Together (For Better or For Worse)

That John Donne’s poem Valediction: Forbidding Mourning and Judith Minty’s poem Conjoined present two different views of romantic relationships is not odd. Anyone even remotely in touch with the human race does not have to venture far to encounter varying opinions on love. Still, the degree of contrast in these two poems, from title to content, makes them two poems worthy of discussion. This contrast is obtained through, similes, metaphors, symbolizism, and inference.

There are some interesting differences that can be seen before reading the first line of either poem. For example, valediction—the title of Donne’s poem—is defined as a statement, speech, or letter of farewell. This already tells the reader that Donne’s is a poem of farewell, two parties leaving each other. Minty’s title, however, Conjoined, is an obvious reference to two or more things being joined together. A farewell and a joining, the contrast is already prepared. Another distinction is that the first poem is written by a man and the second is written by a woman. Nonetheless, the disparity becomes even more apparent when one starts reading the actual poems.

Valediction tenderly comforts the speaker's lover at their temporary parting, asking that they separate calmly and quietly, without tears or protests. This elevated state to which he ascribes his and Ann’s (John Donne’s wife) bond is contrasted with the love of “dull sublunary lovers,” meaning the love of ordinary lovers in most of society. This common love, “whose soul is sense,” cannot withstand absence, as physicality is the very thing upon which such immature love is cemented. By contrast, Donne declares that he and his wife share a “refined” love that is almost indefinable. It is “inter-assured of the mind,” which again points to an affection that is much more spiritual in nature than dependent on proximity of an individual’s beloved. Donne insists that he “care less, eyes, lips, and hands to miss.” His flesh doesn’t burn for his wife; his heart and mind do, and so does his soul.

As the poem continues, He reminds her that their two souls “are one.” This proclamation is again indicative of the divine connection the two share. And, again, flying in the face of the constraints of ordinary love that demands closeness and abhors absence, Donne makes another grand statement, urging his wife to “endure not yet / a breach, but an expansion, / like gold to airy thinness beat.” This statement calls to mind the old saying, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.” Donne is telling Ann that their love will grow to cover whatever physical distance separates them. The distance will not cause a rift in their love; rather, their devotion will actually increase in area as a result of the division. The reference to gold, a precious metal, furthers his view of their relationship as something precious, rare, and beautiful.

The last three stanzas of the poem contain one of Donne’s most famous metaphysical conceits (an extended metaphor or simile in which the poet compares two very unlike objects). He likens himself and his wife to the two feet of a mathematical compass. The compass in itself calls to mind sturdiness (because of its composition) as well as accuracy, precision, and certainty. It is also an instrument whose function depends on two parts working in tandem. Confidence and teamwork are the hallmarks of a mature love relationship--again a very different foundation than physically-dependent, immature loves. Fiery feeling alone will not accomplish anything; a mature relationship requires strength too. Ann, as the “fixed foot,” provides strength to Donne who, as the other foot that moves about, must roam far. He points out though, that it is Ann who “leans and hearkens” after him. This supports his claim that their love will expand to fill the space between them. Donne references Ann’s “firmness,” which reveals, again, his confidence in her feelings toward him. It is this firmness, he states, that “makes [his] circle just.” Circles are an image that symbolize not only perfection but infinity. The notion of the infinite, something that is without end, cements the notion of Donne’s elevated affection for his wife.

Conjoined, on the other hand, communicates a very different image of the marriage union. Agony over the joining of two people in marriage is the deep underlying theme. In fact, Minty's whole poem is one huge analogy of an unhappy marriage. In the very first line, the two onions only “joined by a transparent skin” are called a "monster." The skin is the joining of marriage of the two onions. The deformity of the two onions “each half-round, then flat and deformed \ where it pressed and grew together” demonstrates the adverse and unnatural affects of such a joining. Where the two onions come into contact with each other they have warped and deformed. This transparent skin has held and warped the two onions into the monster of one union.

The Chinese Siamese twins used are another example of the deformity of marriage. “Or like those freaks, Chang and Eng, twins \ joined at the chest by skin and muscle, doomed”. This line describes the agony and pain of being joined physically with someone. These twins go though life never alone with one moment of peace, their bond holding them back from things those unjoined can do. Such a permanent joining of two uniquely different beings drives the image of suffering into the mind, and again Minty points to what she believes to be the unnaturalness of the marriage union.

The deformed calf with the two heads from the result of a birth defect is yet another simlie for marriage. “An accident, like the two-headed calf rooted \in one body, fighting to suck at its mother’s teats;” implies that the joining of these two people was a fluke, an mistake, not guided by the destiny or fate that many like to attribute finding love to. This union was not supposed to happen, yet somehow it did, and as result a single, mutant soul has been created that is constantly fighting and the other in a quest for dominance and survival. Not exactly an example of the unselfishness that most say is inherent to marriage. The use of such a pitiful creature again seeks to dig out the feelings of remorse and pity.

The three examples of horrible unions lead into the third stanza where the real story of the unhappy marriage becomes known. The woman feels the man moving around in the house below her: “Do you feel the skin that binds us \ together as we move, heavy in this house?” They slink around on different levels of their home as if hiding from one another, but know exactly where the other is at all times. This shows that they are connected under the skin by their marriage just like the onion metaphor. They are unable to be separated just like the twins metaphor. “To sever the muscle could free one, \ but might kill the other.” Escape is out of the question as the couple is connected, and as Minty plainly says, “We cannot escape each other.” It is the logical conclusion and finalizes the whole assumption of this poem. The two becoming one in matrimony, forever joined now under the skin.

The Postmodern Quagmire (aka The Self-Hating Metanarrative prt 2)

In my estimation, the basic goal of Jim Neilson’s essay is to prove that The Things They Carried, along with other American Vietnam War Narratives, is so centered around the author’s desire to reconcile himself to his individual experience in Vietnam that his narrative completely ignores any political, social, or moral potential for message. Neilson sets about to prove this point by analyzing the author’s own state of mind, as well as how the postmodern worldview (which alleges to “provide space for individuals, groups, and beliefs previously marginalized by the metanarratives that comprise the Western tradition” and is prevalent throughout Things) actually causes the narrative to retreat into itself and focus “on literary and epistemological preoccupations at the expense both of a Vietnamese perspective and of any broader historical/political understanding.”

The insights I gained from this article and Jim Nielson’s criticisms for Things are virtually one in the same. Neilson put into words a tight, gray ball of frustration that has been growing in the back of my mind for months. I have already explained in the blog two weeks ago how postmodernism contradicts itself in one of its core assertions that metanarratives are totalitarian constructs that seek to dominate other schools of thought and should be rejected by society (this is clearly a metanarrative as it suggests that the world dump all other perspectives in favor of a postmodern one; that the postmodern theory is “true.” [FAIL]). However, there are other aspects of postmodernist theory that never quite sat right with me, but I couldn’t explain why. Well, this article certainly helped me find my words! One especially annoying aspect was postmodernism tendency to complicate issues by imposing questions (a valid and, imo, intellectually honest exercise), but then failing to offer any answers “since answers to questions…require facts that are knowable, history that is objective, and truths that are verifiable.” Or, pm will offer many possible answers/solutions, while never making distinctions between or endorsing any of them. Neilson reinforces this tendency by inserting an excerpt from Things: “when a man died, there had to be blame…You could blame the war. You could blame the idiots who made the war. You could blame Kiowa for going to it…You could blame the enemy. You could blame the mortar rounds. You could blame people who were too lazy to read a newspaper, who were bored by the daily body counts, who switched channels at the mention of politics. You could blame whole nations. You could blame God. You could blame the munitions makers or Karl Marx or a trick of fate or an old man in Omaha who forgot to vote.” (198-99) Now to hopefully gain a little perspective on this approach, let’s look at a separate, smaller-scale example. Let’s say that I am always sleepy during the week (lulz). Would this chronic exhaustion have more to do with the fact that I consume too many simple sugars during the week—which cause sugar highs and lows—or would it have more to do with the fact that I get less than 5 hours of sleep per night? In the same way, Neilson counters O’Brien’s assertion by saying that “some causes are more proximate and explanatory than others. Robert McNamara [US Secretary of Defense, 1961-68] is more responsible for deaths in Vietnam than an old man in Omaha who forgets to vote”, in the same way that my getting 5 hours of sleep is more of a factor to my fatigue than eating white rice instead of brown (although, for the record, I love brown rice). Postmodernism, to me, is often a rejection of common sense and logic like this. There are many factors, sides, and influencers in different situations—especially the controversial ones—and I believe postmodernisms recognition of that is it’s sole virtue. (After all, the denial of the man in Omaha and my eating too many simple carbs are genuine factors in their respective situations) Unfortunately, postmodernism merely acknowledges complexities and then retreats into itself to begin the unhelpful (if not destructive) cycle of circular reasoning, contradictions, and self-obsession. It does not try to sort through the data, to understand the world, to decipher the truth through logical deductions—it runs and hides in its panicked, little, introspective shell. Postmodernism reinforces the need for logic while ignoring logic itself.

This might seem like somewhat of a subject change, but for me the previous discussion brings to mind postmodernism’s claim that there is no such thing as universal truth. Again, as with most postmodern claims, this theory is doomed from the very beginning because the claim that there is no such thing as universal truth is a claim to an universal truth: that there is no truth. I mean, honestly, these people are saying “the truth is that there is no truth.kthnxbye:P.” FAIL!! While, there is a lot of grey area in this world, some things are simply true and some things simply aren’t, and postmodernism, to me, seems unwilling to make even this concession. I think this is what Orwell was warning society about in 1984, a postmodern government that can rule the world by changing people’s views on reality and truth. I don’t know, maybe everyone else already understood this when we first read the novel, in which case, I’m sorry I’m late. But I digress. My basic point with this whole shpeel is that logic shows me that our universe is designed to have metanarratives and universal truths, plain and simple. Any attempts to say otherwise immediately collapse on themselves. As to which metanarratives and truths are correct, well, now I’m getting dangerously close to theological territory. ;)

FIN. (In honor of the Olympics, eh? [Plus, I just like saying “fin.”])

P.S. Yeah, I know this is like an essay. Sry. :/

The Human Conditioned

In my opinion, this book is about more than just the human condition. While it definitely explores the emotional and mental range of the human race, I think that it takes the analysis to a different arena. Rather than looking at the experiences that connect us, it focuses more on the uniquely horrifying experiences that alienate us. It boldly lays before the reader the affect of war on O’Brien and—through O’Brien’s observations and assumptions—his comrades. I am not saying this as some simplistic, anti-war shpeel. In my personal view, war is necessary in certain situations. Similarly, I am not condemning the Vietnam War, I would have to do a good deal more research and thinking before completely condemning anything. I am merely expressing a respect for O’Brien’s attempt to express the inexpressible. It is his tale of what happens to the human spirit under the ghastliest of conditions—the human conditioned. Even if what he is saying is not true, it is, in my opinion, real.

This collection of stories has many different themes. They weave in and out of each other, winding themselves up just to unravel a second later. (Goodness, I’m feeling a tad lyrical tonight!) But, to me, one of the most prevalent themes is that of communication. In both The Things They Carried and Love, Lieutenant Jimmy Cross struggles to decipher the feelings of Martha, his long-time, unrequited love. The main topic of How To Tell A True War Story revolves around truth as it seems v. truth as it happened and the battle between the two (as well as the battle between the storyteller and the storylistener). Spin, Enemies, Friends, and The Dentist contain some interesting opinions on how communication works, as well.

I realize that I’m leaving that topic a bit too soon and that the one I’m about to add is going to seem bit undeveloped. That’s because it is. But I haven’t quite figured out what I want to do with either of them yet. So, I will unsatisfactorily state that irony plays a major role in all of the stories thus far as well, in my estimation.

That is all.

The Self-Hating Metanarrative :)

May I be frank for a minute? Cool.

I don’t know if Postmodernism makes me want to laugh, cry, or kick it in the shins. No offense to any believers out there (Really. Any ragging I do on PM is aimed at the ideas themselves, not necessarily the people who believe in them.), but it is one of the most interesting and ridiculous schools of thought I have ever encountered! It amazes me that a perspective that so thoroughly contradicts itself can be taken so seriously. I mean, if a theory is dethroned by its own definition (if you can call it that; I suppose you can get away with a lot when you claim that definitions are terrible and mean and refuse to take on one. But really, it does.), shouldn’t that raise some red flags??  Postmodernism says that metanarratives are bad, trying to rule human thought/behavior and only leading to the exclusion of other ideas. In fact, we can see from the picture on Mr. Dominguez’s blog prompt that some people are so convicted by this Postmodernist claim that they went out to protest and broadcast their beliefs. But wait a second, if you go out saying, “DOWN WITH ALL METANARRATIVES”(which is what a sign reads in the background), then aren’t you actually promoting Postmodernism as a superior world-view that should dominate all others??

Or, let’s say you don’t protest, but just believe in Postmodernism. Sorry, but the contradictions are still there, I’m afraid. You simply can’t get away from the fact that Postmodernism is a metanarrative, a perspective on life that, if adopted in your life, would proceed to exclude all others. I have heard people argue that because PM admits this itself (See Postmodernism For Beginners p.33), somehow that make’s this okay. Wait, what??? If you’ll forgive me for getting defensive for a moment, can someone please explain to me how if any average Joe off the street flips through a Bible he’s never really studied and points out two verse that “contradict” themselves (completely ignoring context, the meaning in the original language, and common sense), it is further “proof” that Christianity is nonsense; but if Postmodernism contradicts itself in its root claims, it somehow further “proves” that postmodernism is the way, the truth, and the light? The poet Maya Angelou once said, “If someone tells you who they are, believe them.” Well, I put that forth today that if a theory tells you that it’s bulls***, believe it.

All this being said, there are certain aspects of Postmodernism that I agree with, and I do not regret in the least studying it this past semester. I think it is very important to be aware of the fact that not everyone has the same opinions, that the mix of mutual and exclusive experiences in our lives gives each of us a unique world view, and, to that end, that our own opinions and views are shaped by our experiences and are not necessarily the universal truth we presume them to be. But the Postmodernist pill, as a whole, is just too much for me to swallow.

Maybe I’m taking this too seriously, but I guess I just expect largely adopted central perspectives to make sense. :/