Read the beginning of the novel:
Chapter One
A SQUAT grey building of only thirty-four stories. Over the main entrance the words, CENTRAL LONDON HATCHERY AND CONDITIONING CENTRE, and, in a shield, the World State's motto, COMMUNITY, IDENTITY, STABILITY.
The enormous room on the ground floor faced towards the north. Cold for all the summer beyond the panes, for all the tropical heat of the room itself, a harsh thin light glared through the windows, hungrily seeking some draped lay figure, some pallid shape of academic goose-flesh, but finding only the glass and nickel and bleakly shining porcelain of a laboratory. Wintriness responded to wintriness. The overalls of the workers were white, their hands gloved with a pale corpse-coloured rubber. The light was frozen, dead, a ghost. Only from the yellow barrels of the microscopes did it borrow a certain rich and living substance, lying along the polished tubes like butter, streak after luscious streak in long recession down the work tables.
"And this," said the Director opening the door, "is the Fertilizing Room."
Bent over their instruments, three hundred Fertilizers were plunged, as the Director of Hatcheries and Conditioning entered the room, in the scarcely breathing silence, the absent-minded, soliloquizing hum or whistle, of absorbed concentration. A troop of newly arrived students, very young, pink and callow, followed nervously, rather abjectly, at the Director's heels. Each of them carried a notebook, in which, whenever the great man spoke, he desperately scribbled. Straight from the horse's mouth. It was a rare privilege. The D. H. C. for Central London always made a point of personally conducting his new students round the various departments.
"Just to give you a general idea," he would explain to them. For of course some sort of general idea they must have, if they were to do their work intelligently–though as little of one, if they were to be good and happy members of society, as possible. For particulars, as every one knows, make for virtue and happiness; generalities are intellectually necessary evils. Not philosophers but fret-sawyers and stamp collectors compose the backbone of society.
"To-morrow," he would add, smiling at them with a slightly menacing geniality, "you'll be settling down to serious work. You won't have time for generalities. Meanwhile …"
Meanwhile, it was a privilege. Straight from the horse's mouth into the notebook. The boys scribbled like mad.
Tall and rather thin but upright, the Director advanced into the room. He had a long chin and big rather prominent teeth, just covered, when he was not talking, by his full, floridly curved lips. Old, young? Thirty? Fifty? Fifty-five? It was hard to say. And anyhow the question didn't arise; in this year of stability, A. F. 632, it didn't occur to you to ask it.
"I shall begin at the beginning," said the D.H.C. and the more zealous students recorded his intention in their notebooks: Begin at the beginning. "These," he waved his hand, "are the incubators." And opening an insulated door he showed them racks upon racks of numbered test-tubes. "The week's supply of ova. Kept," he explained, "at blood heat; whereas the male gametes," and here he opened another door, "they have to be kept at thirty-five instead of thirty-seven. Full blood heat sterilizes." Rams wrapped in theremogene beget no lambs.
Still leaning against the incubators he gave them, while the pencils scurried illegibly across the pages, a brief description of the modern fertilizing process; spoke first, of course, of its surgical introduction–"the operation undergone voluntarily for the good of Society, not to mention the fact that it carries a bonus amounting to six months' salary"; continued with some account of the technique for preserving the excised ovary alive and actively developing; passed on to a consideration of optimum temperature, salinity, viscosity; referred to the liquor in which the detached and ripened eggs were kept; and, leading his charges to the work tables, actually showed them how this liquor was drawn off from the test-tubes; how it was let out drop by drop onto the specially warmed slides of the microscopes; how the eggs which it contained were inspected for abnormalities, counted and transferred to a porous receptacle; how (and he now took them to watch the operation) this receptacle was immersed in a warm bouillon containing free-swimming spermatozoa–at a minimum concentration of one hundred thousand per cubic centimetre, he insisted; and how, after ten minutes, the container was lifted out of the liquor and its contents re-examined; how, if any of the eggs remained unfertilized, it was again immersed, and, if necessary, yet again; how the fertilized ova went back to the incubators; where the Alphas and Betas remained until definitely bottled; while the Gammas, Deltas and Epsilons were brought out again, after only thirty-six hours, to undergo Bokanovsky's Process.
"Bokanovsky's Process," repeated the Director, and the students underlined the words in their little notebooks.
One egg, one embryo, one adult-normality. But a bokanovskified egg will bud, will proliferate, will divide. From eight to ninety-six buds, and every bud will grow into a perfectly formed embryo, and every embryo into a full-sized adult. Making ninety-six human beings grow where only one grew before. Progress.
"Essentially," the D.H.C. concluded, "bokanovskification consists of a series of arrests of development. We check the normal growth and, paradoxically enough, the egg responds by budding."
Responds by budding. The pencils were busy.
He pointed. On a very slowly moving band a rack-full of test-tubes was entering a large metal box, another, rack-full was emerging. Machinery faintly purred. It took eight minutes for the tubes to go through, he told them. Eight minutes of hard X-rays being about as much as an egg can stand. A few died; of the rest, the least susceptible divided into two; most put out four buds; some eight; all were returned to the incubators, where the buds began to develop; then, after two days, were suddenly chilled, chilled and checked. Two, four, eight, the buds in their turn budded; and having budded were dosed almost to death with alcohol; consequently burgeoned again and having budded–bud out of bud out of bud–were thereafter–further arrest being generally fatal–left to develop in peace. By which time the original egg was in a fair way to becoming anything from eight to ninety-six embryos– a prodigious improvement, you will agree, on nature. Identical twins–but not in piddling twos and threes as in the old viviparous days, when an egg would sometimes accidentally divide; actually by dozens, by scores at a time.
"Scores," the Director repeated and flung out his arms, as though he were distributing largesse. "Scores."
But one of the students was fool enough to ask where the advantage lay.
"My good boy!" The Director wheeled sharply round on him. "Can't you see? Can't you see?" He raised a hand; his expression was solemn. "Bokanovsky's Process is one of the major instruments of social stability!"
Major instruments of social stability.
Standard men and women; in uniform batches. The whole of a small factory staffed with the products of a single bokanovskified egg.
"Ninety-six identical twins working ninety-six identical machines!" The voice was almost tremulous with enthusiasm. "You really know where you are. For the first time in history." He quoted the planetary motto. "Community, Identity, Stability." Grand words. "If we could bokanovskify indefinitely the whole problem would be solved."
Solved by standard Gammas, unvarying Deltas, uniform Epsilons. Millions of identical twins. The principle of mass production at last applied to biology.
"But, alas," the Director shook his head, "we can't bokanovskify indefinitely."
Ninety-six seemed to be the limit; seventy-two a good average. From the same ovary and with gametes of the same male to manufacture as many batches of identical twins as possible–that was the best (sadly a second best) that they could do. And even that was difficult.
"For in nature it takes thirty years for two hundred eggs to reach maturity. But our business is to stabilize the population at this moment, here and now. Dribbling out twins over a quarter of a century–what would be the use of that?"
Obviously, no use at all. But Podsnap's Technique had immensely accelerated the process of ripening. They could make sure of at least a hundred and fifty mature eggs within two years. Fertilize and bokanovskify–in other words, multiply by seventy-two–and you get an average of nearly eleven thousand brothers and sisters in a hundred and fifty batches of identical twins, all within two years of the same age.
"And in exceptional cases we can make one ovary yield us over fifteen thousand adult individuals."
Beckoning to a fair-haired, ruddy young man who happened to be passing at the moment. "Mr. Foster," he called. The ruddy young man approached. "Can you tell us the record for a single ovary, Mr. Foster?"
"Sixteen thousand and twelve in this Centre," Mr. Foster replied without hesitation. He spoke very quickly, had a vivacious blue eye, and took an evident pleasure in quoting figures. "Sixteen thousand and twelve; in one hundred and eighty-nine batches of identicals. But of course they've done much better," he rattled on, "in some of the tropical Centres. Singapore has often produced over sixteen thousand five hundred; and Mombasa has actually touched the seventeen thousand mark. But then they have unfair advantages. You should see the way a negro ovary responds to pituitary! It's quite astonishing, when you're used to working with European material. Still," he added, with a laugh (but the light of combat was in his eyes and the lift of his chin was challenging), "still, we mean to beat them if we can. I'm working on a wonderful Delta-Minus ovary at this moment. Only just eighteen months old. Over twelve thousand seven hundred children already, either decanted or in embryo. And still going strong. We'll beat them yet."
"That's the spirit I like!" cried the Director, and clapped Mr. Foster on the shoulder. "Come along with us, and give these boys the benefit of your expert knowledge."
Mr. Foster smiled modestly. "With pleasure." They went.
In the Bottling Room all was harmonious bustle and ordered activity. Flaps of fresh sow's peritoneum ready cut to the proper size came shooting up in little lifts from the Organ Store in the sub-basement. Whizz and then, click! the lift-hatches hew open; the bottle-liner had only to reach out a hand, take the flap, insert, smooth-down, and before the lined bottle had had time to travel out of reach along the endless band, whizz, click! another flap of peritoneum had shot up from the depths, ready to be slipped into yet another bottle, the next of that slow interminable procession on the band. [...]
Sunday 7 June 2009
Aldous Huxley
Aldous Huxley (1894-1963) is the author of Brave New World (1932) typical anti-utopian novel as Orwell's 1984.
Set in the London of AD 2540 (632 A.F. in the book), the novel anticipates developments in reproductive technology and sllep-learning that combine to change society. The future society is an embodiment of the ideals that form the basis of futurism.
The book starts off with the director of hatcheries describing a hatchery to a bunch of Alpha students. He explains the fertilizing, decanting, and conditioning process of people which is, when you come down to it, pure brainwashing.
The book then introduces a man named Bernard. Bernard is an alpha, but he’s queer. He’s shorter and less handsome than the other alphas. Bernard likes a girls named Lenina. Lenina, however, is having a guy named Henry, and has been having him for several months. Fanny one of Lenina’s friends tries to encourage Lenina to move on and to try other men. Lenina goes out with Bernard and that date ends with soma and sex even though Bernard said that they shouldn’t have sex on the first night.
This society is organized for the pleasure of the people. Their God is Ford. They have sex often with different people, and their taught in infancy certain prejudices. For example, the babies are taught to be satisfied with their own caste of which there are five: alphas at the top, then betas, gammas, deltas, and epsilons at the bottom. They’re taught to hate the country but like country sports. Every teaching has a specific purpose.
Bernard gets together with eleven other people and they worship Ford. They sing hymns (for example “Orgy Porgy”) to Ford and they experience Ford. They howl and shout to his name. Bernard, however, feels nothing. He shouts because the others are shouting and he leaves with an emptiness deeper than the one he came with.
Bernard suggests to Lenina that they go for a vacation to the savage reservation. Lenina agrees to go. Before they go, Bernard needs to get permission from the Director of Hatcheries named Thomas. Thomas tells him that he once went to the savage reservation and lost a girl he liked named Linda. Then he tells Bernard that if he continues with his behavior, Thomas will send him to Iceland.
Bernard and Lenina go to the savage reservation and they witness and “human sacrifice” where one Indian is whipped in reminder of Christ. Then they meet a woman that is fat and ugly but used to belong to the civilized world. Bernard figures out that she was the Linda that Thomas lost long ago. Linda had a son named John on the reservation of whom Thomas was the father. Having a child in this society was about as much a sin as being an adulteress in the Puritan society of The Scarlet Letter. John fell in love with Lenina.
Bernard had an idea. He decided that it would be good to have an experiment to see what would happen if a savage came to the civilized world. He wanted to bring John and Linda back into civilization. He pulled a few strings and was allowed to go on with his experiment. Linda was immediately rejected by society and by Thomas for being fat, and for being a mother. Thomas, quit his job as the director of hatcheries because he was humiliated at being a father. John, on the other hand, was an instant hit. The people loved him and brought Bernard instant fame. Bernard was able to get any girl he wanted, something he was not able to before. Bernard would host parties where John would be the guest of honor. One night, though, John didn’t want to show up. He rejected society and society rejected Bernard. Society went back to its old thoughts about Bernard. They thought he was a queer again. Bernard and John had a friend named Helmholtz who taught emotional engineering by the use of rhymes. John happened to have a copy of Shakespeare which he found at the reservation which he read to Helmholtz. Helmholtz was amazed at how well Shakespeare was at emotional engineering.
Lenina fell in love with John and John loved Lenina, but he was afraid of his feeling and felt unworthy for Lenina. One night, Lenina tried to seduce him but John ran from her, then attacked her calling her a whore.
All this while, Linda had taking one long soma holiday, and it was killing her. John got a call that Linda was at the hospital and dying so he rushed there to see her. Linda didn’t recognize him. She was having a soma induced dream about Pope, a guy she had at the reservation. Linda died and John wept for her while a bunch of little kids was led to the death hospital for their death conditioning. John was devastated. After leaving the hospital he saw soma being handed out to a group of workers. John runs there and throws the soma out the windows with the help of Helmholtz. This caused a riot among the workers and Bernard went to get help from the police. The police stopped the riot and supplied the workers with their share of soma. Bernard, Helmholtz and John are taken to Mustapha Mond, the ruler of this section of the world. He explains to them the necessity of stability and the reason he keeps them from Shakespeare, the Bible, and other old works of art. Bernard and Helmholtz are sent to separate island but John is allowed to continue living as he did to continue with Bernard’s experiment. John doesn’t want to stay so he seeks out a place where he can cleanse himself and live in solitude and finds a lighthouse. As part of his cleansing, he makes a whip and whips himself repeatedly with it. A few workers happened to see him doing so and the next day, John is swarmed with reporters. The next day more reporters come but this time Lenina is among them. She tried to seduce him but John whips her. That night, John commits suicide by hanging himself in the lighthouse and is discovered by a reporter the next morning.
Monday 4 May 2009
The Hours by Cunnungham
M. Cunningham, THE HOURS, 1999
Prologue
She hurries from the house, wearing a coat too heavy for the weather. It is 1941. Another war has begun. She has left a note for Leonard, and another for Vanessa. She walks purposefully toward the river, certain of what she'll do, but even now she is almost distracted by the sight of the downs, the church, and a scattering of sheep, incandescent, tinged with a faint hint of sulphur, grazing under a darkening sky. She pauses, watching the sheep and the sky, then walks on. The voices murmur behind her; bombers drone in the sky, though she looks for the planes and can't see them. She walks past one of the farm workers (is his name John?), a robust, small-headed man wearing a potato-coloured vest, cleaning the ditch that runs through the osier bed. He looks up at her, nods, looks down again into the brown water. As she passes him on her way to the river she thinks of how successful he is, how fortunate, to be cleaning a ditch in an osier bed. She herself has failed. She is not a writer at all, really; she is merely a gifted eccentric. Patches of sky shine in puddles left over from last night's rain. Her shoes sink slightly into the soft earth. She has failed, and now the voices are back, muttering indistinctly just beyond the range of her vision, behind her, here, no, turn and they've gone somewhere else. The voices are back and the headache is approaching as surely as rain, the headache that will crush whatever is she and replace her with itself. The headache is approaching and it seems (is she or is she not conjuring them herself?) that the bombers have appeared again in the sky. She reaches the embankment, climbs over and down again to the river. There's a fisherman upriver, far away, he won't notice her, will he? She begins searching for a stone. She works quickly but methodically, as if she were following a recipe that must be obeyed scrupulously if it's to succeed at all. She selects one roughly the size and shape of a pig's skull. Even as she lifts it and forces it into one of the pockets of her coat (the fur collar tickles her neck), she can't help noticing the stone's cold chalkiness and its colour, a milky brown with spots of green. She stands close to the edge of the river, which laps against the bank, filling the small irregularities in the mud with clear water that might be a different substance altogether from the yellow-brown, dappled stuff, solid-looking as a road, that extends so steadily from bank to bank. She steps forward. She does not remove her shoes. The water is cold, but not unbearably so. She pauses, standing in cold water up to her knees. She thinks of Leonard. She thinks of his hands and his beard, the deep lines around his mouth. She thinks of Vanessa, of the children, of Vita and Ethel: So many. They have all failed, haven't they? She is suddenly, immensely sorry for them. She imagines turning around, taking the stone out of her pocket, going back to the house. She could probably return in time to destroy the notes. She could live on; she could perform that final kindness. Standing knee-deep in the moving water, she decides against it. The voices are here, the headache is coming, and if she restores herself to the care of Leonard and Vanessa they won't let her go again, will they? She decides to insist that they let her go. She wades awkwardly (the bottom is mucky) out until she is up to her waist. She glances upriver at the fisherman, who is wearing a red jacket and who does not see her. The yellow surface of the river (more yellow than brown when seen this close) murkily reflects the sky. Here, then, is the last moment of true perception, a man fishing in a red jacket and a cloudy sky reflected on opaque water. Almost involuntarily (it feels involuntary, to her) she steps or stumbles forward, and the stone pulls her in. For a moment, still, it seems like nothing; it seems like another failure; just chill water she can easily swim back out of; but then the current wraps itself around her and takes her with such sudden, muscular force it feels as if a strong man has risen from the bottom, grabbed her legs and held them to his chest. It feels personal.
More than an hour later, her husband returns from the garden. "Madame went out," the maid says, plumping a shabby pillow that releases a miniature storm of down. "She said she'd be back soon."
Leonard goes upstairs to the sitting room to listen to the news. He finds a blue envelope, addressed to him, on the table. Inside is a letter.
Dearest,
I feel certain that I am going mad again: I feel we can't go through another of these terrible times.
And I shant recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and can’t concentrate.
So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness. You have been in every way all that anyone could be. I don’t think two people could have been happier till this terrible disease came. I cant fight it any longer, I know that I am spoiling your life, that without me you could work. And you will I know.
You see I cant even write this properly. I cant read. What I want to say is that I owe all the happiness of my life to you.
You have been entirely patient with me and incredibly good. I want to say that-- everybody knows it. If anybody could have saved me it would have been you. Everything has gone from me but the
certainty of your goodness. I cant go on spoiling your life any longer.
I don’t think two people could have been happier than we have been.
V.
A Room of One's Own
Virginia Woolf's concern with feminist thematics are dominant in A ROOM OF ONE'S OWN (1929).
In it she made her famous statement: "A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction."
The book originated from two expanded and revised lectures the author presented at Cambridge University's Newnham and Girton Colleges in October 1928. Woolf examined the obstacles and prejudices that have hindered women writers. She separated women as objects of representation and women as authors of representation, and argued that a change in the forms of literature was necessary because most literature had been "made by men out of their own needs for their own uses."
In it she made her famous statement: "A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction."
The book originated from two expanded and revised lectures the author presented at Cambridge University's Newnham and Girton Colleges in October 1928. Woolf examined the obstacles and prejudices that have hindered women writers. She separated women as objects of representation and women as authors of representation, and argued that a change in the forms of literature was necessary because most literature had been "made by men out of their own needs for their own uses."
Virginia Stephen Woolf
Virginia Woolf was born in London, as the daughter of Julia Jackson Duckworth, a member of the Duckworth publishing family, and Sir Leslie Stephen, a literary critic, a friend of Meredith, Henry James, Tennyson, Matthew Arnold, and George Eliot, and the founder of the Dictionary of National Biography. Leslie Stephen's first wife had been the daughter of the novelist William Makepeace Thackeray. His daughter Laura from the first marriage was institutionalized because of mental retardation.
Julia Jackson Duckworth died when Virginia was in her early teens. Stella Duckworth, her half sister, took her mother's place, but died a scant two years later. Leslie Stephen suffered a slow death from stomach cancer, he died in 1904. When Virginia's brother Thoby died in 1906, she had a prolonged mental breakdown.
Following the death of her father, Woolf moved with her sister and two brothers to the house in Bloomsbury. Vanessa, a painter, agreed to marry the critic of art and literature Clive Bell. He was the only person, whom she trusted sufficiently to show her unfinished work. Virginia's economic situation improved when she inherited £2,500 from an aunt. Their house became central to activities of the Bloomsbury group.
From 1905 Woolf began to write for the Times Literary Supplement. With Vanessa and Violet Dickinson she traveled in 1906 to Greece, where she carried Homer's Odyssey in her handbag. In 1912 she married the political theorist Leonard (Sidney) Woolf (1880-1969), who had returned from serving as an administrator in Ceylon (now Sri Lanka). Leonard Woolf was of Jewish descent, the son of a barrister. Woolf had anti-Jewish attitudes, but she loved her husband. Leonard Woolf had studied at Cambridge and from 1923 to 1930 he was a literary editor on the Nation. During WW I he was not called for military service, most likely due to his constantly trembling hands; and most of the Bloomsburies were conscientious objectors. In 1917 he set up a small hand press at Hogarth House, and worked as its director until his death. Leonard Woolf's works include novels, non-fiction, and his five volume memoirs Sowing (1960), Growing (1961), Beginning Again (1964), Downhill All the Way (1967), and The Journey Not the Arrival Matters (1969).
THE VOYAGE OUT (1915) was Virginia Woolf's first book. In 1919 appeared NIGHT AND DAY, a realistic novel about the lifes of two friends, Katherine and Mary. JACOB'S ROOM (1922) was based upon the life and death of her brother Thoby.
With TO THE LIGHTHOUSE (1927) and THE WAVES (1931)Woolf established herself as one of the leading writers of modernism.MRS. DALLOWAY (1925) formed a web of thoughts of several groups of people during the course of a single day. There is little action, but much movement in time from present to past and back again. The central figure, Clarissa Dalloway, married to Richard Dalloway, is a wealthy London hostess. She spends her day in London preparing for her evening party. She recalls her life before World War I, her friendship with the unconventional Sally Seton, and her relationship with Peter Walsh. At her party she never meets the shell-shocked veteran Septimus Smith, one of the first Englishmen to enlist in the war.
During the inter-war period, Woolf was a central character of the literary scene both in London and at her home in Rodmell, near Lewes, Sussex. She lived in Richmond from 1915 to 1924, in Bloomsbury from 1924 to 1939, and maintained the house in Rodmell from 1919-41. Their Hogarth Press had operated from the basement room in Tavistock Square.
The Bloomsbury group was initially based at the Gordon Square residence of Virginia and her sister Vanessa (Bell). Its other members were E.M. Forster, Lytton Strachey, Clive Bell, Duncan Grant, and Leonard Woolf. The consolidation of the group's beliefs in unifying aesthetic concerns occurred under the influence of the philosopher G.E. Moore (1873-1958). By the early 1930s, the group ceased to exist in its original form.
Since 1924, the Hogarth Press had published works by Sigmund Freud. Woolf met him in 1939.
In the event of a Nazi invastion, Woolf and Leonard had made provisions to kill themselves. After the final attack of mental illness, Woolf loaded her pockets full of stones and drowned herself in the River Ouse near her Sussex home on March 28, 1941.
Wednesday 29 April 2009
The Flappers
The term flapper in the 1920s referred to a "new breed" of young women who wore short skirts, bobbed their hair, listened to what was then considered unconventional music and flaunted their disdain for what was then considered "decent" behaviour.
The flappers were seen as brash in their time for wearing excessive makeup, drinking hard liquor, treating sex in a more casual manner, smoking cigarettes, driving automobiles, and otherwise flouting conventional social and sexual norms.
The term flapper first appears in Britain, though the etymology is disputed. It may be in reference to a young bird flapping its wings while learning to fly, or it may derive from an earlier use in northern England of flapper to mean "teenage girl" (whose hair is not yet put up), or "prostitute".
While many in the United States assumed at the time that the term flapper derived from a fashion of wearing galoshes unbuckled so that they could show people their bodies as they walked, the term was already documented as in use in the United Kingdom as early as 1912.
From the 1910s into the 1920s, flapper was a term for any impetuous teenage girl, often including women under 30.
Only in the 1920s did the term take on the meaning of the flapper generation style and attitudes, while people continued to use the word to mean immature.
Flappers went to jazz clubs at night where they danced provocatively, smoked cigarettes through long holders, and dated.
They rode bicycles and drove cars.
They drank alcohol openly, a defiant act in the period of Prohibition.
Flappers also wore "kissproof" lipstick and a lot of heavy makeup with beaded necklaces and bracelets.
They liked to cut their hair into "boyish" bobs, often dyeing it jet-black.
Despite its popularity, the flapper lifestyle and look could not survive the Great Depression. The high-spirited attitude and hedonism simply could not find a place amid the economic hardships of the 1930s. More specifically, this decade brought out a conservative reaction and a religious revival which set out to eradicate the liberal lifestyles and fashions of the 1920s.
In many ways, though, the self-reliant flapper had allowed the modern woman to make herself an integral and lasting part of the Western World.
F.S. Fitzgerald's house...
In October 1922 the Fitzgeralds moved to a house in Great Neck. Long Island.
Their house was a relatively modest one compared with the opulent summer homes of the seriously rich old American families - the Guggenheim, the astors, the Pulitzers - on another peninsular across the bay.
This, of course, provided Fitzgeralg with the basic topography for his novel and the distinction into a fashinable side - the Est Egg - and the unfashionable one - the West Egg.
Thursday 26 March 2009
Friday 20 February 2009
THE DANDY
WHAT IS A DANDY?
A Dandy is a man whose trade, office and existence consist in wearing clothes. Every part of his soul, spirit and person is referred to wear dresses wisely and well. In fact as the others dress to live, he live to dress. Everything he does is designed to make his social presentation more elegant, as great care has to be taken not to appear too extravagant in his dress and never slovenly. The Dandy, through his life and dress style, enjoyed to surprise public with provocative attitude and motion. His whole life is dominated by a strong beauty desire. Refusing utilitarianism, he loves luxury and everything that is referred to it like chinese porcelains, antique furniture, silver plate, paintings collections, immense garden. But also perfumes, flowers, beautiful dresses, elegance, comfort, good manners, poetry and melodic music. His posture is royal, showing an apparent seriousness and a good boy look.
ETYMOLOGY
The term Dandy was used for the first time in the song “Yankee Daddle Dandy”, sang during the American revolution in 1770. The words of the song joked about the tawdry uniforms of American soldiers. The term Dandy was referred to a man that bragged of his appearance, in spite of he wore ordinary dresses.
HIS PERSONALITY
The Dandy wants to catch the eye of the false moralist with his attitude. He isn’t interested in everything that doesn’t concern his beauty ideal; for example money that is only seen as a way to obtain beauty, that is more precious. He wants to make himself a piece of art in every meaning. But in spite of his unusual attitude he doesn’t want to get himself noticed because he thinks that the real elegance has to make people pass unobserved. From the excessive care of his aspect we can note that the Dandy is the perfect narcissist. He is often homosexual; because of his exaggerated narcissism that pushes him to love himself so much to fall in love with everything that is identical to him, that is the other men. But it doesn’t mean that a Dandy couldn’t love a woman, that often arouses in him only sexual desire or is seen as a decorative object. Besides the Dandy dawdles places of vice, passions and frenzy as brothel and places where is played gambler. His connection with drugs is conflicting; in fact on one hand he shelters in it, on the other he doesn’t tolerate to be slaves of something; so he tend to eliminate every dependence. However this lifestyle has some limits. Dandy’s drama is to become old and lose the prestige and the consideration acquired in the youthful age. Besides Dandy is victim of a world that doesn’t understand him. This can lead Dandy to a depression that he will try to hide with a well-being attitude.
WEARING STYLE
Dandy’s wearing style is very refined and full of particulars. He wear coloured silk and velvet dresses, with stiff collars, velvet brands and coats, true or false waistcoats, peg-top trousers, yellow and pink gloves, turned-down collars, gilded sticks and violet boutonnières. And also tiny bowler, bright tweeds and comfortable trousers, waistcoats and jacket and often a drooping lily. Another frequent element in Dandy’s wearing is the following tie. Among the different types of necktie these are the most frequent. From the point of view of the colours he abhors extreme use of colours and, so, he chooses soft dyes like tan, pink, light blue and duck (that is a light yellow) but he dressed above all in black, grey and white. His habits of dress and fashion were much imitated, especially in France where became a trend, especially in bohemians quarters.
THE DANDY AND THE BOHEMIENNE
The Dandy was often associated to the bohémienne but this two figures are different between them. In Fact while the Bohemian allies himself to the masses, is a poor and is interested in society; the Dandy is a bourgeois man who lives outside the society and isn’t interested on its problems.
DANDYISM
Brummell, the first British Dandy, created the phenomenon of Dandyism during the 18th century as a lifestyle. This trend arrived in France where it was linked to the aestheticism and then it appeared again in England during the 19th century, with the figure of Oscar Wilde. This phenomenon exists also nowadays.
THE DANDY AND THE AESTHETE
This two figure, although they seem similar, are very much different. An aesthete is an artist who uses fashion to promote himself and his art; instead the Dandy is a man of society who uses fashions, manners and conversation to please, seduce and amuse everybody to permit him the access to the higher rungs of society.
THE MOST FAMOUS DANDIES
Among the famous dandies we observe Oscar Wilde who became a fashionable man for his way of dressing. He expressed his individuality with green and large boutonnieres, bright red waistcoats, diamond stud, exaggerated collar, thick tie knot, lots of shirt-cuffs, square handkerchiefs, and loud pin-stripe slacks. His clothes were anti-Victorian; in fact he didn’t bear the middle class hypocrisy that didn’t allow vice.
A Dandy is a man whose trade, office and existence consist in wearing clothes. Every part of his soul, spirit and person is referred to wear dresses wisely and well. In fact as the others dress to live, he live to dress. Everything he does is designed to make his social presentation more elegant, as great care has to be taken not to appear too extravagant in his dress and never slovenly. The Dandy, through his life and dress style, enjoyed to surprise public with provocative attitude and motion. His whole life is dominated by a strong beauty desire. Refusing utilitarianism, he loves luxury and everything that is referred to it like chinese porcelains, antique furniture, silver plate, paintings collections, immense garden. But also perfumes, flowers, beautiful dresses, elegance, comfort, good manners, poetry and melodic music. His posture is royal, showing an apparent seriousness and a good boy look.
ETYMOLOGY
The term Dandy was used for the first time in the song “Yankee Daddle Dandy”, sang during the American revolution in 1770. The words of the song joked about the tawdry uniforms of American soldiers. The term Dandy was referred to a man that bragged of his appearance, in spite of he wore ordinary dresses.
HIS PERSONALITY
The Dandy wants to catch the eye of the false moralist with his attitude. He isn’t interested in everything that doesn’t concern his beauty ideal; for example money that is only seen as a way to obtain beauty, that is more precious. He wants to make himself a piece of art in every meaning. But in spite of his unusual attitude he doesn’t want to get himself noticed because he thinks that the real elegance has to make people pass unobserved. From the excessive care of his aspect we can note that the Dandy is the perfect narcissist. He is often homosexual; because of his exaggerated narcissism that pushes him to love himself so much to fall in love with everything that is identical to him, that is the other men. But it doesn’t mean that a Dandy couldn’t love a woman, that often arouses in him only sexual desire or is seen as a decorative object. Besides the Dandy dawdles places of vice, passions and frenzy as brothel and places where is played gambler. His connection with drugs is conflicting; in fact on one hand he shelters in it, on the other he doesn’t tolerate to be slaves of something; so he tend to eliminate every dependence. However this lifestyle has some limits. Dandy’s drama is to become old and lose the prestige and the consideration acquired in the youthful age. Besides Dandy is victim of a world that doesn’t understand him. This can lead Dandy to a depression that he will try to hide with a well-being attitude.
WEARING STYLE
Dandy’s wearing style is very refined and full of particulars. He wear coloured silk and velvet dresses, with stiff collars, velvet brands and coats, true or false waistcoats, peg-top trousers, yellow and pink gloves, turned-down collars, gilded sticks and violet boutonnières. And also tiny bowler, bright tweeds and comfortable trousers, waistcoats and jacket and often a drooping lily. Another frequent element in Dandy’s wearing is the following tie. Among the different types of necktie these are the most frequent. From the point of view of the colours he abhors extreme use of colours and, so, he chooses soft dyes like tan, pink, light blue and duck (that is a light yellow) but he dressed above all in black, grey and white. His habits of dress and fashion were much imitated, especially in France where became a trend, especially in bohemians quarters.
THE DANDY AND THE BOHEMIENNE
The Dandy was often associated to the bohémienne but this two figures are different between them. In Fact while the Bohemian allies himself to the masses, is a poor and is interested in society; the Dandy is a bourgeois man who lives outside the society and isn’t interested on its problems.
DANDYISM
Brummell, the first British Dandy, created the phenomenon of Dandyism during the 18th century as a lifestyle. This trend arrived in France where it was linked to the aestheticism and then it appeared again in England during the 19th century, with the figure of Oscar Wilde. This phenomenon exists also nowadays.
THE DANDY AND THE AESTHETE
This two figure, although they seem similar, are very much different. An aesthete is an artist who uses fashion to promote himself and his art; instead the Dandy is a man of society who uses fashions, manners and conversation to please, seduce and amuse everybody to permit him the access to the higher rungs of society.
THE MOST FAMOUS DANDIES
Among the famous dandies we observe Oscar Wilde who became a fashionable man for his way of dressing. He expressed his individuality with green and large boutonnieres, bright red waistcoats, diamond stud, exaggerated collar, thick tie knot, lots of shirt-cuffs, square handkerchiefs, and loud pin-stripe slacks. His clothes were anti-Victorian; in fact he didn’t bear the middle class hypocrisy that didn’t allow vice.
Monday 16 February 2009
Art vs Life
The novel presents a contrast between ART and LIFE.
Art is the expression of BEAUTY and FORM, while the main characteristics of Life are UGLINESS and SHAPELESSNESS.
Lord Henry encourages Dorian to treat his own life as if it were a WORK OF ART and to live fully and completely but at the same time to remain detached from it.
Here's a paradox: he must be involved and uninvolved, take part and remain a spectator of the event of life in order to comìntemplate beauty.
This contrast is particularly evident when Dorian walks to the theatre where Sybil Vane performs (chapter 4)
According to Wilde the purpose of Art is to show BEAUTY and to have no purpose (look at the epigrams in the Preface of The Picture of Dorian Gray) and he stated that in a period when art was used as a tool for social education and moral enlightment by the victorian writers such as Dickens.
Instead, the Aesthetic movement sought to free art from this responsability.
Art is the expression of BEAUTY and FORM, while the main characteristics of Life are UGLINESS and SHAPELESSNESS.
Lord Henry encourages Dorian to treat his own life as if it were a WORK OF ART and to live fully and completely but at the same time to remain detached from it.
Here's a paradox: he must be involved and uninvolved, take part and remain a spectator of the event of life in order to comìntemplate beauty.
This contrast is particularly evident when Dorian walks to the theatre where Sybil Vane performs (chapter 4)
According to Wilde the purpose of Art is to show BEAUTY and to have no purpose (look at the epigrams in the Preface of The Picture of Dorian Gray) and he stated that in a period when art was used as a tool for social education and moral enlightment by the victorian writers such as Dickens.
Instead, the Aesthetic movement sought to free art from this responsability.
Wednesday 11 February 2009
The Trial of Oscar Wilde
Oscar Wilde was involved in a homosexual relationship with Lord Alfred Douglas.
Douglas was the son of the Marquess of Queensbury – the man who provided the rules for professional boxing. The Marquess was outraged that Wilde would lead his son ‘astray’ and became determined to ruin the world famous playwright. He had originally planned to ruin the opening of The Importance of Being Earnest but Wilde got to hear of this and Queensbury was banned from attending. Instead he decided to leave a calling card on the notice board at Wilde’s gentleman’s club. It read, “ To Oscar Wilde, posing somdomite.” Wilde swore out a warrant for arrest of the Marquess of Queensbury on the charge of libel.
The result of all of this was a trial. The Marquess of Queensbury was represented by Edward Carson. Carson set out to prove that Oscar Wilde was, in fact, a homosexual and therefore that his client was not guilty of libel. Carson soon came up with the names of ten boys who Wilde had allegedly solicited for sex. He also obtained letters that Wilde had written to Douglas, revealing his feelings towards the Marquess’ son.
On the first day of the trial, Wilde attempted to have the proceedings overshadowed by his quick wit. But, over time, the dogged attacks by Carson wore him down. His humour was wearing thin. At one point the forty year old Wilde remarked to Carson, “You sting me and insult me and try to unnerve me; and at times one says things flippantly when one ought to speak more seriously.” When the trial concluded it was obvious that Queensbury had not committed an act of libel – Oscar Wilde was a homosexual. And so it was. The judge completely exonerated Queensbury, going further to actually state that he had been justified in calling Wilde a sodomite in public. Wilde’s friends urged him to get out of the country to avoid arrest on what was then the crime of homosexuality. Wilde’s pride, however, would not allow him to flee. He awaited arrest at the Cadogen hotel, confident that he could win. Yet, on the 5th of April the police did, indeed, arrive to arrest the world’s most famous playwright.
Wilde now faced a second trial to prove the charge of homosexuality. Now the truly lurid stuff started to come out. Despite the evidence the jury could not reach a decision. A second trial was ordered. Wilde was released on 5000 pounds bail on May 7th.
The second trial began on May 22. This time the jury was unanimous. Oscar Wilde was found guilty and sentenced to two years of hard labor at Pentonville Prison. At Pentonville Wilde found the going tough, almost unbearable. He was required to walk a treadmill for six hours each day. He became increasingly morose and unkempt. Jail officials feared that he was suicidal. Finally he was moved to Reading Jail. On May 18, 1897 he was released. But he was a broken man. Two and a half years after his release, on November 30, 1900 Oscar Wilde died while exiled in France. He was 46 years of age.
Famous words from Wilde’s discourse: "'The Love that dare not speak its name' in this century is such a great affection of an elder for a younger man as there was between David and Jonathan, such as Plato made the very basis of his philosophy, and such as you find in the sonnets of Michelangelo and Shakespeare. It is that deep, spiritual affection that is as pure as it is perfect. It dictates and pervades great works of art like those of Shakespeare and Michelangelo, and those two letters of mine, such as they are. It is in this century misunderstood, so much misunderstood that it may be described as the "Love that dare not speak its name," and on account of it I am placed where I am now. It is beautiful, it is fine, it is the noblest form of affection. There is nothing unnatural about it. It is intellectual, and it repeatedly exists between an elder and a younger man, when the elder man has intellect, and the younger man has all the joy, hope and glamour of life before him.”Monday 9 February 2009
The preface to THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY
Preface
The artist is the creator of beautiful things.
To reveal art and conceal the artist is art's aim.
The critic is he who can translate into another manner or a new material his impression of beautiful things.
The highest as the lowest form of criticism is a mode of autobiography. Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming.
This is a fault.
Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the cultivated. For these there is hope.
They are the elect to whom beautiful things mean only beauty.
There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written, or badly written.
That is all.
The nineteenth century dislike of realism is the rage of Caliban seeing his own face in a glass.
The nineteenth century dislike of romanticism is the rage of Caliban not seeing his own face in a glass.
The moral life of man forms part of the subject-matter of the artist, but the morality of art consists in the perfect use of an imperfect medium. No artist desires to prove anything. Even things that are true can be proved.
No artist has ethical sympathies.
An ethical sympathy in an artist is an unpardonable mannerism of style. No artist is ever morbid. The artist can express everything.
Thought and language are to the artist instruments of an art.
Vice and virtue are to the artist materials for an art.
From the point of view of form, the type of all the arts is the art of the musician.
From the point of view of feeling, the actor's craft is the type.
All art is at once surface and symbol.
Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril.
Those who read the symbol do so at their peril.
It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors.
Diversity of opinion about a work of art shows that the work is new, complex, and vital.
When critics disagree, the artist is in accord with himself.
We can forgive a man for making a useful thing as long as he does not admire it. The only excuse for making a useless thing is that one admires it intensely.
All art is quite useless.
The artist is the creator of beautiful things.
To reveal art and conceal the artist is art's aim.
The critic is he who can translate into another manner or a new material his impression of beautiful things.
The highest as the lowest form of criticism is a mode of autobiography. Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming.
This is a fault.
Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the cultivated. For these there is hope.
They are the elect to whom beautiful things mean only beauty.
There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written, or badly written.
That is all.
The nineteenth century dislike of realism is the rage of Caliban seeing his own face in a glass.
The nineteenth century dislike of romanticism is the rage of Caliban not seeing his own face in a glass.
The moral life of man forms part of the subject-matter of the artist, but the morality of art consists in the perfect use of an imperfect medium. No artist desires to prove anything. Even things that are true can be proved.
No artist has ethical sympathies.
An ethical sympathy in an artist is an unpardonable mannerism of style. No artist is ever morbid. The artist can express everything.
Thought and language are to the artist instruments of an art.
Vice and virtue are to the artist materials for an art.
From the point of view of form, the type of all the arts is the art of the musician.
From the point of view of feeling, the actor's craft is the type.
All art is at once surface and symbol.
Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril.
Those who read the symbol do so at their peril.
It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors.
Diversity of opinion about a work of art shows that the work is new, complex, and vital.
When critics disagree, the artist is in accord with himself.
We can forgive a man for making a useful thing as long as he does not admire it. The only excuse for making a useless thing is that one admires it intensely.
All art is quite useless.
À rebours by J.K. Huysmans
À rebours (translated into English as "Against the Grain" or "Against Nature") (1884) is a novel written by the French novelist Joris-Karl Huysmans.
It is a novel in which very little happens; its narrative concentrates almost entirely on its principal character, and is mostly a catalogue of the tastes and inner life of Jean Des Esseintes, an eccentric, reclusive aesthete and antihero, who loathes 19th century bourgeois society and tries to retreat into an ideal artistic world of his own creation.
À rebours contained many themes which became associated with the Symbolist aesthetic. In doing so, it broke from naturalism and became the ultimate example of "decadent" literature.
Plot Summary
Jean Des Esseintes is the last member of a powerful and once proud noble family. He has lived an extremely decadent life in Paris which has left him disgusted with human society. Without telling anyone, he absconds to a house in the countryside and decides to spend the rest of his life in intellectual and aesthetic contemplation.
He conducts a survey of French and Latin literature, rejecting the works approved by the mainstream critics of his day. Amongst French authors, he shows nothing but contempt for the Romantics but adores the poetry of Baudelaire and that of the nascent Symbolist movement of Paul Verlaine, Tristan Corbière and Stéphane Mallarmé as well as the decadent fiction of the unorthodox Catholic writers Auguste Villiers de l'Isle-Adam and Barbey d'Aurevilly.
He rejects the academically respectable Latin authors of the "Golden Age" such as Virgil and Cicero, preferring later writers such as Petronius and Apuleius as well as works of early Christian literature, whose style was usually dismissed as the "barbarous" product of the Dark Ages. Schopenhauer, he exclaims, has seen the truth and he clearly expressed it in his philosophy.
He studies Moreau's paintings, he tries his hand at inventing perfumes, he creates a garden of poisonous flowers. In one of the book's most surreal episodes, he has gemstones set in the shell of a tortoise. The extra weight on the creature's back causes its death. In one of the book's more comic episodes, he spontaneously decides to visit London. When he reaches the train station, he overhears some English visitors, whom he finds disgusting. Feeling that he now knows what London would be like, he immediately returns home.
Friday 6 February 2009
Sunday 25 January 2009
Utilitarianism
UTILITARIANISM is a moral theory according to which an action is right if and only if it conforms to the principle of utility. Bentham formulated the principle of utility as part of such a theory in "Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation" in 1789.
An action conforms to the principle of utility if and only if its performance will be more productive of pleasure or happiness, or more preventive of pain or unhappiness, than any alternative. Instead of 'pleasure' and 'happiness' the word 'welfare' is also apt: the value of the consequences of an action is determined solely by the welfare of individuals.
A characteristic feature of Bentham's theory is the idea that the rightness of an action entirely depends on the value of its consequences. This is why the theory is also described as consequentialist.
Bentham's theory differs from certain other varieties of utilitarianism (or consequentialism) by its distinctive assumption that the standard of value is pleasure and the absence of pain; by being an act-utilitarian; and by its maximising assumption that an action is not right unless it tends towards the optimal outcome.
Bentham formulated the theory, but the term was coined by John Stuart Mill.
Education Victorian Style
Education was an extremely controversial issue in the Victorian Era. Some thought that education belonged in the church others believed that the responsibility of teaching the youth of England rested with the state. Then there were the people who did not want any kind of modern schooling at all for it would take away a form of very cheap labor. Victorians had a lot to learn but not many people could agree on what to learn or who to learn it from. And, while they were addressing these issues, society had to answer the question as to who could attend school. Should girls be allowed to attend, or just boys? Should workers' kids be allowed to go to school or not? How about the poor, should there be charity for their children to go to school and should they go to the same schools as the rich kids? All of these questions needed to be answered, however, it remains a mystery as to whether they ever were.
Education before 1870 was kept in the church and what was known as ragged schools. These were schools for very poor children and they were established as a result of necessity when it became apparent that such children were often excluded from existing schools because of their ragged clothing and appearance. Charles Dickens saw ragged schools as very unsatisfactory and quite jury-rigged: "at best, a slight and ineffectual palliative of an enormous evil. . .And what they can do, is so little, relatively to the gigantic proportions of the monster with which they have to grapple, that if their existence were to be accepted as a sufficient cause for leaving ill alone, we should hold it far better that they had never been."
Ragged schools were taught by volunteers who would teach the students the necessities to survive life in England. These schools were connected by the Ragged School Union which was very much like the modern day school board. They were forerunners of schools created by the 1870.
when, all children from five to thirteen had to attend school by law. In winter in the countryside, many children faced a teeth chattering walk to school of several miles. A large number didn’t turn up. Lessons lasted from 9am to 5pm, with a two hour lunch break. Because classes were so large, pupils all had to do the same thing at the same time. The teacher barked a command, and the children all opened their books. At the second command they began copying sentences from the blackboard. When pupils found their work boring, teachers found their pupils difficult to control.
Thursday 15 January 2009
The Detective Story
The detective story is a genre based on the detective investigation of a mysterious crime which leads the discovery of the criminal responsible. In fact the story ends when the investigation is carried off and the method and culprit are revealed.
A detective story has as its main interest the solving of a mystery, whose elements are clearly presented to the reader at the beginning of the story, and whose nature arouses a curiosity which is gratified at the end.
It’s also something called a “whodunit” (who done it) because its main aim is to involve the reader with the investigation.
Features of Detective Stories
The father of this genre, Edgar Allan Poe, created a sort of fixed formula which was adopted by later writers and is still used nowadays. This model includes some constant elements:
- an urban setting;
- a mysterious crime;
- the detective who carries out a professional investigation;
- sometimes, the detective’s companion who can also be the narrator of the story;
- a policeman who is usually unintelligent and rather unimaginative;
- the importance of reasoning, including hypotheses and final solution, and of psychological analysis
- the widespread suspicion
- the suspance
- the opposition between “to be” and “to seem”
The Birth of the Detective Story
The beginning of the detective story can be find to Poe’s “Tales of Ratiocination” [“The murders in the Rue Morgue” _ “The Mystery of Marie Roget” _ “The Purloined Letter”]. The date of the publication of the first of them is also the date of the birth of Fictional Stories (1841). Edgar Allan Poe is considered the father of this genre because he created the first important fictional detective, Monsieur Auguste Dupin, a noble and refined man whose method of investigation was based on deduction.
This eccentric figure was also the inspiration for the most famous detective of literature, like Hercule Poirot, invented by Agatha Christie; and Sherlock Holmes, character created by Arthur Conan Doyle, who adopted Poe’s formula and made the plots of his stories more sophisticated; for example although he kept the urban environment, he sometimes introduced some exotic elements.
In the United States the professional detective, a new kind of fictional detective, was born and the crimes were carried out and then solved in the big American city. One of the most famous was Philip Marlowe, character created by Raymond Chandler; another famous American fictional detective-lawyer was Perry Mason, created by Earle Stanley Gardner.
Golden Age Detective Stories
The period between the two world wars (1920-1940) is considered the Detective Stories’ best period; in fact many detective stories, which earn lots success, were written. The stories of Agatha Christie are an example.
A detective story has as its main interest the solving of a mystery, whose elements are clearly presented to the reader at the beginning of the story, and whose nature arouses a curiosity which is gratified at the end.
It’s also something called a “whodunit” (who done it) because its main aim is to involve the reader with the investigation.
Features of Detective Stories
The father of this genre, Edgar Allan Poe, created a sort of fixed formula which was adopted by later writers and is still used nowadays. This model includes some constant elements:
- an urban setting;
- a mysterious crime;
- the detective who carries out a professional investigation;
- sometimes, the detective’s companion who can also be the narrator of the story;
- a policeman who is usually unintelligent and rather unimaginative;
- the importance of reasoning, including hypotheses and final solution, and of psychological analysis
- the widespread suspicion
- the suspance
- the opposition between “to be” and “to seem”
The Birth of the Detective Story
The beginning of the detective story can be find to Poe’s “Tales of Ratiocination” [“The murders in the Rue Morgue” _ “The Mystery of Marie Roget” _ “The Purloined Letter”]. The date of the publication of the first of them is also the date of the birth of Fictional Stories (1841). Edgar Allan Poe is considered the father of this genre because he created the first important fictional detective, Monsieur Auguste Dupin, a noble and refined man whose method of investigation was based on deduction.
This eccentric figure was also the inspiration for the most famous detective of literature, like Hercule Poirot, invented by Agatha Christie; and Sherlock Holmes, character created by Arthur Conan Doyle, who adopted Poe’s formula and made the plots of his stories more sophisticated; for example although he kept the urban environment, he sometimes introduced some exotic elements.
In the United States the professional detective, a new kind of fictional detective, was born and the crimes were carried out and then solved in the big American city. One of the most famous was Philip Marlowe, character created by Raymond Chandler; another famous American fictional detective-lawyer was Perry Mason, created by Earle Stanley Gardner.
Golden Age Detective Stories
The period between the two world wars (1920-1940) is considered the Detective Stories’ best period; in fact many detective stories, which earn lots success, were written. The stories of Agatha Christie are an example.
The detective story starting from POE
Edgar Allan Poe is also acknowledged as the originator of detective fiction. Poe invented the term "Tale of Ratiocination"
The ratiocination, however, is not just for the detective; Poe does not allow the reader to sit back and merely observe; the process of ratiocination which he sets up is also intended for the reader, as well as for the detective. In fact, the story becomes one in which the reader must also accompany the detective toward the solution and apply his own powers of logic and deduction alongside those of the detective. This idea becomes very important in all subsequent works of detective fiction. That is, in all such fiction, all of the clues are available for the reader, as well as the detective, to solve the crime (usually murder), and at the end of the story, the reader should be able to look back on the clues and realize that he could have solved the mystery. A detective story in which the solution is suddenly revealed to the reader is considered bad form. Poe, then, introduces one of the basic elements of the detective story — the presentation of clues for his readers, and in addition to the above, Poe is also credited with introducing and developing many other of the standard features of modern detective fiction.
For example, M. Auguste Dupin is the forerunner of a long line of fictional detectives who are eccentric and brilliant. His unnamed friend, who is a devoted admirer of the detective's methods, is less brilliant but, at times, he is perhaps more rational and analytical than Dupin is. He never, however, has the flashes of genius that the detective exhibits; instead, he begins the tradition of the chronicler of the famous detective's exploits — that is, he mediates between reader and detective, presenting what information he has to the reader, while allowing the detective to keep certain information and interpretations to himself. This technique has since been employed by numerous writers of detective fiction, the most famous being the Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson combination.
Poe is clearly responsible for and should be given credit for giving literature these basics of the detective story as a foundation for an entirely new genre of fiction:
(1) the eccentric but brilliant amateur sleuth;
(2) the sidekick, or listener, or worker for the clever detective;
(3) the simple clues;
(4) the stupidity or ineptitude of the police;
(5) the resentment of the police for the amateur's interference;
(6) the simple but careful solution of the problem through logic and intuition.
(http://www.cliffsnotes.com/WileyCDA/LitNote/Poe-s-Short-Stories-Summary-Analysis-and-Original-Text-Tales-Of-Ratiocination-Or-Detective-Fiction-Introduction-to-The-Murders-in-the-Rue-Morgue-and-The-Purloined-Letter-.id-145,pageNum-54.html)
The ratiocination, however, is not just for the detective; Poe does not allow the reader to sit back and merely observe; the process of ratiocination which he sets up is also intended for the reader, as well as for the detective. In fact, the story becomes one in which the reader must also accompany the detective toward the solution and apply his own powers of logic and deduction alongside those of the detective. This idea becomes very important in all subsequent works of detective fiction. That is, in all such fiction, all of the clues are available for the reader, as well as the detective, to solve the crime (usually murder), and at the end of the story, the reader should be able to look back on the clues and realize that he could have solved the mystery. A detective story in which the solution is suddenly revealed to the reader is considered bad form. Poe, then, introduces one of the basic elements of the detective story — the presentation of clues for his readers, and in addition to the above, Poe is also credited with introducing and developing many other of the standard features of modern detective fiction.
For example, M. Auguste Dupin is the forerunner of a long line of fictional detectives who are eccentric and brilliant. His unnamed friend, who is a devoted admirer of the detective's methods, is less brilliant but, at times, he is perhaps more rational and analytical than Dupin is. He never, however, has the flashes of genius that the detective exhibits; instead, he begins the tradition of the chronicler of the famous detective's exploits — that is, he mediates between reader and detective, presenting what information he has to the reader, while allowing the detective to keep certain information and interpretations to himself. This technique has since been employed by numerous writers of detective fiction, the most famous being the Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson combination.
Poe is clearly responsible for and should be given credit for giving literature these basics of the detective story as a foundation for an entirely new genre of fiction:
(1) the eccentric but brilliant amateur sleuth;
(2) the sidekick, or listener, or worker for the clever detective;
(3) the simple clues;
(4) the stupidity or ineptitude of the police;
(5) the resentment of the police for the amateur's interference;
(6) the simple but careful solution of the problem through logic and intuition.
(http://www.cliffsnotes.com/WileyCDA/LitNote/Poe-s-Short-Stories-Summary-Analysis-and-Original-Text-Tales-Of-Ratiocination-Or-Detective-Fiction-Introduction-to-The-Murders-in-the-Rue-Morgue-and-The-Purloined-Letter-.id-145,pageNum-54.html)
Monday 12 January 2009
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