My Seminar Paper can be found by clicking on the link, “Standing Up For Animals,” above.
Channeling ideas from the works of J. M. Coetzee
A collection of responses to J. M. Coetzee's novels.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Friday, November 18, 2011
Slow Man
Once upon a time, in J. M. Coetzee's novel, Slow Man, there lived a character named Paul. Paul's life turns upside down with the appearance of Elizabeth Costello, the author. Throughout his time spent with Elizabeth Costello, Paul learns how to overcome challenges of telling the truth through stories. Explaining Paul's beliefs, the narrator describes, "he tends to trust pictures more than he trusts words. Not because pictures cannot lie but because, once they leave the darkroom, they are fixed, immutable. Whereas stories... seem to change shape all the time" (64). Each time a story is told, certain aspects may be left out or changed, causing partial truths.
I began this blog post, with "once upon a time" because I noticed this phrase multiple times throughout the novel. Whenever I think about stories that contain "once upon a time," the first thing that pops into my mind is fairy tales. One difference between this novel and a fairy tale is the fact that "once upon a time" appears at the beginning of a story. In the novel, "once upon a time" appears in the body. One can argue that there are smaller stories throughout Slow Man. Readers know this because the narrator begins explanations about Paul's life with "once upon a time." The major difference is that Paul's life is surely not a fairy tale. In fact, his life is the complete opposite and on the different side of the spectrum.
Although there is a sense of conflict involved in the body of a fairy tale, there is always love and a "happily ever after" ending. Paul does not receive a "happily ever after ending." For example, the narrator explains, "Once upon a time his heart was his strongest organ... Then he met Marijana, and his heart suffered a change" (165). Paul fell in love with Marijana, his nurse. Although she did not love him back, Paul's desire for her grew stronger to the point where he wants to take care of her family. Marijana knew Paul supposedly wanted to pay for Drago's education because he wanted to thank her for helping him. In reality, Marijana does not know the truth because the real truth lies within Paul's longing to be with his nurse. By telling this story about Paul's heart, the narrator is showing that Marijana doesn't know Paul loves her secretly, she knows he wants to give back to her. Conflicting notions of Paul's true feelings are now present.
Another instance of the phrase takes place when Elizabeth Costello reminds Paul of when he met Marianna. She explains, "Perhaps once upon a time you took her photograph, and it happened that all your attention was concentrated on the image you were making, not on her, the source of the image" (97). Since Paul does not remember this experience, the readers do not know if Elizabeth Costello is telling the truth. The readers do not know if she is changing the way Paul and Marianna met in order for Paul to believe her story. In an alternative story, Elizabeth Costello may be telling the woman who supposedly played the part of Marianna, "Once upon a time he was head over heels in love with a woman named Marianna, an actress" (116). Here, we have the same situation, but the story has changed for each party involved. In order to get what she wants, Elizabeth Costello has modified the story so Paul and Marianna will meet. Readers will never know what the real story is.
In a discussion with Drago on whether or not Paul hates new things, Paul says, "Everything in the world was, once upon a time, new. Even I was new" (179). This is the same phrase, but used in a different place. Paul is saying his life is a story, "once upon a time I was born." Paul is implying that all of our lives are a story. Even Elizabeth Costello tells Paul, "Once upon a time you were a pale, well-behaved little boy...who took books too seriously" (231). Possibly, all of our lives begin with "once upon a time." Even if they do, our life stories will all be completely different. Maybe if we told our stories through photographs, we would never grow or develop as individual people. We would remain the same, unchanging human beings throughout our lives. Coetzee may be implying that we need to be dynamic characters and live fulfilling lives as we grow older in order to live happily ever after.
I began this blog post, with "once upon a time" because I noticed this phrase multiple times throughout the novel. Whenever I think about stories that contain "once upon a time," the first thing that pops into my mind is fairy tales. One difference between this novel and a fairy tale is the fact that "once upon a time" appears at the beginning of a story. In the novel, "once upon a time" appears in the body. One can argue that there are smaller stories throughout Slow Man. Readers know this because the narrator begins explanations about Paul's life with "once upon a time." The major difference is that Paul's life is surely not a fairy tale. In fact, his life is the complete opposite and on the different side of the spectrum.
Although there is a sense of conflict involved in the body of a fairy tale, there is always love and a "happily ever after" ending. Paul does not receive a "happily ever after ending." For example, the narrator explains, "Once upon a time his heart was his strongest organ... Then he met Marijana, and his heart suffered a change" (165). Paul fell in love with Marijana, his nurse. Although she did not love him back, Paul's desire for her grew stronger to the point where he wants to take care of her family. Marijana knew Paul supposedly wanted to pay for Drago's education because he wanted to thank her for helping him. In reality, Marijana does not know the truth because the real truth lies within Paul's longing to be with his nurse. By telling this story about Paul's heart, the narrator is showing that Marijana doesn't know Paul loves her secretly, she knows he wants to give back to her. Conflicting notions of Paul's true feelings are now present.
Another instance of the phrase takes place when Elizabeth Costello reminds Paul of when he met Marianna. She explains, "Perhaps once upon a time you took her photograph, and it happened that all your attention was concentrated on the image you were making, not on her, the source of the image" (97). Since Paul does not remember this experience, the readers do not know if Elizabeth Costello is telling the truth. The readers do not know if she is changing the way Paul and Marianna met in order for Paul to believe her story. In an alternative story, Elizabeth Costello may be telling the woman who supposedly played the part of Marianna, "Once upon a time he was head over heels in love with a woman named Marianna, an actress" (116). Here, we have the same situation, but the story has changed for each party involved. In order to get what she wants, Elizabeth Costello has modified the story so Paul and Marianna will meet. Readers will never know what the real story is.
In a discussion with Drago on whether or not Paul hates new things, Paul says, "Everything in the world was, once upon a time, new. Even I was new" (179). This is the same phrase, but used in a different place. Paul is saying his life is a story, "once upon a time I was born." Paul is implying that all of our lives are a story. Even Elizabeth Costello tells Paul, "Once upon a time you were a pale, well-behaved little boy...who took books too seriously" (231). Possibly, all of our lives begin with "once upon a time." Even if they do, our life stories will all be completely different. Maybe if we told our stories through photographs, we would never grow or develop as individual people. We would remain the same, unchanging human beings throughout our lives. Coetzee may be implying that we need to be dynamic characters and live fulfilling lives as we grow older in order to live happily ever after.
Monday, November 7, 2011
Disgrace
As a reader who has respect for the author’s intentions, I truly felt sad as I read about the action David Lurie did not take at the very end of J. M. Coetzee’s Disgrace. Leading up to the end, an affair with a student, being burnt in an attack by intruders, a daughter who was raped but doesn’t want the intruders to be brought to justice, letting unwanted dogs lick his hand, holding the unwanted dogs down as they are being euthanized, and honorably sending the dogs’ bodies through the incinerator, David appeared to be changing. After all that he has been through, I was astonished when David carried the dog, who had grown close to him and howled with the music, into the surgery room to be put to sleep. Bev Shaw asks, “I thought you would save him for another week… Are you giving him up?” In response, David says, “Yes, I am giving him up” (220). David has given up not only on the young dog, but also on himself.
After this small exchange of words, the only question that remains is why did David go through with the euthanasia? Before we can even answer that question, we need to establish the fact that Bev works for the Animal Welfare League and sterilizes and euthanizes because she cares about animals. She helps take care of sick and injured animals. Plus, she also is the only one who will make a dog feel comfortable by putting it to sleep. Although she calls it slaughter, the way Bev accomplishes this terrible fate is by petting, scratching, and talking kindly to the dogs before their disgrace is over and their souls transfer into a graceful world.
There was a time when David had to pull over and cry in his car because he could not get used to the killing of dogs. It seems like David has a newfound respect for Bev’s work because he understands how difficult it is watch a dog walk into a room with its tail wagging and never to walk out again. But then, David wonders if euthanizing a dog is a cruel act or a kind act and whether or not Bev is a “liberating angel or a devil” (144). He even calls himself a “murderer” and lets the dogs lick his hand (143). David’s conflicting feelings about the process of a dog’s disgrace of dying leaves him wanting to honor the corpses but at the same time feeling stupid for being a “dog undertaker.”
Just like the dogs’ corpses burn in the incinerator and his head was burnt by the intruders, David’s meaning of life has dwindled down to ashes. He wants justice in the world. But justice is hard to achieve when all parties are not on board. The unwanted animals, who did nothing wrong, are not brought justice when they are being euthanized. Although they are two completely different situations, just like David’s daughter Lucy did not report her rape, David did not save the dog in the end. Lucy’s rapists are out there in the world living a free life. The dogs, who did not commit a violent act or break a law, are dead. One of Coetzee’s intentions for the novel is to show how rare justice is. David had the total power to save the dog, but he didn’t. I was upset because it was his disgrace or dishonor that an innocent dog died by euthanasia when David gave up. David has given up on finding justice for his daughter, for the dogs, and for himself.
After this small exchange of words, the only question that remains is why did David go through with the euthanasia? Before we can even answer that question, we need to establish the fact that Bev works for the Animal Welfare League and sterilizes and euthanizes because she cares about animals. She helps take care of sick and injured animals. Plus, she also is the only one who will make a dog feel comfortable by putting it to sleep. Although she calls it slaughter, the way Bev accomplishes this terrible fate is by petting, scratching, and talking kindly to the dogs before their disgrace is over and their souls transfer into a graceful world.
There was a time when David had to pull over and cry in his car because he could not get used to the killing of dogs. It seems like David has a newfound respect for Bev’s work because he understands how difficult it is watch a dog walk into a room with its tail wagging and never to walk out again. But then, David wonders if euthanizing a dog is a cruel act or a kind act and whether or not Bev is a “liberating angel or a devil” (144). He even calls himself a “murderer” and lets the dogs lick his hand (143). David’s conflicting feelings about the process of a dog’s disgrace of dying leaves him wanting to honor the corpses but at the same time feeling stupid for being a “dog undertaker.”
Just like the dogs’ corpses burn in the incinerator and his head was burnt by the intruders, David’s meaning of life has dwindled down to ashes. He wants justice in the world. But justice is hard to achieve when all parties are not on board. The unwanted animals, who did nothing wrong, are not brought justice when they are being euthanized. Although they are two completely different situations, just like David’s daughter Lucy did not report her rape, David did not save the dog in the end. Lucy’s rapists are out there in the world living a free life. The dogs, who did not commit a violent act or break a law, are dead. One of Coetzee’s intentions for the novel is to show how rare justice is. David had the total power to save the dog, but he didn’t. I was upset because it was his disgrace or dishonor that an innocent dog died by euthanasia when David gave up. David has given up on finding justice for his daughter, for the dogs, and for himself.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Foe
There is a saying, "you don't know what you got until it's gone." Even the Folk/Rock legend, Joni Mitchell, sang about this in her song "Big Yellow Taxi." In J. M. Coetzee's Foe, this phrase sums up how Susan Barton thinks Friday feels now and her time spent on the island where she was marooned. Through Susan's process of storytelling, Coetzee is showing how the oppressors are giving a voice to the oppressed. Her story is one of discovering the truth behind Friday's cut off tongue in relation to the importance of communication. What she comes to find is that she has not escaped the island because she has found many other island-like formations in the city causing her frustration and Friday's sullenness. Like the song, she longs to be back on the island she has shared with Cruso where Friday can be safe and content.
From the very beginning, Susan did not want to be on the island. She could not understand how Cruso and Friday were happy and content living on the island without material supplies and without verbal speech. Cruso told her, "You think I mock Providence. But perhaps it is the doing of Providence that Friday finds himself on an island under a lenient master, rather than in Brazil, under the planter's lash" (23-24). The slavers on the mainland cut out Friday's tongue. Even though Friday does not have a tongue, he can still communicate with Cruso with simple words and hand gestures. Plus, in a sense, Friday is free on the island. He does not have to worry about being treated differently or sold into slavery in the middle of the ocean. Despite what Cruso says, while on the island, Susan still believes the mainland is much better than the island because Friday will have the luxury of modern conveniences and people to help him. In reality, Cruso and Friday already have everything they need on the island to live a fulfilling life. Cruso has asked Susan to remember, "not every man who bears the mark of a castaway is a castaway at heart" (33). He has made a home for himself and Friday. Cruso is not surviving; he is living and he does not need anybody to read his story.
Susan is learning and trying to express in her story the year spent on the island because she wants Cruso, Friday, the island, and herself all to be remembered. As she is trying to write her story, Susan discovers that her story is a series of mysteries. The truth lies with Cruso, who has passed away, and with Friday, who cannot speak. Susan wants answers to her questions about Friday's past. Through the process of writing her story, she is realizing that Friday is human, not a savage and should not be sold into slavery. In a civilized world, Friday is an island in his own body. Although he communicates in other ways, such as music, Friday cannot talk or fully communicate in speech. Without a form of verbal communication, Friday is alone in a world full of people. Friday dances "to remove himself, or his spirit, from Newington and England" (104). Friday is dancing to get away. He is transported back to his home on the island, back to where he is comfortable. His dancing is an island itself.
In reality, Susan does not literally want to be back on the island she has shared with Cruso. She wants to be in a peaceful place where she can find the answers to her questions. Like Cruso did on the island, Susan is only trying to live her life in the city. But, unlike Cruso, her life cannot start until her story is written. In the song, Joni Mitchell said, "they took all the trees and put them in a tree museum." By taking Friday off the island and returning to civilization, Susan has learned that Friday does not belong in the city. People will take advantage of him and sell him into slavery for money because he cannot speak. Slavery is Friday's prison or "museum" in the civilized land. Susan is able to see how Friday can never be free. In order to continue her story, Friday needs to speak. Foe has said, "Friday has no speech, but he has fingers, and those fingers shall be his means" (143). Friday's freedom in the civilized world will come with his written words about the island. Coetzee is showing how the oppressed do not have their own voice. It will take a long time until the victim's voice can truly be heard. Through Susan's storytelling, outsiders get to hear what the civilized people think of how the oppressed feel. When it comes down to it, sometimes the oppressors are wrong. The truth can only come from the oppressed.
From the very beginning, Susan did not want to be on the island. She could not understand how Cruso and Friday were happy and content living on the island without material supplies and without verbal speech. Cruso told her, "You think I mock Providence. But perhaps it is the doing of Providence that Friday finds himself on an island under a lenient master, rather than in Brazil, under the planter's lash" (23-24). The slavers on the mainland cut out Friday's tongue. Even though Friday does not have a tongue, he can still communicate with Cruso with simple words and hand gestures. Plus, in a sense, Friday is free on the island. He does not have to worry about being treated differently or sold into slavery in the middle of the ocean. Despite what Cruso says, while on the island, Susan still believes the mainland is much better than the island because Friday will have the luxury of modern conveniences and people to help him. In reality, Cruso and Friday already have everything they need on the island to live a fulfilling life. Cruso has asked Susan to remember, "not every man who bears the mark of a castaway is a castaway at heart" (33). He has made a home for himself and Friday. Cruso is not surviving; he is living and he does not need anybody to read his story.
Susan is learning and trying to express in her story the year spent on the island because she wants Cruso, Friday, the island, and herself all to be remembered. As she is trying to write her story, Susan discovers that her story is a series of mysteries. The truth lies with Cruso, who has passed away, and with Friday, who cannot speak. Susan wants answers to her questions about Friday's past. Through the process of writing her story, she is realizing that Friday is human, not a savage and should not be sold into slavery. In a civilized world, Friday is an island in his own body. Although he communicates in other ways, such as music, Friday cannot talk or fully communicate in speech. Without a form of verbal communication, Friday is alone in a world full of people. Friday dances "to remove himself, or his spirit, from Newington and England" (104). Friday is dancing to get away. He is transported back to his home on the island, back to where he is comfortable. His dancing is an island itself.
In reality, Susan does not literally want to be back on the island she has shared with Cruso. She wants to be in a peaceful place where she can find the answers to her questions. Like Cruso did on the island, Susan is only trying to live her life in the city. But, unlike Cruso, her life cannot start until her story is written. In the song, Joni Mitchell said, "they took all the trees and put them in a tree museum." By taking Friday off the island and returning to civilization, Susan has learned that Friday does not belong in the city. People will take advantage of him and sell him into slavery for money because he cannot speak. Slavery is Friday's prison or "museum" in the civilized land. Susan is able to see how Friday can never be free. In order to continue her story, Friday needs to speak. Foe has said, "Friday has no speech, but he has fingers, and those fingers shall be his means" (143). Friday's freedom in the civilized world will come with his written words about the island. Coetzee is showing how the oppressed do not have their own voice. It will take a long time until the victim's voice can truly be heard. Through Susan's storytelling, outsiders get to hear what the civilized people think of how the oppressed feel. When it comes down to it, sometimes the oppressors are wrong. The truth can only come from the oppressed.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Life and Times of Michael K
There are many different kinds of fences in this world. Some fences add to the aesthetic appeal of a property while other fences are meant to keep unwanted intruders out or even unwanted vagrants captive. J. M. Coetzee symbolizes fences as figurative barriers in Life and Times of Michael K. A fence is a metaphor, not only of Michael’s life in the novel, but fences also have meaning in regards to war and even have a presence in our society as well. In the novel, by moving from town to town, camp to camp, or building to building, Michael learns the meaning of life between all of these fences that are constructed and supposedly doing their jobs. When Michael moves, he crosses these boundaries that are set up by the authority just so he can live in peace, while an individual in today’s society might cross a fence in order to have a better life.
In the novel, Michael comes across many borders in the form of barbed-wire fences. Most of these fences on farms are meant to keep people out, but in the camps, the fences are meant to keep people in. The first distinct time readers encounter a border is when Michael climbs over a barbed-wire fence into an apple orchard where, “worm-eaten fruit lay everywhere underfoot; the fruit on the branches was undersized and infested” (39). Michael learns here that he will actually eat this infested fruit in order to survive, meaning that he will do anything to be a part of this earth. Michael is constantly saying that he is a gardener. He learns that whoever owns this land is not taking care of the orchard and the plant life is dying. Michael finds life in this death and is able to satisfy his hunger. He also instills in himself a stronger connection with the land and the value of plants, making this need to cross any fence to find the purpose of life in the land.
Even the house on the farm where his mother grew up is a fence in itself. Inside is desolate and he only finds comfort when he sleeps in the kitchen because there is a hole in the ceiling and Michael can see the stars. Michael is so connected to the earth that he needs his freedom, away from fences in order to flourish. That is why he planted pumpkins near the river bank. But then, when he leaves and escapes to the mountains, Michael worries, “tomorrow will be their last day… the day after that they will wilt, and the day after that they will die” (65). He views these plants as his children. Even when he is up in the mountains, away from fencing, Michael still shows his concern for his pumpkins. He learns that even though he had to abandon his “children” in order to survive, he feels guilty. Living off the land, away from fences, Michael has started a life and he is now able to show his true emotions and feelings. Sometimes people are trapped in their homes or they cannot show their emotions. Like Michael has plants, hopefully people can find a source of freedom that makes them happy.
When he was taken to the labor camp, Michael was forced into a fenced property. He couldn’t leave; if he did he was told he would be shot. Being held against his will has made him truly unhappy. When he finally escaped, luckily he wasn’t killed, but “every mile or two there was a fence to remind him that he was a trespasser as well as a runaway” (97). Sadly, the land he lives off of is not his. Michael will jump over any fence to feel closer to the land and feel a sense of belonging in this world. Figuratively, when one jumps over a fence, it may seem like they are doing something wrong, but in reality, that person may be escaping a horror or standing up for what is right. Michael would rather be in danger of being captured than actually being held captive. Michael tells the doctor, “I always wanted to fly. I used to stretch out my arms and think I was flying over the fences and between the houses” (133). This imagination tells the reader that Michael has always been captive, even in his school or institution. He was never free and he never saw the land bordered by a fence as a safe place.
In the novel, Michael comes across many borders in the form of barbed-wire fences. Most of these fences on farms are meant to keep people out, but in the camps, the fences are meant to keep people in. The first distinct time readers encounter a border is when Michael climbs over a barbed-wire fence into an apple orchard where, “worm-eaten fruit lay everywhere underfoot; the fruit on the branches was undersized and infested” (39). Michael learns here that he will actually eat this infested fruit in order to survive, meaning that he will do anything to be a part of this earth. Michael is constantly saying that he is a gardener. He learns that whoever owns this land is not taking care of the orchard and the plant life is dying. Michael finds life in this death and is able to satisfy his hunger. He also instills in himself a stronger connection with the land and the value of plants, making this need to cross any fence to find the purpose of life in the land.
Even the house on the farm where his mother grew up is a fence in itself. Inside is desolate and he only finds comfort when he sleeps in the kitchen because there is a hole in the ceiling and Michael can see the stars. Michael is so connected to the earth that he needs his freedom, away from fences in order to flourish. That is why he planted pumpkins near the river bank. But then, when he leaves and escapes to the mountains, Michael worries, “tomorrow will be their last day… the day after that they will wilt, and the day after that they will die” (65). He views these plants as his children. Even when he is up in the mountains, away from fencing, Michael still shows his concern for his pumpkins. He learns that even though he had to abandon his “children” in order to survive, he feels guilty. Living off the land, away from fences, Michael has started a life and he is now able to show his true emotions and feelings. Sometimes people are trapped in their homes or they cannot show their emotions. Like Michael has plants, hopefully people can find a source of freedom that makes them happy.
When he was taken to the labor camp, Michael was forced into a fenced property. He couldn’t leave; if he did he was told he would be shot. Being held against his will has made him truly unhappy. When he finally escaped, luckily he wasn’t killed, but “every mile or two there was a fence to remind him that he was a trespasser as well as a runaway” (97). Sadly, the land he lives off of is not his. Michael will jump over any fence to feel closer to the land and feel a sense of belonging in this world. Figuratively, when one jumps over a fence, it may seem like they are doing something wrong, but in reality, that person may be escaping a horror or standing up for what is right. Michael would rather be in danger of being captured than actually being held captive. Michael tells the doctor, “I always wanted to fly. I used to stretch out my arms and think I was flying over the fences and between the houses” (133). This imagination tells the reader that Michael has always been captive, even in his school or institution. He was never free and he never saw the land bordered by a fence as a safe place.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Waiting for the Barbarians
The barbarians are going to come, causing chaos and destroying the land, but aren’t the civilized people doing just that to the barbarians when they torture them? The barbarians in J. M. Coetzee’s Waiting for the Barbarians are portrayed and treated as if they are below the status or level of animals. When the Magistrate finally realizes this, after listening to stories and witnessing the scars on the barbarian girl’s body, he stands up for them and the people in the town think he is crazy. Is the protagonist truly crazy for defying the laws and rules in his town or is he crazy for thinking the barbarians are “men?” Here is the problem the protagonist faces: is defending your morality the right thing to do or is the right thing to live life by the law?
According to the Empire, the protagonist is a barbarian. Readers can see that the Magistrate views the barbarians not as the enemy, but as human beings. On the other hand, the Magistrate sees the Empire as barbarians when he says, “if there is ever anyone in some remote future interested to know the way we lived, that in this farthest outpost of the Empire of light there existed one man who in his heart was not a barbarian” (120). This back and forth commotion on who the real barbarians are can act as a metaphor for problems not only in apartheid South Africa, but also in our society. The barbarians can stand for what is wrong in our society and the civilized can stand for what is right. This can also be vice versa, where the barbarians portray what is right and the civilized, what is wrong. It all depends on how a person is treated and how a person treats others.
According to the Empire, the protagonist is a barbarian. Readers can see that the Magistrate views the barbarians not as the enemy, but as human beings. On the other hand, the Magistrate sees the Empire as barbarians when he says, “if there is ever anyone in some remote future interested to know the way we lived, that in this farthest outpost of the Empire of light there existed one man who in his heart was not a barbarian” (120). This back and forth commotion on who the real barbarians are can act as a metaphor for problems not only in apartheid South Africa, but also in our society. The barbarians can stand for what is wrong in our society and the civilized can stand for what is right. This can also be vice versa, where the barbarians portray what is right and the civilized, what is wrong. It all depends on how a person is treated and how a person treats others.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Dusklands
What does it mean to be powerful? Does having power entitle someone to the highest respect? Is a powerful person the only one allowed to govern and decide upon rules or laws? Can someone who is powerless ever become the authority? According to J. M. Coetzee, in Dusklands, some who think they are powerful may in fact be powerless, while some who are perceived to be powerless, actually are in control. The reader can see that having power is puzzling because who we think has full control of a situation, in turn, is unstable or has no control. In today's society, one might say that each of us, as individuals, have an authority over our own lives. This might be true, but what about addiction? What about the soldiers who returned home from a war? Whatever they have been through is still replaying in their minds and bodies. A memory or a drug may in fact be controlling the individual and causing him or her to lose power over something simple or even completely take over his or her life.
In the first novella, "The Vietnam Project," for Eugene Dawn, the line between reality and the mind is blurred, causing Eugene to lose power over his life. Eugene has seen the effects of the war, and he actually carries them around with him in the form of photographs in his briefcase. Eugene cannot escape the reality of what psychological warfare has done. In fact, even though Eugene has not gone to war, it almost seems as if he is at war with himself. From the very beginning, all he wanted was Coetzee's respect. After work where he wants Coetzee's respect, Eugene goes home to a nagging wife, Marilyn. In reality, Marilyn just wanted to be a part of his life, but Eugene couldn't see that. When he finally decides to leave his wife and take his son to a motel, it appears that Eugene is taking control of the situation. It appears as if he now has the power. But then Eugene explains, "giving myself orders is a trick I often play on my habit of obedience... There is no doubt that contact with reality can be invigorating. I hope that firm and prolonged intercourse with reality, if I can manage it, will have a good effect on my character as well as my health, and perhaps even improve my writing" (36). Eugene is totally immersed by his need to please other people, even when he is the only adult and has the possibility to make his own decisions. I ponder the reason how, with this freedom and power, Eugene can make a decision to stab his son. But then I ask myself, in what right mind would a father stab his own son? This is proof that Eugene has lost control of his actions. All aspects of warfare made him crazy and powerless.
In the second novella, "The Narrative of Jacobus Coetzee," Jacobus learns that having power can easily turn into dependency on others who are powerless. In this novella, Jacobus describes his journeys surrounding the Hottentots. Hottentots move around following cattle. They are depicted to be less than the white man, but greater than the Bushmen. Bushmen are simply beasts. While Jacobus travels with his team of six Hottentots, he definitely lets them know he is in full command. Jacobus explains, "the success of the expedition had flowed from my own enterprise and exertions... They saw me as their father. They would have died without me" (64). Making all the plans and decisions, the Hottentots are powerless to Jacobus. Jacobus' state of power comes into question when he travels the land of the Greater Namaqua. Jacobus describes, "I realized that, sick with who knows what fever, I had fallen into the hands of callous thieves ignorant of the very rudiments of medicine, barbarians, children of nature whose hospitality I had only yesterday insulted" (76). Here he has lost control over his life. His Hottentots do not listen to him and Plaatje mocks him. In reality, Jacobus is now powerless among the Hottentots. But then there is Klawer, who still obeys Jacobus. To explain this, Jacobus says, "The habit of obedience is not easily broken" (88). If this is true, why does this only apply to Klawer and not the rest of the team? It is clear that when someone is in a state of power, the person is not entitled to the highest respect. Jacobus was treated poorly when the Hottentots took control and lost his power. On the other hand, Jacobus proves that the habit of authority is not easily broken when he embarks on his second journey back to show his power.
In the first novella, "The Vietnam Project," for Eugene Dawn, the line between reality and the mind is blurred, causing Eugene to lose power over his life. Eugene has seen the effects of the war, and he actually carries them around with him in the form of photographs in his briefcase. Eugene cannot escape the reality of what psychological warfare has done. In fact, even though Eugene has not gone to war, it almost seems as if he is at war with himself. From the very beginning, all he wanted was Coetzee's respect. After work where he wants Coetzee's respect, Eugene goes home to a nagging wife, Marilyn. In reality, Marilyn just wanted to be a part of his life, but Eugene couldn't see that. When he finally decides to leave his wife and take his son to a motel, it appears that Eugene is taking control of the situation. It appears as if he now has the power. But then Eugene explains, "giving myself orders is a trick I often play on my habit of obedience... There is no doubt that contact with reality can be invigorating. I hope that firm and prolonged intercourse with reality, if I can manage it, will have a good effect on my character as well as my health, and perhaps even improve my writing" (36). Eugene is totally immersed by his need to please other people, even when he is the only adult and has the possibility to make his own decisions. I ponder the reason how, with this freedom and power, Eugene can make a decision to stab his son. But then I ask myself, in what right mind would a father stab his own son? This is proof that Eugene has lost control of his actions. All aspects of warfare made him crazy and powerless.
In the second novella, "The Narrative of Jacobus Coetzee," Jacobus learns that having power can easily turn into dependency on others who are powerless. In this novella, Jacobus describes his journeys surrounding the Hottentots. Hottentots move around following cattle. They are depicted to be less than the white man, but greater than the Bushmen. Bushmen are simply beasts. While Jacobus travels with his team of six Hottentots, he definitely lets them know he is in full command. Jacobus explains, "the success of the expedition had flowed from my own enterprise and exertions... They saw me as their father. They would have died without me" (64). Making all the plans and decisions, the Hottentots are powerless to Jacobus. Jacobus' state of power comes into question when he travels the land of the Greater Namaqua. Jacobus describes, "I realized that, sick with who knows what fever, I had fallen into the hands of callous thieves ignorant of the very rudiments of medicine, barbarians, children of nature whose hospitality I had only yesterday insulted" (76). Here he has lost control over his life. His Hottentots do not listen to him and Plaatje mocks him. In reality, Jacobus is now powerless among the Hottentots. But then there is Klawer, who still obeys Jacobus. To explain this, Jacobus says, "The habit of obedience is not easily broken" (88). If this is true, why does this only apply to Klawer and not the rest of the team? It is clear that when someone is in a state of power, the person is not entitled to the highest respect. Jacobus was treated poorly when the Hottentots took control and lost his power. On the other hand, Jacobus proves that the habit of authority is not easily broken when he embarks on his second journey back to show his power.
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