For Wednesday: Lermontov, "Princess Mary," Part I (read to June 5th entry)

Since "Princess Mary" is a long story, really a novella, we'll break it into two parts for Wednesday's class (though feel free to read the entire thing in one go if you wish--it's a fascinating story). Read to the June 5th entry, which is about 50 pages. If we have class on Friday, we'll finish the rest for then; if not, we'll finish it and read the final story for next Monday.

Answer TWO of the following: 

Q1: Why does Pechorin resent his old acquaintance Grushnitsky so much? What might truly be at the heart of their rivalry? And do you think Grushnitsky resents him equally--or does he have a bit of hero worship for him as do the Narrator and Maksim Maksimich? 

Q2: Early on in the story, Pechorin admits "Contradiction is, with me, an innate passion; my entire life has been nothing but a chain of sad and frustrating contradictions to heart or reason." Based on this, how can we know who the real Pechorin really is? Can we tell when he's merely being contrary or obstinate? Does he, like Pococurante, always say or do the opposite thing? Or is he less clever than he gives himself credit for?

Q3: Where in this story does Pechorin occasionally sound self-consciously literary? Are their times that his journal (it's dated like a personal diary) sounds too polished or contrived to be real? Does it ever sound more like the Narrator or other stories we've read before? 

Q4: Why does Pechorin take pride in being told "that when riding in Circassian garb, I look more like a Kabardan than many a Kabardan...I have studied, for a long time, the mountain people"? Why would a Russian who looks down on these people want to be thought one of them? What might this say about his character and values? 

For Monday: Lermontov, "Maksim Maksimich" and "Taman" from A Hero Of Our Time

Portrait of Mikhail Lermontov (or Pechorin?) 

As always, answer TWO of the following for Monday's class:

Q1: Though these stories are told by two different narrators, our main Narrator and Pechorin (via his Journal), what makes them strangely similar? What echoes or connections do both seem to share? Similarly, is there a reason that "Taman" follows the brief "Maksim Maksimich"? 

Q2: In "Taman," Pechorin writes, "She was far from beautiful, but I have my preconceptions in regard to beauty, too. She revealed a good deal of breeding." In what way is this girl like Bela from our first story? And in general, what seems to attract our 'bored' hero to specific women? What might this say about his character and outlook? 

Q3: The only time our Narrator ever sees Pechorin is in the tiny story, "Maksim Maksimich," and then only very briefly. What does he observe about our literary hero, and how does this confirm, or contrast with Maksim Maksimich's account in "Bela"? Why might it also be significant that Pechorin seems to be less friendly with M.M. than first reported?

Q4: When the Narrator takes Pechorin's Journal from M.M., he quicky sees that it's published under his name, which he later admits is an "innocent forgery." Why does he do this? Do you believe his claim that "solely the desire to be useful compelled me to print excerpts from a journal that came accidentally into my possession"? 

Wednesday's Lecture/Discussion: The Rise of Romanticism

NOTE: Friday's questions are BELOW this post... 

As a prelude to reading A Hero of Our Time, I introduced three paintings that help us understand Romanticism, which was the artistic movement that followed hot on the heels of the Enlightenment, and which all writers and artists in the 19th century got swept up in. 

The painting on the left, Kramskoy's An Unknown Woman (1883) depicts one of the biggest differences between 18th century paintings and those in the early to mid 19th century: sensibility. This painting captures a psychological portrait of the woman in the coach, who you note is perched well above us. She looks down on us, seemingly with power and command, even though she also seems rather defenceless: she is alone, and no woman could travel alone this time (esp. in Russia) without some kind of chaperone. The black suggests that she could be a widow, though the empty seat beside her suggests that she's used to having company, and is inviting the viewer to join her. She might be "unknown" because society doesn't want to know her; she's probably a woman who flaunts her independence and refuses to marry (or marry again) and could even be a kept mistress of a rich bachelor (or worse, married man!). Yet she's proud of her status, and even the painter shares his admiration with the viewer. We get a sense of who she is: not a satire, but a flesh and blood woman full of passion, strength, and ideas. This captures the idea of sensibility, which is that art should move the reader deeply, or at least help us feel what is inside the painting or novel we're reading.

The next painting (right) is Caspar David Freidrich's Wanderer Above a Sea of Fog (1818), which showcases the very Romantic notion of the sublime. The sublime is defined by the philosopher Immanuel Kant as "the tall cliffs, towering thunder clouds, volcanoes, hurricanes, the boundless ocean set in a rage, lofty waterfalls, and the like as overwhelming to our puny powers." When we face the sublime, we feel small, insignificant, and often in the presence of death. Yet this makes us feel vibrantly alive, since it knocks us out of our day-to-day ego to feel part of something vast and 'human.' The Romantics loved to have adventures in Nature to feel part of a greater world, one that was both beautiful and terrible at the same time, and Lermontov is very much like this Wanderer, contemplating the beauty of the Caucasus Mountains in "Bela" (which you'll read for next class). 

Our third painting (left) is by Jean August Dominique Ingres, and is entitled La Grande Odalisque (an "odalisque" is a harem slave, or concubine in the Middle East). The Romantics loved the East and legends and stories of the Orient, since it represented to them an exotic world beyond the morals and taboos of Western society. They created a romanticized vision of the East through stories and paintings of harems, deserts, mosques, and picturesque villages perched in the mountains. Many of these works can be seen as somewhat racist today, as they treat the East--and especially Eastern people, and women--as objects, seeing them less for who they are as what they represent for the West. This is called "Orientalism," and Lermontov's novel certainly engages in this a bit, though Lermontov did have first-hand experience as a soldier in the Caucasus region (see below) which was kind of like the "Wild West" of Russia. So while the East represented a way to experience the sublime without the constraints of polite society, they also brought their 'civilized' biases along with them, framing the East in light of Western notions of beauty and morality. 

In many ways, Russia is the greatest place to tell the story of Romanticism, since it is perched precariously between the Eastern and Western worlds, and is full of sublime landscapes and dangerous culture clashes. The novel A Hero of Our Time is a novel that transports the sensibility of Europe to the sublime landscapes of the near-Middle East, there to dabble in conventional portraits of Orientalism while also offering an eyewitness depiction of the people and places the author himself visited. So in this book, does art imitiate life...or life imitate art? 

For Friday: Lermontov, "Bela" from A Hero of Our Time

"An Uzbek Woman in Tashkent" by Vasily Vereshchagin

NOTE: I stupidly told you to read the first two stories for Friday, though we'll only have time for "Bela," since it's pretty long. You can read "Maksim Maksimich" for Friday, too, though we won't discuss it until Monday's class when we also discuss "Taman." So the questions below are only for "Bela."

Answer TWO of the following:

Q1: How do both the Narrator and Maksim Maksimich reveal their own casual racism and "Orientalist" views on the people of the Caucasus in this story? Do you think Lermontov is trying to satirize Russian biases towards the East, or does he take these views for granted? 

Q2: What kind of character is Pechorin, and who might he remind us of from Candide? If he is the "Hero of Our Time," are we supposed to be impressed with him, or is he, too, a kind of satirical portrait? Similarly, how do the Narrator and Maksim Maksimich seem to respond to him?  

Q3: How does the story channel the Romantic sublime? What did Lermontov want to impress upon the reader (who at this time, would be readers who lived in the major cities of Russia) about the exotic world of the Caucasus? How does he help us see the beauty and terror of this strange land?

Q4: As the Narrator tells his story, he admits, "it is not a novella I am writing, but traveling notes...Therefore, wait a while, or, if you wish, turn several pages..." Why does the Narrator address the reader this way? And why might Lermontov had created the ruse of writing a novel about a man who is not writing a novel? 

For Monday: Writing Exam #1

 Remember that for Monday, we're going to have our first "Writing Exam," which is just a short in-class essay based on Candide. Be sure to bring your book since I'll expect you to quote from the text to support your answer. While I won't tell you exactly what the question will be, you might consider how Candide could be considered a subversive text, and how it relates to certain books that are commonly banned or challenged in today's society...

If you have to miss class on Monday for any reason, please let me know so we can reschedule your Writing Exam. I can't let you do this via e-mail, but you don't want to miss it, since each one is 5 pts (out of 100). 

See you then! 

For Friday: Finish Candide, Chapters 23-30/Conclusion (or get as close as possible!)

Read the last chapters of the book and answer the following...remember, we'll have our first Writing Exam on Monday over Candide (more about that in class on Friday!). So be sure to finish...(hint, hint!) 

Q1: One of the themes of the book, as expressed by more than one character, is that all of our pleasures are built on the pain of others...and that trying to save people often brings its own suffering (to yourself and others). Where do we see this theme repeated in the final chapters--and with whom? 

Q2: Count Pococurante is one of the strangest, and in some ways, most modern characters in the book (his name means "little caring"). Why is Candide so taken with him, and why might he be a true symbol of the worst excesses of the Enlightenment and the upper classes themselves? 

Q3: One of the most humorous elements of the book is that (almost) no one truly dies: Pangloss, Paquette, the Baron, and many others return by the end of the novel, resurrected, to enjoy a 'happy ending.' Why do you think Voltaire does this? How might it affect his overall message or the theme of the book itself?

Q4: The most controversial line of the book is Candide's newfound philosophy, which tries to make the best of his situtation with the others: "we must go and work in the garden." How do you interpret this philosophy? Is he saying that it's better to work rather than to question fate? (in which case, it sounds an awful like like Pangloss' original philosophy). Or is he saying that all people should be equal, working in the garden rather than simply employing others to do so? Is this an anti-authoritarian message? Or is there another way to interpret the phrase? 

For Wednesday's Class: Voltaire, Candide, Chapters 13-22

Goya, The Shooting of the Rebels on May 3rd, 1803

As before, answer TWO of the following questions for Wednesday's class. 

Q1: In many ways, Candide is a book about education: how do young people learn to be adults in the modern world (of the 18^th century, that is)? What lessons do Candide and Cunegonde receive in right and wrong, and are either of them forced to corrupt their “good” nature simply to prosper in the world? Does success require a moral sacrifice for Voltaire?

Q2: El Dorado is a fabled paradise in the New World, which many explorers, including Sir Walter Raleigh, spent their lives trying to find. Lucky for him, Candide stumbles right onto it. What does Candide see in El Dorado that goes against the very nature of European civilization? Why might this entire passage be an elaborate satire of the idea that “whatever is, is right”?

Q3: How do the two new characters, Cacambo and Martin, add to the satire of the novel? What new perspective does one, or both, offer, and how do they help us see aspects of the world that Candide is too young and ignorant to notice? 

Q4: In a letter to his friend, Frederick the Great, Voltaire once wrote, “It is said there are savages who eat men and think they do right.  I reply that these savages have the same idea of justice and injustice as we have.  They make war as we do from madness and passion; we see the same crimes committed everywhere, and eating one’s enemies is but an additional ceremony.  The wrong is not putting them on the spit but killing them.” How might Voltaire illustrate these sentiments through some of the action and events of Candide? In other words, why is evil not a how but a what/why question?

Wednesday's Class Overview: Intro to the Enlightenment

NOTE: The questions for Candide are in the post BELOW this one. 

In class today, I showed you three paintings that I felt gave a brief overview of some of the ideas of the Enlightenment, particularly regarding the role artists played in challenging the status quo (especially when the status quo was wealthy, entitled, and held the power of life and death over the populace). The three paintings we looked at are below (click on a picture to see a bigger version):

Sir Thomas Gainsborough's Portrait of Mr. and Mrs. Andrews (1750). Note how he shoved the couple to one side and focused more on the landscape, as if to say they were less important than nature. While this might have been asked of him, to showcase their impressive holdings, it does diminish the couple and their importance in the painting. And note how much 'truth' he offers us about the couple: he doesn't smooth them over or make them pretty. They seem somewhat frumpy, awkward, irritable, and totally removed from one another. The only thing happy in the painting seems to be the dog! Gainsborough seems to be satirizing the couple and diminishing their importance to posterity, letting the artist have the last word. 

In the next painting, Francisco Goya's Charles IV of Spain and his Family (1801), we get much the same thing, but much more audaciously. Goya has thrust the king and his family in a dark room, and shown them in the moment between the 'real' picture, when they would be posing in style and grandeur. Note that most people are looking away, looking bored, looking confused. The king looks a bit drunk; his wife looks proud and dignified, but also looks old--he didn't try to lie about her age or looks. The kids seem scared and lost. And Goya even inserted himself into the picture--you can see him in the shadows before his easel, painting the royal couple (and having a good laugh at their expense). His point? That even the royal family are just people, and can also look old and foolish. 

Finally, we get William Hogarth's Portrait of Miss Mary Edwards (1742). This was a portrait of a woman who was ostracized from society. Though she was once a rich heiress, she made an unfortunate match and her husband began burning through their money to fuel his gambling addiction. Soon they would be destitute, and her young son would have no future. So she took an unprecedented step: she had the priest burn her marriage records, making their union null and void. This, however, made her a whore (she had sex out of wedlock) and her son a bastard, which effectively removed her from society. But so what? She had her money back, and she defied anyone to make her feel shame about protecting her son. Hogarth depicts her as exactly that--proud, defiant, and more than a little beautiful. Does he flatter her? Maybe a little, but he truly seems to respect her, and includes a letter on her desk which is a copy of Elizabeth I's famous speech to her soldiers as the Spanish Armada approached. His point seems to be--this is our modern Elizabeth, a woman who can stand up to tyranny and inspire us! 

Look for these ideas when we read Candide, since it, too, is a portrait of the aristocracy and the elites of Europe in all their glory (and degradation). When you read the book, picture these images in your mind, since they come from the exact same period (Candide was published in 1759). 

First Reading (for Friday's class): Voltaire, Candide, Chs. 1-12 (pp.19-57) approximately

 

REMEMBER: these questions are meant as a kind of guide to help you ease into the book and find ideas you might otherwise miss or ignore.  Ideally, by answering two of the questions, you will be forced to consider not only what you read but why Voltaire wrote it.  Don’t worry about being right or wrong; the important thing is simply to attempt an answer based on the ideas in the book.  Even a “wrong” answer can help our class discussion on Friday. Respond in a short paragraph--at least a few sentences for each question you answer. 

Answer TWO of the following--due in class on Friday or no later than 5pm: 

Q1: Describe Dr. Pangloss’s philosophy as it appears throughout these chapters, notably in the beginning of the book and during the earthquake in Lisbon. Is Pangloss the voice of “reason” in the work (Voltaire’s voice, in other words), or is he an object of satire?  Where do we see this?

Q2: The name “Candide” means “candid, honest, or open,” suggesting that Candide is an innocent soul who believes the best of people.  How does Voltaire test Candide’s faith throughout these opening chapters?  Do you feel he agrees with Candide that mankind is essentially good, despite a few “bad apples,” or does he think Candide is an idiot for holding such beliefs? 

Q3: How does Voltaire criticize the Church in the passages about the Lisbon earthquake (which was a real event)?  Do you think Voltaire is an atheist (as he was accused of being in his lifetime), or is he more critical of how religion is used by those in power? 

Q4: At the end of the Old Woman’s Tale, she explains, “A hundred times I was upon the point of killing myself; but still I loved life.  This ridiculous foible is perhaps one of our most fatal characteristics."  What, after all her trials and misfortunes, do you think she “loves” about life?  What can she still see that most people in her situation could not?  Also, do you think Voltaire agrees with this statement—or is he satirizing the Old Woman’s stupidity?  

Welcome to the Course!

Welcome to our class website for World Literature from 1700: you can find all the reading and daily assignments here, as well as paper assignments, handouts, and other links and information. Remember, we use this instead of Blackboard, though you don't have to post or submit anything to this site. It's merely to keep you plugged into the course when you're away from class. 

Be sure to get the books for class as soon as possible, especially Candide, since we'll be starting that very soon! You can find all of them at the ECU bookstore:

Required Books:

• Candide, Voltaire (Penguin, or any edition)
• Lermontov, A Hero of Our Time (Penguin, or any edition)
• Kafka, The Complete Stories
• Soseki, Kokoro (Dover, or any edition)
• Duras, The Lover (any edition)
• Lahiri, The Interpreter of Maladies (any edition)

Please let me know if you have any questions, and don't hesitate to e-mail me if you have to miss class or are in quarantine at jgrasso@ecok.edu. See you in class!