18 December 2010

The Mayor, the Mellifluous Author, and their Models

Thomas Hardy’s The Mayor of Casterbridge, published in 1885, is an enlightening tale of folly and misfortune that depicts a bitter man vying for a better life for himself, while pushing aside those who wish to help him most. Hardy’s novel teems with complex characters, diction-crafted tone, and rich color symbolism: Michael Henchard’s negative personality is portrayed through an abundance of ruthless, selfish, and aggressive actions. Hardy’s thoughtful diction allows for drastic tone shifts, which enhance the imagery and feeling of the scene. Furthermore, the author’s use of abundant symbols constantly reflects a deeper significance, whether it be foreshadowing or character description. Thomas Hardy’s masterful application of characterization, diction, and symbolism create a vibrant literary tapestry while also presenting a complex story of love and loss.

First, Henchard is the main character of the story, and while he stands initially as the protagonist, he is also his own antagonist by selling his wife and infant child in a makeshift auction, possessing an obscene amount of hubris, and refusing to adopt an honest attitude. Michael first description of him tells the reader that Henchard’s gait is full of “a dogged and cynical indifference” (Hardy 5). Henchard is then described as “overbearing – even brilliantly quarrelsome” while he and Susan are eating furmity at a table inside a food booth (Hardy 10). Henchard’s first major fault of selling his kin is initiated by his desire for alcohol. His low self-esteem, loneliness, and a propensity to depression are the central forces that lead him to drink, for he is out of work and seemingly locked into a marriage he has no desire to participate in (Bump). Furthermore, his actions toward Susan and Elizabeth Jane are appalling, both before they are sold and after they have reunited with him 19 years later. While in the furmity tent, Henchard says, “I married at eighteen, like the fool that I was; and this is the consequence o’t,” proclaiming indirectly that Susan and his daughter mean nothing to him (Hardy 10; Bump). Later, as Henchard and Susan meet in the Roman-styled arena in Casterbridge, Henchard uses Susan as a scapegoat and asks her “how could you be so simple?...But – to lead me into this!” (Hardy 70). Through Michael Henchard’s foul and insulting treatment of Susan, he portrays himself as a belligerent, chauvinistic, and insecure child rather than as a sensible, mature adult (Bump).

Additionally, Henchard is portrayed by Hardy as a greedy man whose endeavors to acquire possessions are not limited to inanimate objects. In his marriage to Susan Newson, he requests of her and Elizabeth-Jane that the latter take his last name and formally be called “Miss Henchard” (Hardy 85). Henchard’s request turns into a forceful gesture, saying that he’ll “advertise it in the Casterbridge paper…She won’t object” (Hardy 85). Then, when Elizabeth-Jane asked him in sincerity of his request later in the day, he becomes like a petulant teen and insults her gender by saying, “what an ado you women make about a trifle!” (Hardy 85). Henchard’s desire for Elizabeth-Jane’s last name to be his reflects an unsettling idea of owning another individual, much akin to the concept of imprisonment through slavery. By taking Michael Henchard’s surname, Elizabeth-Jane binds herself to her step-father’s ownership of her name and physical person, and in so doing imprisons herself within the jail of his verbal and emotional abuse (Asquith). Henchard, as depicted by Hardy, is a sullen, bitter pessimist whose unchecked, insulting comments and unwavering greed are his ultimate downfall.

Second, Hardy’s word choice is exceptionally accurate and allows for the scene being described to carry its own distinct tone and stand alone as a singular, memorable instance. Following Susan Henchard’s death, Michael Henchard opens a letter addressed to him to be opened on Elizabeth-Jane’s wedding day. In opening this sealed envelope prematurely, he discovers that the Elizabeth-Jane who sleeps in his home presently is not, in fact, his daughter, but Newson’s: a second Elizabeth-Jane to replace the first who had died three weeks after being sold with her mother. As Henchard approaches his step-daughter’s door, Hardy begins a sequence of descriptions characterized by choice words, which all hold negative connotations (Carroll). He first begins with words such as “dead,” “overwhelms,” “misery,” and “sinister” to create an ominous tone for the scene (Hardy 119). These words reflect Henchard’s feelings exactly: he has been lied to by his now deceased wife and is now devoid of a biological daughter of his own. His remorse and anger of his wife’s death now mingles with his biological daughter’s loss; Hardy reflects Henchard’s emotions even further in the text with words like “impish trick,” “infernal harpies,” and “sullen” which parallel his anger at being tricked for 19 years (Hardy 119).

Furthermore, Hardy’s description of the witch-like Elizabeth-Jane kneeling before the fire is particularly haunting, and his word choice specifically centers on words that contain sharp “s” and hard “c” sounds. Words such as “lothness,” “passion,” “desire,” and “spark” contain an intense and sensual cadence when linked together so closely and mirror the hiss of a fire, while the “p” sound in “passion” and “spark” simulate the popping sound of over stimulated bits of log (Hardy 161). Hardy also uses words like “depicted” and “contour,” to simulate the hard crackling sound of fire consuming raw wood (Hardy 161). He ends with calling Elizabeth-Jane a “discerning silent witch”; this description contains the “s” of hissing flames and another noise: that of a final snapping sound made by the sharp sound of the “t” in words “silent” and “witch” (Hardy 161). Coincidentally, Elizabeth could be said to “snap” out of her reverie immediately following these words as Lucetta interrupts her fireside witchcraft (Tassone).

Finally, Hardy’s genius use of symbolism is apparent is his portrayal of the bull which charges toward Elizabeth-Jane and Lucetta while they walk in the countryside. The bull is outwardly described as “disfigured at present by splotches of mud about his seamy sides…gristle [on] his nose,” and as bulls are large animals, the reader can safely assume that this bull is of a large size (Hardy 192). Hardy then goes on to describe the bull’s temperament: “the bull was an old one, too savage to be driven, which had in some way escaped the staff being the means by which the drover controlled him” and then “the bull advanced in a deliberate charge” (Hardy 192). The bull, closely resembling Michael Henchard in size and disposition, is charging upon these women just as Henchard aggressively attacks them with commands and insults (Carroll). Henchard is a large man, whose insides are disfigured by greed, pride, and malice. Ironically enough, it is Henchard who saves Lucetta and Elizabeth-Jane from his own animal equal.

Lastly, following Henchard’s meeting with and dismissal of Richard Newson, he ventures to the stone bridge where he often lingers. After taking off his coat and cap and presenting himself to the prospect of death, he looks below into the river: “and then he perceived with a sense of horror that it was himself” (Hardy 273). In seeing a reflection of himself floating in the water, Henchard sees his past. Henchard’s effigy in the river is symbolic of his past persona, which has been abandoned by him in favor of a softer one. Henchard, realizing that the figure in the river is an exact duplicate of himself, is moved to ask Elizabeth, “Are miracles still worked, do ye think, Elizabeth?” (Hardy 274). His question to Elizabeth has a double meaning: has he been saved from drowning himself by the fear of his own reflection in the river, and will he be saved from living out the rest of his life in bitterness? (Asquith).

The exterior of Hardy’s novel presents readers with a plot that is similar to a rollercoaster: twisted, complicated, and exhilarating. However, the interior presents a much more fascinating adventure: Hardy’s characters are rich with humanity; his words are precisely chosen; his symbolism is clever and accurate. The Mayor of Casterbridge is a strong and gripping example of skillful writing and intricate design, and through its vibrant characters, diction, and symbolism, it becomes a well-rounded and invigorating example of Victorian literature.





Works Cited

Asquith, Mark. "Caged birds: Mark Asquith explores self-knowledge in The Mayor of Casterbridge."The English Review Apr. 2004: 8+. Academic OneFile. Web. 19 Nov. 2010.

Bump, Jerome. "The family dynamics of the reception of art." Style Summer 1997: 328+. Academic OneFile. Web. 23 Nov. 2010.

Carroll, Joseph, et al. "Quantifying tonal analysis in The Mayor of Casterbridge."
Style Spring-Summer 2010: 164+. Academic OneFile. Web. 23 Nov. 2010.

Hardy, Thomas. The Mayor of Casterbridge. Ed. Phillip Lopate. New York: Barnes & Noble Classics, 2004. Print.

Tassone, Marlena. “Thomas Hardy's The Mayor of Casterbridge As an Aristotelian Tragedy.” The Victorian Web. 2006. Web. 21 Nov. 2010.

Image:
'Hay-trussing — ?' said the turnip-hoer, who had already begun shaking his head. 'o no.'" by Robert Barnes. Plate 1, Thomas Hardy's The Mayor of Casterbridge, which appeared in The Graphic, 2 January 1886. Scanned image and text by Philip V. Allingham.


(1 December 2010)

Comparisons in Literary Genius: M. Shelley, Wordsworth, and Coleridge

Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, published anonymously in 1818, was originally thought to have been written by a man, however even though it is in fact written by one of the most talented female authors in history, the novel’s material parallels the work of Mary Shelley’s male literary peers: William Wordsworth and Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Frankenstein, bursting with romanticist themes closely mirrors Wordsworth’s “Tintern Abbey” and Coleridge’s “Kubla Khan” and “Rime of the Ancient Mariner.” Together, these three poems hold the foundations for Mary Shelley’s tale of man versus nature by influencing the novelist with themes of solitude, dream interpretation, and reverence for nature.

First, in Chapter X of Frankenstein, Victor spends the day roaming through the valley near the city of Chamounix and, deciding to climb to the summit of Montanvert, says, “I remembered the effect that the view of the tremendous and ever moving glacier had produced upon my mind when I first saw it. […] The sight of the awful and majestic in nature had indeed always the effect of solemnising my mind, and causing me to forget the passing cares of life” (Shelley 95). This passage, when compared to Wordsworth’s “Tintern Abbey,” directly mirrors the beginning of the poem’s second stanza:

These beauteous forms,
Through a long absence, have not been to me
As is a landscape to a blind man’s eye:
But oft, in lonely rooms, and ‘mid the din
Of towns and cities, I have owed them
In hours of weariness, sensations sweet,
Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart;
(Wordsworth lines 22-28)

Shelley’s illustration of Victor parallels with the speaker in Wordsworth’s poem. Both men speak of their first moments with the landscape: Victor remembers the emotions that the view of the glacier produced when he was younger, and Wordsworth’s speaker affirms that he indeed remembers his surroundings from earlier years. Furthermore, both men attribute relaxing memories to their experiences in these two solitary places, proclaiming how they are thankful that the memory of nature has pacified their minds in their separate and private times of emotional fragility.

Equally powerful is Shelley’s reference to “Tintern Abbey,” which describes Clerval’s love for nature and positive disposition: “The sounding cataract / Haunted him like a passion: […] Their colors and their forms, were then to him / An appetite; a feeling, and a love, / That had no need of a remoter charm” (Shelley 156; Wordsworth lines 76-81). Through this passage, Clerval is presented as a man who enjoys the simplicities of nature, and breathes them in with the fervor of a young boy. The romanticist notion of love of nature is manifest within Clerval, and he therefore stands opposite to Victor who represents the misuse of science.

Second, Shelley’s novel draws on themes of dreams and the subconscious mind which are seen in Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s poem “Kubla Khan.” Coleridge’s poem, a dream itself, describes a “lifeless ocean” where voices can be heard “prophesying war!” (Coleridge lines 28, 30). Comparably, in Frankenstein, following the successful reanimation of the creature, Victor falls into a sleep: “I slept, indeed, but I was disturbed by the wildest dreams. I thought I saw Elizabeth […] I embraced her; but her features appeared to change, and I thought that I held the corpse of my dead mother in my arms” (Shelley 55-56). In addition to this startling image, he also dreams that Elizabeth’s lips turn the “hue of death” and sees “the grave worms crawling in the folds of the flannel” (Shelley 56). Victor’s dream can be seen as a “lifeless ocean” where waves of images of his lover and mother morph into horrific images of death. These haunting episodes also represent the subconscious warning that Victor feels as a result of his attempted mastery of nature. Victor’s dream foretells of the war which is to come between the creature and Victor, which unfortunately includes the deaths of Victor’s family.

Additionally, the moment Victor awakens to the reality that he has created a monster, he describes him as having “dull yellow” eyes and “lustrous black” hair (Shelley 55). This passage, juxtaposed with Coleridge’s “Kubla Khan” shows a parallel between the creature and a male figure in the poem: “His flashing eyes! His floating hair!” (Coleridge 50). Both figures represent something abhorred and frightening, for Victor immediately runs from his helpless creation, and the lines “Beware! Beware!” are found just before the physical description of the poetical male figure (Coleridge 49).

Finally, Coleridge’s masterpiece, “Rime of the Ancient Mariner” holds countless parallels to Shelley’s Frankenstein, and carries with it a moral message discouraging attempts at dominating nature. Even before Robert Walton encounters Victor Frankenstein, he makes reference to Coleridge’s poem: “I am going to unexplored regions, to ‘the land of mist and snow;’ but I shall kill no albatross, therefore do not be alarmed for my safety, or if I should come back to you as worn and woeful as the ‘Ancient Mariner?’” (Shelley 16-17). Coincidentally, Walton mentions being a mariner just before Victor, the parallel to the Mariner, is seen in the ice below. This mirror image between the Mariner and Victor Frankenstein is seen on page 57 as Victor wanders blindly through the streets of Ingolstadt. Shelley inserts a piece of Coleridge’s poem to draw attention to their similarities to each other:

Like one that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turned round walks on,
And turns no more his head;
Because he knows a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread.
(Shelley 57; Coleridge lines 447-452)

Shelley identifies Victor with the Mariner; Victor has attempted to master nature by creating an abomination that has no equal in nature, and the Mariner has slain an innocent animal that posed no threat to himself or his crew. Consequently, both men are sought by a fiend, which is in both cases the guilt of an unforgivable act. Victor is running from his unnatural creation, and the Mariner is unable to escape his murder of the albatross.

Lastly, after Victor has vehemently urged captain and crew to push onward, Walton reports, “The die is cast; I have consented to return if we are not destroyed” (Shelley 212). Coleridge’s “Rime of the Ancient Mariner” depicts Death and Life-In-Death casting die for the life of the Mariner. Life-In-Death wins the match, and the Mariner is forced to live in anguish and bear the burden of his sins rather than die and escape his guilt. Similarly, Walton has “cast” his die and chosen to return home and therefore save the lives of his crew and himself; however, he faces the torture of Life-In-Death, for he must endure the failure of his own ambitions.

Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, influenced by Wordsworth’s and Coleridge’s individual poetical works proves to be a long-lasting testament to romanticism, drawing on elements of solitude, subconscious influences, and the power of nature. Through the influence of these two poets, Mary Shelley’s novel becomes more than a work of fiction; it stands by itself as a powerful commentary on the nature of the human race, not only by reestablishing moral codes, but by exemplifying the need for self-awareness and natural law.


(25 October 2010)

14 December 2010

A Testament to Innocence

In Percy Bysshe Shelley’s poem, “To William Shelley,” the poet expresses his grief over the death of his son through the use of powerful diction, strong symbolism, and universal theme. It is through Shelley’s grief that he produces such a powerful tribute to the memory of his deceased three and half year old boy.

First, Shelley’s choice and use of positive words juxtaposed with negative words creates a foil between the two groups, further helping to highlight William’s former innocence and the speaker’s grief directed at the death of William. Shelley uses words such as “bright spirit,” “luster,” and “divine,” to describe William’s soul and disposition (2, 4, 7). The word “bright” immediately conjures up images of the sun, a symbol for a new day and hope for rebirth. William’s “bright spirit” held hope for the speaker’s admiration of innocence, and with the death of William, the speaker’s optimism towards innocence expires. “Lustre” in line 4 is usually paired with an image of an item which sparkles with beauty, much like the “bright spirit” of William Shelley (2). The speaker’s comparison of his son to a “divine” being appears in line 7, which signifies that William, in the eyes of his father and mother, is a creation which only God could have inspired. His status as beloved son is further represented in lines 8 through 9 when the speaker proclaims that William’s tomb should be a “shrine” to “thy mother’s grief and mine.” Shelley also articulates the sadness of his loss through the use of words like “ashes,” “tombs,” and “ruins” (5, 14). “Ashes,” being the remnants of burned matter, are gray to blackish in color. These colors bring about images of death in the reader’s mind and assist the poet in establishing a morose tone. The use of the word “tomb” mirrors the solidity of William’s death: it is concrete and certain. The “ruins” are parallel to the ruins that the speaker’s emotions are in after the death of his son; they are a heap of jumbled thoughts and feelings.

Second, it is through Shelley’s diction choice that we see the symbolism for innocence and death break though to the surface. The “tombs and ruins” symbolize the certainty of death as suffered by William (14). They also signify the darkness of death and the darkness that the surviving family must endure after the passing of a loved one. However, Shelley uses symbolic images such as “flowers” and “sunny grass,” which represent pureness and innocence, two traits that William Shelley possessed as a three year old child. Furthermore, the abrupt ending, either intentional or unintentional, suggests to the reader the unfinished life of William Shelley and its unexpected conclusion.

Finally, the theme that the poem possesses is the loss of innocence to an earthly corruption: death. Death deprives us of naiveté and innocence of the world around us; death presents to us the horror and sorrow of disease and the effects thereafter. It is through death that each human becomes another man’s equal and becomes once again part of the earth. William becomes the equal of all of Earth’s deceased individuals through his death and loss of innocence. The speaker says, “Let me think that thy spirit feeds, / With its life intense and mild, / The love of living leaves and weeds,” meaning that he hopes some part of William will become the nature he is surrounded by (11-13). Shelley, being a Romanticist, honored and respected nature; it is no surprise that he hoped to see some of William in the greenery which surrounded him.

Percy Shelley’s short ode to his deceased son is a tribute not only to William Shelley, but to every other young child who has fallen into the hands of death and had their innocence taken away from them. Through strong word choice, well-placed symbolism, and common human theme, Shelley creates a strong and heartfelt testament to innocence and its unfortunate but inevitable death.

13 December 2010

Humility and Hubris, Self and Other: A Brief Study of Romantic and Victorian Poetry

Both equally beautiful in message and style, Romantic poetry and Victorian poetry stand as moving pieces of literature and immortal testaments to the genius of their writers. However, both vastly differ from each other in their specific content and structure. While Romantic poetry focuses on humbleness and self-reflection, Victorian poetry addresses pride and the broader subject of humanity. Additionally, the structure of both types of poetry differs greatly: punctuation usage and placement becomes an overwhelming identifier of both types of verse. Romantic and Victorian poetry highlight each other by their differing topics of hubris and the state of man, and their intensely opposite structure.

First, the subject of humility is brought forth in William Wordsworth’s poem, “The world is too much with us” and Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s poem, “Ulysses.” Wordsworth’s speaker states that “Little we see in Nature that is ours,” meaning that humans forget their place in nature and the gifts which nature offers; the speaker goes on to say that “we are out of tune,” suggesting that humans are forgetful and sometimes willfully ignorant of nature’s power (Wordsworth 3). In Tennyson’s “Ulysses,” the speaker, who announces himself as a leader, rivals Wordsworth’s humility and openly states that his “purpose holds / to sail beyond the sunset, and the baths / Of all the western stars” (Tennyson 60-61). This declaration presents a challenge against nature to sail beyond what nature consists of and has made. The idea of man roaming farther than the “sunset” and the “stars” embodies human pride and suggests man overcoming nature by discovery. Furthermore, the mighty speaker concludes by saying “that which we are, we are […] Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will / to strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield” (Tennyson 67-70). This bold finale represents man’s desire to remain steadfast, but headstrong in his mission to overcome that which is mightier than he.

Second, the ideas of the “self” and humanity are represented in Coleridge’s “Kubla Khan” and Tennyson’s “Ulysses.” “Kubla Khan,” by itself, represents the innermost thoughts and feelings of a single individual; its origins stem from a dream Coleridge experienced. It stands alone as a piece of writing which is representative of the individual self because of its deeply personal material. In the text, the speaker presents Kubla Khan’s design, a wondrous “deep romantic chasm which slanted / Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!” (Coleridge 12-13). Kubla Khan’s creation is a manifestation of his personal, intimate desires, and he is surrounded by his own images of what he considers beautiful: the moon, water, and gardens. Conversely, the speaker in Ulysses addresses his “mariners” from the beginning, encouraging them to “seek a newer world” and to “smite the sounding furrows” (Tennyson 45, 57-59). His public plea for his fellow “souls that have toil’d, and wrought, and thought” with him presents a proposal to humanity at large, including the reader, to go forth, conquer, and discover the world outside oneself (Tennyson 46).

Last, the differing punctuation displayed in Romantic and Victorian poetry is clearly seen in Coleridge’s “Kubla Khan” and Robert Browning’s “My Last Duchess.” Coleridge’s piece is a steady flow of sentences; nearly every punctuation mark arrives at the end of a line, whether it is a comma, semicolon, or exclamation point. Its consistent rhythm is a result of ritualistic punctuation placement, a trait which other Romantic poems have in common, including Wordsworth’s “The world is too much with us.” For example, lines 17, 19, 20, 22, and 23 in “Kubla Khan” are all without punctuation until the end of the line. Also, in “The world…”, lines 5, 6, 7, 12, and 13 share the same style of a consistent end-of-line punctuation mark. In contrast, the Victorian piece, “My Last Duchess,” contains countless lines which are bisected by the interruption of commas, exclamation points, colons, and dashes. The speaker says that “She thanked men – good! but thanked / Somehow – I know not how – as if she ranked / My gift of a nine-hundred-years-old name / With anybody’s gift” (Browning 31-34). This excerpt begins in the middle of a line and also ends in the middle of a line, interrupting the flow of a thought and concluding with another through the use of sporadic punctuation.

Wordsworth and Coleridge’s Romantic poetry offers a humble, inward-thinking, and smooth approach to poetry while Tennyson and Robert Browning’s Victorian styling proposes a proud, all-encompassing, and energetic display of verse. Through differing topics and styles, all four authors achieve the coveted feat of successfully appealing to a wide range of audiences, and in doing so, allow their readers to come to an understanding with themselves and their fellow human beings.

12 December 2010

"I hear there's money in Women.": Women and Economics in The Travels of Marco Polo

Throughout history, women have been seen as weak, unintelligent, and unimportant. A majority of the world’s cultures today have a history of viewing women as inferior, and have forced females to suffer the curse of living in a chauvinistic, male dominated world. However, Marco Polo’s book, The Travels of Marco Polo, presents a new view of women centered in 13th century Asia: as powerful, economic staples to a culture dominated by masculine rules and views. Although most women in the book are not given a choice in the outcomes of their own lives, they stand as vital and influential symbols of the significant power that the presence of females holds over a society which is superficially dominated by males. Through their roles as status elevation tools, items of trade, and regional advertisements, the women in The Travels of Marco Polo become a crucial item with which the culture of Asia is dependent upon.

First, Polo presents the reader with the wives of the Tartars, who are “allowed as many wives as they want” (Polo 77; Signet). The expense of having each additional wife is not costly because “the benefit [the husband] derives from their training and the work they do is considerable” (Polo 77; Signet). Here, a man’s wife elevates his position in society by increasing his output of materials and services, which in turn increases his monetary gain. His possession of these women also prevents him from being forced to hire servants to complete tasks. Increased profit and decreased spending results in the husband amassing a hoard of wealth. Since social status is determined by wealth and personal possession, in this case money and women, the husband has the high potential to be seen as successful by his peers and superiors, and may begin to be included in social circles where his status is elevated. Furthermore, because he has a larger amount of money available to him, he has the ability to purchase land and thus increase his position in society.

Another example of women as a status elevation tool is seen in an area of Cathay, where women are taken in exchange for political office. Polo writes of Lord Lieutenant Achmat, “a shrewd and able man,” who promises a man “a post or office for three years” in exchange for his daughter’s hand in marriage (Polo 113; Signet). The interest in a man’s daughter is the initial spark for the bargain, and following Achmat’s promise of office and the father’s acquiescence, his daughter is taken away and the deal is solidified. In addition to the evident rise from plebeian to patrician, he is given special privileges as a result of his crooked dealings. By exchanging his daughter for a political position, the man is promised at least three years of paid work, which allows him to climb the social ladder and make connections with important men he might not have otherwise had the chance to meet.

Second, women are used as a commodity in Polo’s book as political prizes and items for trade. Preceding the battle between Genghis Kahn and Prester John, the Khan writes a letter to Prester John “demanding his daughter in marriage” (Polo 73; Signet). Prester John reacts negatively to this bold request and declares war, which ultimately results in his own death and his daughter’s marriage to Genghis Khan. Through Prester John’s defeat in the battle, his daughter is taken as a spoil of war, as if she were a fine painting or a prized horse. Additionally, Kublai Khan “always” offers his daughters in marriage “to [King George] and other princes of his home” (Polo 86; Signet). Since a portion of the territory of Tenduk is bound in service to the Khan, and because the Khan is also bound in an agreement of military protection towards Tenduk, the Khan must keep favorable relations open between himself and King George. If a disagreement sparks between them, the Khan may lose the service of Tenduk, and the inhabitants of Tenduk may lose the protection of the emperor. Kublai Khan’s daughters are given to George and his court in exchange for peace between the two kingdoms: the Khan uses these girls as political safety nets to ensure his control over his fiefdom.

Furthermore, in the city of Sinju, Polo writes of men who are “much addicted to sexual indulgence” and “are free to take as many [wives] as they wish and as they can afford to keep” (Polo 105; Penguin). However, in exchange for these wives, they must pay a “rather large sum of money” to their mothers, which agreed upon by both parties; only after this fee is paid to the mother is the man allowed to leave with his new wife. In this exchange of specie for a human being, the daughter is represented as an object of trade rather than as an in individual, and is sold off like a chicken or a goat. By using her daughter as a commodity, the mother frees herself of the burden of caring for a child and gains a substantial amount of money with which she may spend on household items, clothing, or livestock. In doing so, she contributes to the economy of her village and increases the circulation of specie.

Finally, the most important and common role of women in Polo’s book is that of regional advertisement. Throughout Polo’s account of his travels, he writes of the beauty of women, the favors they offer to travelers, and the prostitutes who offer their services to the rich and the poor. All of these assist in bolstering a positive trade connection between the Eastern regions he speaks of and Western Europe.

In Polo’s account of the province of Timochain and of the province of Kesmur, the women in both regions are described as being very “beautiful,” and Polo goes so far as to say that the women in Timochain are “the most beautiful in the world” (Polo 46, 55; Signet). The attractiveness of these women as described by Polo creates an ad for the region within the confines of a traveler’s handbook, and allows the traveler to know where to go for the most beautiful women in the world. His venture there, besides being a hunt for attractive females, may also become an economic opportunity for both cultures, for while he is there, he will need food and shelter and possibly transportation.

Moreover, women provide advertisement for the region of Tibet through their voluntary premarital sex with travelers. In Tibetan culture, a woman is considered more desirable if she has had numerous sexual partners before her marriage. Therefore, “upon the arrival of a caravan of merchants” each daughter is taken by her mother to the strangers in the caravan and is offered up to them for one night (Polo 153; Signet). However, it is encouraged that each traveler bestow “trinkets, rings, or other tokens of their regard” to the girl in exchange for her services. Upon the girls’ return to their village, whichever young lady is most adorned from the previous night has the best chance for being chosen by a man of her village for marriage. This custom of offering young girls to travelers is a highly motivating invitation for travel to the Tibetan region, and Polo even goes on to say that “Obviously, the country is a fine one to visit for a lad from sixteen to twenty-four” (Polo 173; Penguin). The tale of this practice mixed with Polo’s encouragement to travel to Tibet makes this a bold and highly appealing advertisement. Along with marketing the region through local culture, these women and their daughters are opening up potential trade relations between traders from western Europe and merchants from their home villages.

Lastly, Prostitutes are a primary source of advertisement in The Travels of Marco Polo. In the city of Taidu, Polo writes that there are over 20,000 “women of the world” living in the suburbs who have a “captain general” who is responsible for hundreds to thousands of prostitutes (Polo 129; Penguin). When ambassadors travel to Kublai Khan’s city, the captain general chooses a number of women and takes them to the Khan’s palace. These women, when under the service of the Khan, are rotated nightly from man to man and are not given payment except for the protection of the Khan. Polo notes that “from the number of these prostitutes you may infer the number of traders…who are daily coming and going here” (Polo 130; Penguin). Regardless of which social class the reader belongs to, they are immediately enticed to visit the region. If they are an aristocratic ambassador they will meet with a prostitute free of charge; if they are a travelling merchant, they might find themselves in a brothel in the suburbs of Taidu. Either way, travelers visiting the region are likely to be seduced by these sexual advertisements, and in addition, may find themselves trading with local merchants.

Although the objectification of women in these instances is initially negative, the power they have over trade and the Eastern economy is highly significant. Without the use of women as status elevation tools, trade items, and sexual publicity, the economy in the areas Polo explored would have fallen to ruin because of a lack of reputation and wealth increases, controllable human goods, and physically appealing advertisements. It is ironic that a culture and economy so dominated by the male sex is reliant upon the females whom they exploit and trade. Perhaps Polo’s accounts can assist today’s societies in identifying the female sex as a once crucial role in Asia’s economy, and therefore allow for a deeper respect for women and the important roles they play in today’s society: not as objects of trade, but as people of power and purpose.





Works Cited

Polo, Marco. The Travels of Marco Polo. Ed. Milton Rugoff. New York, NY: Signet Classics, 2004. Print.

Polo, Marco. The Travels of Marco Polo. Ed. R. E. Latham. London, England: Penguin, 1958. Print.

06 December 2010

'Dough,' Disease, and Death: The Results of a Pestilence on a Medieval Economy

'Dough,' Disease, and Death:
The Results of a Pestilence on a Medieval Economy
By Ashleigh Gardner, 2010

The horrific outbreak of plague in Europe during the early part of the 14th century posed a near impossible challenge to those alive during and after the pestilence ravaged the continent: to reconstruct the economy of Western Europe while still remaining self-sufficient. Prior to the plague known as “The Great Death” or “The Black Plague,” northern Europe suffered from a catastrophic famine in 1316, which was primarily caused by the most uncontrollable factor in nature: the weather. Around 1280, the population of Europe hit a “demographic ceiling” and the continent was brimming with hungry, poor, and unhappy inhabitants (Epstein 161). With the advent of new farming practices from the previous century, larger areas of land were being utilized for farming because of the rising population, and this created a shortage of nutrient rich soil. Thirty-five years later, in 1315, the year suffered from a rainy summer and a subsequent brutal winter, which resulted in muddy fields and soil erosion, thus causing the over-cultivated soil to become infertile and crops to die. The famine deprived Europe of its basic necessity – food – and the population suddenly declined as a result of both starvation and the looming pestilence. Because of the lack of nourishment, many underfed and sickly children of this era would find themselves the primary victims of the plague in later years (Epstein 165).

Consequently, trade in northern Europe was greatly influenced by the disaster. The destruction of one third of Europe’s population transformed the European economy from one that lacked the goods to accommodate its enormous population, to one that nearly overflowed with resources. The Great Hunger of 1316 plays a vital role in the economy prior to plague-stricken Europe, and should therefore be touched upon before delving into the economic factors which were directly influenced by the Black Death: inheritance of estates, psychological and need based spending, and new methods of business.

Northern Europe’s famine, as has been stated, was chiefly caused by a harsh coupling of weather patterns during the year preceding the food shortage. As a result of poor farming conditions, food was scarce and provided for fewer products for sale at local markets. This lack of desired goods resulted in less profit for the merchant’s business and less income for his family and himself. In addition to a shortage of food, cattle were also in short supply following an outbreak of what is thought to be rinderpest, an infectious viral disease of livestock that spreads rapidly and is ultimately fatal (Epstein 161). Therefore, without a substantial amount of cattle, farmers had fewer livestock to sell at market; also, the products of cows, such as milk, cheese, and meat, were made scarce through the deaths of these valuable animals. Additionally, the loss of oxen was “catastrophic for open-field plowing and for transportation,” Epstein says, regarding the outbreak of rinderpest (161). Without oxen, farmers lost time and productivity in plowing and planting their fields, and even lacked a strong and reliable motor for their wagons which they used to transport goods to market.

Southern nations who had been spared the harsh season were prospering when compared to northern Europe, and were unable to provide assistance because of two central reasons: transportation costs and over-population of the southern nations (Epstein 162). First, the amount of money it would cost to transport goods from the Mediterranean area to the inner areas of England would be greater than the profit those merchants would gain as a result of their trek Westward. The cost of transporting goods so far was astronomically high, and therefore was not worth the risk. Second, the south was also suffering from hitting the “demographic ceiling,” and therefore could only produce the amount of food which was demanded of it by its citizens and its citizens only (Epstein 162).

Modern scholars provide a variety of explanations on how the plague came to Western Europe, including the popular flea-carrying rodent theory and the theory that a Tartar commander catapulted plague-infected bodies over the walls of Caffa, a Genoese city. However, of the two, the idea that rats carried fleas with the disease is the most popular (Snell). The spread of the Black Plague can be attributed to something as simple as trade. During the 14th century, it was common for these flea-carrying rats to find their way onto ships used for international commerce. As ships were unloaded onto docks in places such as France and England, the rats and fleas were released into a world where the disease they carried had never been experienced before (Snell). Since the illness was an entirely new strain of bacteria and had never been encountered by the general population of Europe prior to its sudden introduction, it struck rapidly and with great force, slaughtering one third of Europe’s population (Snell). The children whose immune systems were weakened by the famine of 1316 were now adults, and now represented the work force of the north; the economy still suffered from overpopulation and a shortage of goods (Epstein 165).

The exact year that the plague entered the north is difficult to place, for different sections of northern Europe were affected during different years; but January of 1348 is an approximate date for the arrival of the Black Death in England, Italy, and southern France (Epstein 169: map “Big Death”). After the outbreak of plague in northern Europe, the previously mentioned economic factors of inheritance, increased spending, and transformed business began to slowly churn the markets of England, Italy, and France.

First, inheritance of money and large tracts of land was a direct result of the Black Death. Although the plague killed one third of the population, it still left the physical capital of those individuals intact (Epstein 170). Furniture, clothing, books, treasure, homes, and even farm animals still remained after the deaths of their owners. Therefore, these items were then transferred to the next of kin, or to whoever would be fortunate enough to have fallen into a situation where they might possess it, whether through a friendship or an auction. Marchione di Coppo Stefani recounts the appearance of heirs to large fortunes in his account of the plague in Florence in 1348: “Then those who would inherit these goods began to appear. And such it was that those who had nothing found themselves rich with what did not seem to be theirs…” (Coppo Stefani 72) These individuals, coming from little no to wealth at all, found themselves holding a substantial amount of wealth, and at the same time, were questioned by others and about the origins and the rightfulness of their ownership.

With the multitude of inheritances, Northern Europe saw an increase in spending in local markets, and merchants found that their products were earning more profit as a result of increased buying. Increase in personal wealth also allowed them to perhaps establish their own business from the funds left to them by their predecessor, and then make their way into the market as a merchant instead of simply a seller. Epstein points out that this period was “one of the greatest periods of wealth transfer in human history” (Epstein 170) He makes a fabulous point: in the entire history of humans, only two other periods can even come marginally close to the amount of capital transferred from one person to another through death; World War II resulted in over 63 million deaths, and the Rule of Genghis Khan resulted in an estimated 40 million deaths (White).

Second, psychological and need based spending was a significant after effect of the plague. Due to a rise in what is now termed as “post traumatic stress disorder,” survivors of the plague experienced feelings of guilt, loneliness, and anger; one short term remedy for these feelings lies in the consumption of alcohol in large quantities (Epstein 179). People who were stressed or burdened with the fact that they had survived the plague and their families had not, took to drinking, which meant that these individuals had to procure payment in order to receive beer with which to drown their sorrows. Similarly, wine emerged as a necessary super drink of the plague-stricken European economy. “Best against the pestilence,” rhymed Italian professor and doctor Gentile da Foligno. He proclaimed that “white wine, preferably, old, light, and aromatic, mixed with water” was the best tool to combat the fierce disease (Kelly 173). Foligno’s advertising only strengthened the belief of alcoholics and melancholic survivors that wine was a sure chance against the Black Death and emotional suffering.

Furthermore, apothecaries were overrun with business as people were continually told that pastes, herbs, and pills would ward off or even cure the disease (Coppo Stefani 73). These people bought out of both a psychological and physical need. They believed mentally that these items would help them avoid the pestilence, and they also believed that their bodies needed to take in these supplements in order to survive. Materials that were sold by these medieval medicine men were “mallow, nettles, [and] mercury” and also “pills of aloe, myrrh, and saffron” (Coppo Stefani 73; Kelly 173). Coppo Stefani even says that because of an extensive amount of advertising by apothecaries and their apprentices, “it was those who made these poultices who made a lot of money” and ultimately profited because of a fear of death (Coppo Stefani 73).

Additionally, items for funerals were also needed in great quantities, such as coffins for the deceased and funeral robes for the living. As the death toll rose by the hundreds each day, the call for coffins for the wealthy increased. Since the upper class was also hit hard by the plague, they used their wealth and position in society to their advantage and bought coffins for their very recently deceased loved ones (Kelly 175). The purchase of handcrafted goods helped increase the circulation of money in the economy of northern Europe, and allowed for merchants to buy more supplies and thus craft more coffins, which were hardly going out of style. Funeral clothing was also necessary because of the high rate of death. Coppo Stefani shares his account of the need for women’s clothing and the price gauging which took place because of that specific need:

Dressing in expensive woolen cloth as is customary in [mourning] the dead, that in a long cloak, with mantle and veil that used to cost women three florins climbed to thirty florins and would have climbed to one hundred florins had the custom of dressing in expensive cloth not been changed. The rich dressed in modest woolens, those not rich sewed [clothes] in linen(72).

His knowledge of the economy of the time provides insight into the daily dealings of merchants in Italy, and if a market trend in ladies’ clothing were indeed occurring throughout the rest of Western Europe, that trend would then show today’s economists that price gouging during a crisis is not so foreign; the economic fears of today closely mirror those of seven centuries ago.

Lastly in this section, the broad need for particular types of food is represented in the prices of eggs and sugar. Depending on where they were sold and who they were sold by, eggs were priced at twelve to twenty-four pence each in 1348 (Coppo Stefani 71). If inflation is accounted for, then today, the price of one egg would be £18.60 in England, or roughly $24 in America (“Measuring Worth”). Additionally, sugar was also highly valued and cost between three to eight florins per pound in 1348 (Coppo Stefani 71). Assuming the florin Coppo Stefani speaks of is the coin which King Edward III struck in 1344, the price of one pound of sugar in today’s England would be £111, or $178 in America (“Measuring Worth”). The scarcity of these goods and their demand correlate with each other and follow the basic law of supply and demand: if a product is in short supply, it is priced higher; conversely, if a product is in abundant supply, it is priced lower. The population of Western Europe had a need to buy these products, and therefore must have declined the price in favor of a lower one, or accepted it and resigned to the fact that since these products were in such short supply, they were better off purchasing them while they lasted.

Finally, business and production played the largest role in plague ravaged Europe. As death became the predominant ruler of the country, risky positions needed to be filled, such as priests, physicians, and gravediggers; these positions could be filled by such individuals as the able elderly, the poor, and beggars (Herlihy 93). Although the office of a priest did not necessarily denote compensation for a service, the amount of priests had declined so rapidly that there were not enough priests available to give the last rights to a suffering victim of the plague. New clergymen were therefore recruited by the church; however, it is not known whether or not they were offered payment (Herlihy 93). The role of a physician was quickly picked up by many people who had, unfortunately, not even attained the proper level of knowledge to become a doctor. Most were quacks posing as real doctors; although these actions are manipulative and dangerous, those who committed the deception were simply looking for a quick source of income amid a time of uncertainty and fear (Kelly 174). Most of all, the gravedigger was the most popular position to fill during the years of the plague’s presence. However, this job did not come without great risk: if a gravedigger was unfortunate enough to come in contact with a body of an infected person, he/she would almost certainly have contracted the illness with the first touch, and would be rendered incurable until death.

Following the plague, willing and able workers were in such short supply that the cost of hiring a man to become an assistant cobbler, blacksmith, or carpenter became much more expensive (Coppo Stefani 74). An example exists in the case of John Ronewyk, who owned a large estate of land in the region of Farnham, or what is now Surrey, England. During the winter of 1348-49, the region experienced its first “plague related economic dislocations” (Kelly 205). As the men working in the region died because of infection, labor prices for the surviving town workers rose dramatically. Conversely, an abundance of livestock remained because it had not yet been eaten or sold. The prices of these animals drastically dropped, and as a result of lower costs, they were bought more frequently, but with less valued placed upon them (Kelly 205). John Kelly cites an unnamed contemporary, who says of the period, “a man could have a horse previously valued at forty shillings for half a mark, a good fat ox for four shillings, and a cow for 12 quid” (Kelly 205).

Furthermore, since the price of labor was dreadfully high because of plague-related deaths, the reward for creating a cheaper way to produce goods was quite substantial as seen in the example of Johann Gutenberg (Herlihy 98). David Herlihy explains Gutenberg’s use of technology that was

carried on across the previous century…He and all the early printers were businessmen. Printing shops required considerable capital to set up their presses and to market their books. But they were able to multiply texts with unprecedented accuracy and speed, and at greatly reduced costs. The advent of printing is thus a salient example of the policy of factor substitution which was transforming the late medieval economy… (Herlihy 98)

Gutenberg profited from a speedy production of a highly desirable good, and eventually became known as the father of printing, which is just one advantage of finding a more efficient way to produce high-demand products.

Additionally, the deaths of land owners and merchants freed resources: their deaths allowed for an over abundance of unclaimed land, buildings, and goods; these available assets could then be used for farming, factories, and personal gain through market trading. Instead of using empty mill sites for their old purpose – grinding grain – they were able to be used as sites for textile production, “the operation of bellows [a mechanical device which blows a strong currant of air],” and the preparation of lumber (Herlihy 95). Herlihy offers the view that “even as the population shrank, the possibility of developing a more diversified economy was enhanced” (95). Spare goods found without an owner were snatched and then sold for a profit by whoever was lucky to find them. As with abandoned buildings, abandoned fields could be used to plow, plant, and harvest a new year’s worth of crop, thus adding to the wealth of the new owner and to the overall economy of Western Europe through trade.

The Black Death’s toll on Europe was ultimately one of the most horrific catastrophes in the history of humanity; it damaged not only the morale of European society but also damaged its already suffering economy. The severe famine which occurred 35 years prior to the plague’s entrance into Europe did not help matters in the least, and only exacerbated them by inflicting weakened immune systems and economic troubles upon the children of the early 14th century who would later become the victims of the Black Death. However, the region managed to recover its identity through sudden inheritances, psychological and need based spending, and the success of intelligent business practices; through great perseverance and economic persistence, the once plague-ravaged nations of Western Europe became a prosperous and promising cradle for the upcoming Renaissance. An expanding local economy, a revolutionary use of unclaimed capital, and a growth in technology all culminated in a successful reconstruction of a major world power and subsequently proved that though a society is stricken by disaster, it has the infinite possibility to rise against its foe and prove its resilience.






Works Cited

Coppo Stefani, Marchione Di. "The Great Fear of Florence." The Black Death. Ed. Thomas Streissguth. San Diego, CA: Greenhaven, 2004. 69-74. Print.

Epstein, Steven A. An Economic and Social History of Later Medieval Europe, 1000-1500. Cambridge, England: Cambridge UP, 2009. 159-89. Print.

Herlihy, David. "Chapter Two: The Economic and Cultural Impact of the Black Death." The Black Death. Ed. Don Nardo. San Diego, CA: Greenhaven, 1999. 91-113. Print.

Kelly, John. The Great Mortality: an Intimate History of the Black Death, the Most Devastating Plague of All Time. New York: HarperCollins, 2005. 173-205. Print.

"Purchasing Power of British Pounds from 1264 to Present." Measuring Worth - Measures of Worth, Inflation Rates, Saving Calculator, Relative Value[...]. Measuring Worth. Web. 06 Dec. 2010.

Snell, Melissa. “The Black Death.” About.com. Web. 10 Nov. 2010.

White, Matthew. "Selected Death Tolls for Wars, Massacres and Atrocities Before the 20th Century." Historical Atlas of the Twentieth Century. Oct. 2010. Web. 25 Nov. 2010.



Disclaimer:
This is copyrighted. I would sincerely appreciate it if you would a) cite this source of you use it, and b) not copy, paste, and hand in to your professor as your own work. Thanks. :-)

05 August 2010

King Lear staff


This is a design for a staff for a production of King Lear. An assignment for Basic Stagecraft two years ago.

Some sketches


Based off a dress on display at our community college




10 June 2010

Almost, Maine


This will be my last character collage for a long time. I'm majoring in English Literature at UCF, which means that I won't have a lot of time for anything but books and words. I wish I had started on it sooner, but instead I drew these sketches of my characters this morning and pieced this together. Some of the text is blacked out in the copy for spoiler reasons.


02 April 2010

Framed artwork 2

"You and I"


"Bottle study - tempera"


"Starfish study"


"Fender"


"Unity"


Framed artwork 1


"The Tempest"

Here's the original collage I did for class. We were instructed to create a piece of "fragmented art" and then draw it onto a larger piece of paper. The end result is not to scale since the original college is on an 81/2 x 11 sheet of paper and the large version is two inches wider:



A sort of self-portrait. It was damaged near the t in "mohabbat" by a hole the size of a finger...


"Bast and servants on papyrus"
A gift for my dad one year for Christmas.


"Bottle study - pastels"

Class projects - high school

Beginnings of a hand study.


Part of my Drawing I final. Never got to finish completely. We were only given 30 minutes to conceive and draw.


Hand and feet study.


Halloween skeleton. After this, I wasn't a big fan of drawing bones.


Crooked picture of a block study.

Character collages - college


The Tempest by William Shakespeare ("Light": the spirit drummer to the Air Element / The Tempest 2009)




And Baby Makes Seven by Paula Vogel ("Ruth", "Henri Dumont", "Orphan McDermott" / And Baby Makes Seven, 2009)



The Persecution and Assassination of Jean-Paul Marat as Told by the Inmates at the Asylum of Charenton Under the Direction of the Marquis de Sade by Peter Weiss ("Simonne / Bernadette" / Marat/Sade, 2010)
Detail of Bernadette the inmate/Simonne:



Character collages - high school


The second collage. A very old picture from 2006. This is the only picture I have of the whole thing. ("Queen Margaret"/Richard III, 2006)


My third collage. Not very well organized visually, but better than the first one I did for Taming of the Shrew (a piece I no longer have.) ("Margaret" / Much Ado About Nothing, 2007)


Capulets were themed blue. Montagues were red. From "After Juliet" by Sharman Macdonald, 2007. ("Helena"/After Juliet)


"The Lottery" by Brainerd Duffield, based on the short story by Shirley Jackson, 2008. ("Belva"/The Lottery)
A Detail of the drawn Belva that I did:




A Kander and Ebb Cabaret, based on music and lyrics by Kander and Ebb. ("Sally Bowles", "Veronica Kelly", ensemble/A Kander and Ebb Cabaret, 2008)


No Exit by Jean-Paul Sartre. From left to right, characters: Garcin, Inez, Estelle. (director/No Exit)

01 April 2010

Robot sketch 2

Bernadette

Watercolors from 2008

A scene inspired by Boone High School Theatre Department's production of The Lottery by Shirley Jackson. Here's the actual set, based on a post-apocalyptic-Mad-Max type world:






My second watercolor for my Painting I class. I attempted to paint a night scene on the deck of a submarine.



Inspired by Faulkner's As I Lay Dying



This is the last painting I did that semester. Outlined in ink.

Robot sketch



This is Wesley. He's a sketch that I started on in my Comp II class on Tuesday. I finished him up today during lunch with a blue and black pen.