a human being, he also begins to lose taste for food. In the second part he is at a metaphorical fork in the road, no longer being able to enjoy the sweetness of milk and his sister brings him various scraps to enjoy. This can also be interpreted as a change in his family’s attitude towards him, as they choose to feed him what is meant to be eaten by vermin. In the third act he dies of starvation as he has not eaten his food. This represents the end of his metamorphosis, a complete alienation from humanity.

After kicking Mr. Covey in the ribs in frustration, Frederick Douglass and him fought for nearly two hours and Mr. Covey never laid a finger on him in anger again. Reflecting on this, Douglass narrates, “It rekindled the few expiring members of freedom, and revived within me a sense of my own manhood. It recalled the departed self-confidence …. cowardice departed, bold defiance took its place; and I now resolved that, however long I might remain a slave in form, the day had passed forever when I could be a slave in fact.”

At this point in the narrative, Douglass is at a fork in the road. Him and many others could choose between two unattractive fates: the familiarly ill conditions of slavery and the unknown threats posed to them should they escape. From our point of view this looks like a very easy choice to make because of the promising aspects of freedom and self-asserted independence. But it was at this point in his recollections I realized that many of the slaves have been almost completely stripped of their free will, and for them to make the mental leap towards this idealistic way of thinking was incredibly difficult in their conditions. In the introduction of his narrative, Douglass reveals that he was separated from his parents at birth, and that he had no knowledge of when he was born. He also made it clear that no other slave among him knew of their birthday either. I think that the way Douglass wrote about his experiences was revealing that there was something systematic involved in the way that slaveholders made their slaves obedient. When he wrote about the ways that specifically the younger slaves would be humiliated, and as a whole the way they’re treated seems very Freudian. The inability for a slave to form an identity during his or her childhood most likely neuters the ability for one to develop a sense of self-worth or optimism. When the odds are so held against a people that they are berated and held against their will for wanting to learn to read, it’s really inspiring the lengths that Douglass has gone through to actually attain a waged job towards the end of the narrative.

I think to recognize a great work, one has to ask themselves two questions. How did this work affect the people of its time, and how have the ideas in this work evolved to influence the trajectory of discussion? When a work of literature strikes waves and results in other works being derivative of itself, this hints at a great work. For example, references to the works of Shakespeare are rampant in modern western culture, from films borrowing their plots from his own, or the countless pop songs that reference ‘Romeo and Juliet’. To my understanding, the standard for a great work is that the ideas presented within such a work capture a part of the essence of their culture, and that this permits a meaningful discussion surrounding the work.

My first introduction to Alexander Pope’s ‘Essay on Man’ was actually through a detailed reading on Candide. Looking back, ‘Essay on Man’ was parodied heavily in Candide, in which Pangloss, a metaphysico-theologico-cosmolo-nigologist said that we live in the best of all possible worlds because everything that is created serves some form of end. In his book, the idea of this being the best of all worlds is treated as uneducated optimism and prevents one from benefiting themselves by building their own outcomes. This mocks Pope’s theological view of the oncoming scientific revolution, that God is the most perfect of all beings and that everything He has created should remain the way He envisioned it. In an age of space travel and cosmetic surgeries, Essay on Man is seen by many, including myself to represent a flawed and outdated way of thinking. It’s easy for us to make the argument that scientific accomplishments have wholly made our lives better because certain things are now easier to accomplish. This work got me thinking about whether or not our post-industrial revolution achievements have actually made our lives better. Manhattan is one of the technological epicenters of the world, and should be a place to feel in awe of what we have accomplished using engineering and mathematics. However, it often feels like there is not even time to do so. Time has become so strictly regimented that every waking minute must be spent benefitting something. Free time should be allotted to studying, exercise or to a productive habit. Most minimum wage jobs now have strict rulebooks to ensure that every worker is as productive as possible. Data analysis and technology join hand in hand today to ensure that we always have access to a constant inflow of information, and record our interactions to the point where big data knows more about us than we do. Section 4 of Essay on Man argues that man’s strides towards knowledge and perfection are where his error lies, leading to unhappiness. Section 3 complements this, where Pope asks, “Had he thy reason, would he skip and play?” Although antiquated, Pope’s work has made me question whether or not our accomplishments in technology are for the best. What if I never came to the city, and spent my days traveling across the country as a vagabond? Would I be happier having sacrificed my education to satisfy my senses of wonder and curiosity? I think many of today’s debates surrounding late-stage capitalism and Orwellian levels of surveillance can tie back to Pope’s idea that our natural state is that at which we are happiest. The profound conversations that can still be had regarding reason in this sense can at the very least, hint to ‘Essay on Man’ being a great work.