Sunday, February 26, 2012

DRJ#2


Allison Hartsell
DRJ #2: Hamlet, Act II

Initial reaction: I don't feel that I know enough about the characters at this point to be able to compare them to anyone I know. I am beginning to think I am deeply uncreative, but there's nothing here that reminds me of my life or any movies apart from other Shakespearean works. So I'll go ahead and compare one work of Shakespeare to others. In this act, everyone seems to want to use some sort of trickery to find out the “truth” about another character. Trickery is very common for old William S. Shylock is tricked in the Merchant of Venice by Portia, who is dressed as a man; Juliet tries to trick the people of Verona into believing she is dead in order to have the opportunity to run away with Romeo.
Character anaylysis: I am going to focus on Polonius. He seems to be a caring father, certainly interested in the welfare of his children. His love is demonstrated in some odd ways, though, as he sends Reynaldo to spy on his son Laertes in Paris, and first forbids Ophelia from interacting with Hamlet further, then intends to use her to determine if she's the source of Hamlet's insanity. He also seems kind of obnoxious, rambling on to the queen instead of getting to the point. I think he is a supporting character, whose motives and interactions with Hamlet serve to show us something about Hamlet, rather than Polonius. Hamlet's extreme seriousness contrasts with the goofiness of Polonius, and Hamlet seems to be mocking Polonius throughout their interactions. For example, at 2.2.175-210, Hamlet and Polonius engage in a dialogue in which Polonius seems utterly confused by everything Hamlet says. Then later, at 2.2.354-380, Hamlet outright insults Polonius. Polonius tells Hamlet that the actors have arrived, and Hamlet responds with “Buz, buz,” accusing Polonius of being boring.
Theme analysis: Several characters in this act plan to use some form of trickery to find out the truth. Polonius intends to use Ophelia to see if Hamlet is really in love with her, without Hamlet knowing that Polonius will be spying; Queen Gertrude and King Claudius use Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to find out what is wrong Hamlet; and Hamlet intends to use the traveling actors and their play to determine if Claudius really killed Hamlet's father. In short, I think one theme of this act is our inherent desire to understand the truth in our reality, even if we have to deceive in order to do so. Shakespeare uses repetition of this theme—desire for truth—using many different characters, to reinforce this idea.   

Saturday, February 25, 2012


DRJ #1: Act I
Allison Hartsell

No one in Act I reminds me of anyone I know specifically. When Polonius warns Ophelia to guard her virtue from Hamlet, it seems a very common warning from fathers to their daughters. King Hamlet being killed by his shady brother (possibly) sounds a bit like The Lion King.
I am going to focus on Claudius, because I sense that I'm going to like him the least. If the ghost of Hamlet Sr. is not a liar, then Claudius is not a hero, but certainly has a fatal flaw: greed. I don't know yet if he wanted Hamlet's kingdom or simply his wife, but in either case, the willingness to murder his own brother by sneak attack is just...shady. I would not say that the conflict he creates is caused intentionally (yet—hard to say right now, as I'm only through Act II); I don't think he wanted anyone to find out about his murdering of Hamlet Sr. He should be quite comfortable, having inherited the queen and the kingdom of Denmark. The supposed purity and perfection of the dead King Hamlet quite contrasts Claudius' intentions and behavior.
If I had to choose one theme to focus on during Act I (and it turns out I do, because that's the assignment), I would say it is this: through the way he has constructed his female characters, he is suggesting that women are easily seduced. *Disclaimer: I do not agree with this, I'm just accusing Shakespeare of thinking so. At 1.2.146, the protagonist Hamlet says, “Frailty, thy name is woman!” This is sparked by the fact that his mother recovered from the death of Hamlet Sr. so quickly, easily trapped by Claudius. Shakespeare probably would not have used his most significant character to state such a thing if he did not believe so himself. In addition, Ophelia needs directions from both her brother and father to protect her virtue from Hamlet. Ophelia suggests to her father Polonius that Hamlet loves her, to which Polonius responds, “Affection!Pooh! You speak like a green girl/Unsifted in such perilous circumstance.” (1.3.101-102). Both of these women require little coaxing to fall in love/lust with men, and both approach romance with naivete.  

Wednesday, February 8, 2012


Thesis #2: Chopin

Louise does not “come to life” until she has processed the fact that her husband is dead. In the beginning she is a delicate woman with a heart problem; as she sits in her room turning over the news that she is “Free! Body and soul, free!”, her eyes are “keen and bright,” holding the very essence of liveliness. This is in stark contrast to how she imagines her husband will look, “fixed and gray and dead.” The descriptions surrounding Louise's reaction revolve around energy, spring, an open sky, her coursing blood; at one point she is likened to a “goddess of Victory.” Chopin intentionally uses lively descriptions only when we believe Louise to be a widow, suggesting that marriage is life-draining for women.

Sunday, February 5, 2012


Allison Hartsell
SSRJ #2: Colette

Sidonie-Gabrielle Colette's short story The Hand made me feel uncomfortable. The young wife, whose name we never learn, goes from gushing newlywed to resigned, disgusted matron within a matter of hours at most. The element that stood out as interesting to me was the setting; the entirety of the story takes place within a bedroom. In many ways, the story only takes place within the mind of the wife, as the plot follows her growing realization that she is married to someone she doesn't know.
The young wife is at first girlishly devoted to her new husband. She thinks, “'Too happy to sleep,'” as she supports the slumbering head of her husband on her shoulder (Colette 282). As she studies her handsome husband, she has nothing but wondrous admiration for his athleticism, his mouth, even his hand—at first. The appearance morphs from just manly to threatening, ready to attack, and squeezes the blanket with “the methodical pleasure of a strangler” (Colette 284). But when Colette moves the focal point to his hand in particular, it becomes the centerpiece of the story. In moving the focus from courtship to the hand and giving it a role in the story, Colette makes a statement about what marriage meant for women: lack of power, a life of subservience. The marriage that at first seemed so pefect and shiny, like the superficial gleam of the husband's nail varnish, turns ugly upon close inspection. By its closing, the nameless young lady has realized what the hand, or marriage, really is; and the once energetic girl begins “her life of duplicity, of resignation” (Colette 284), and kisses the hand in disheartened understanding. She has lost her freedom, and belongs now to her husband. Colette intentionally left the bride and groom nameless. The fact that neither the wife nor the husband have names indicates that this could have been any couple in the early 1900s, and all married women were destined to be owned and stifled.
The Hand states very quickly that this new husband is recently widowed. Are we supposed to think that the marriage killed her, or the husband?