Great Novellas: Animal Farm

Continuing with the novellas series, I want to be sure to include George Orwell's Animal Farm on the list.  This was a precursor to his more famous work, Nineteen Eighty-Four, and you can certainly see traces of that masterpiece in this smaller text.  However, this is distinctly a satire about the Soviet Union, which was equally as risky as it was relevant, rather than a prophesy of an apocalyptic future.  Typically, we think of the Russian authors who wrote in the dangerous Stalin era, such as Bulgakov and Solzhenitsyn. But Orwell, who was passionate about his political beliefs, openly hated and criticized the Soviet Union as well, particularly for its corruption of socialism.

Many of the connections to the Soviet Union are very clear: the pig dictator, Napoleon, represents Stalin; Snowball represents Trotsky; the violent confession scene represents the purge trials; the Rebellion represents the Russian Revolution, etc.  If you aren't familiar with these historical references, you might appreciate and enjoy the novella more if you looked up some of this Soviet Union history. But I think it's important to recognize that Animal Farm has value beyond its cultural connections to the time.  Orwell took the form of the Soviet Union in this particular novella in order to illustrate a larger injustice.  This injustice is found in every form of oppression.  It's the injustice of manipulating the weak, exploiting the underprivileged, and lording power over the helpless.

At the beginning of Animal Farm, the animals overthrow the humans from the farm.  They paint a picture of their autonomous rule, which will be defined by equality, peace, and mutual respect.  Although they initially work as a team in this harmonic way, they eventually create a new tyranny within their independent rule, which is arguably even worse than the rule of the humans.  The pigs take over command, instilling new rules and rewriting history to serve their purposes.  They are blinded by their desire for power, and Napoleon eventually knocks everyone out until he has supreme command of the farm.

Orwell wanted to reveal the vast disparity among economic classes as it contributes to oppression.  The pigs represent the wealthier, educated class, above the horses, cows, and others, with the sheep on the bottom. Much of the pigs’ ability to control the rest of the animals comes from their exploitation of the other animals’ inability read.  Through this, Orwell also shows the incredible power of words, which is something he likewise emphasizes in the totalitarian rule in 1984.  He thus illustrates the importance of education and is sensitive to the poor and underprivileged who don't have access to it.

I also want to be sure to note that Orwell never blamed the animals for standing up for themselves; that was a proper reaction to the oppression they faced from the humans. Instead, the problem is in the new leadership of the pigs. It's really a rather pessimistic view of governance. It would appear that all revolutions are necessary, but all leaders of such revolutions will inevitably be corrupted. Yet delivering this message in the form of an allegory allowed Orwell to expose the evils of totalitarianism in a less frightening and intimidating way.

There are so many messages packed into this novella.  In addition to exposing the terrors of the Soviet Union, Orwell illustrated the groundwork of all political oppression.  And although it appears to conclude negatively, I think that the final image offers a glimmer of hope.  The novella ends with all of the animals looking through the window as they recognize that the pigs and humans have become indistinguishable. Then the story abruptly ends, and Orwell doesn’t provide the animals' next step. Instead, I think that he is inviting the readers to take that next step now that they’ve seen the corruption he illustrated. It is now our responsibility. The only chance for a positive outcome is to respond unselfishly to the totalitarianism and injustice we encounter, which Orwell himself so strongly detected and opposed.

Great Novellas: Of Mice and Men

Moving on with the Great Novellas, I want to talk about Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck.  I absolutely adore East of Eden, (you can see my thoughts here if you're interested), but I haven't actually read very many other works by Steinbeck.  After feeling guilty about this for some time now, I finally settled down to read Of Mice and Men, and I certainly wasn't disappointed.

I think it is important to evaluate this as a novella, for this adds challenges and strengths to the piece.  Because he decided to write the story in a shorter form, we do not get a long history for the characters, nor is there time for them to really develop and grow.  Yet in a few words, Steinbeck delivers a profound message about friendship, dreams, prejudices, and hard times.  People have written countless pages of study to analyze this story, and we can find interpretations of it from innumerable angles.  But without diminishing the value of analytical study, I do want to say that I think we must admire this novella for its simplicity.

I read somewhere that Steinbeck wrote Of Mice and Men so it could be easily translated as a play.  The dialogue is more significant than the descriptions, and the setting is contained within the realms of a stage.  Again, this emphasizes the simplicity that reigns in the story without taking away from the messages embedded within it.  There is nothing to distract us from the interaction between the characters and the huge changes in the plot that occur.

The relationship between George and Lennie is beautiful.  Its uniqueness has become the source of dozens of pop cultural references, for it is equally inspiring as it is heartbreaking and as strange as it is enviable.  The two men are not bonded by blood, but their loyalty to one another is unbreakable.  They don't merely enjoy each other's company, but they have built a need for one another.  We don't know why they started traveling together, and I think it would have bogged down the text if Steinbeck had tried to explain it.  Instead, it is more moving that we simply are aware that they are friends and that they have a shared dream.  Loneliness swarms around them; it is palpable on the lips of Candy, Crooks, Curley's wife, and everyone else they encounter.  Because of this, the other characters obsess about the unusual relationship of George and Lennie.  Whether they are mocking it or questioning it, they are intrigued by this friendship.  Moreover, Lennie himself is intriguing.  He exists as a paradox, a lion with the heart of a lamb.  He has the physical capability for any feat of strength, but his mind and his heart have limits.  Lennie is drawn by softness, and his affection for small animals is touching.  Yet part of his paradox is that he ends up killing them by showing his affection too strongly.  Sadly, this characteristic is a harbinger of his fate.

There are so many things we could learn from Lennie, such as accepting people without judgment and staying loyal to your friends.  I love his scene with Crooks, the African-American of the group who has been completely shut out by everyone else.  Crooks is the one who wisely delivers the most famous line: "A guy goes nuts if he ain't got nobody. Don't make no difference who the guy is, long's he's with you."  But Lennie has his problems, and we can't idolize him.  I think Steinbeck sought to write honestly more than anything else, free from fairy tales and sugar-coating.  It's hard, it's unfair, it's disappointing, and it's so very real.

Of Mice and Men packs in so many aspects of human nature in so few pages.  It swells in moments of hope and friendship, and it twists through an impossible decision at the last.  It's no wonder that so many people have devoted time to study this slim novella.  I can't help but think about this in context of Steinbeck's magnum opus, East of Eden, which he produced 15 years later.  I can see some themes that are more fully developed and a perspective that has radically grown.  But Of Mice and Men has accomplished exactly what it could have hoped to do: it has sealed two unforgettable characters into our minds and our popular culture forever.

Great Novellas: Ethan Frome

One of the things I'd like to do with my blog in 2012 is to return to the serial posts I began in the past which could use some additions.  In August, I began a series of Great Novellas, but I only discussed One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, Night, and "The Yellow Wallpaper," which is really more of a short story than a novella.  To do the genre justice, I have some more to add to the series and am open to further suggestions from all of you.

I want to start with Ethan Frome by Edith Wharton.  This is a perfect time of year to discuss this novel, since it is set in the winter and filled with magnificent wintery details.  Unlike many people, I praise winter as my favorite time of the year, and I bask in frostbitten narratives.  There are few things I love more than curling up on the couch in the wintertime, wrapping myself in a blanket with hot chocolate or coffee, and reading a great book.  Furthermore, Ethan Frome is set in Massachusetts, which is my favorite place of residence, and the apt description of it warms my heart.

But the content of the novella is just as worthy as its setting, and I don't want to distract from that.  It's a character study that delicately leads you to understanding a complex and pitiable man.  Most of the story is conveyed through a flashback, which is contained within a frame narrative.  The initial first-person narrator is a visitor to the town, who is intrigued by a mysterious man he encounters named Ethan Frome.  During the Introduction section, we perceive Ethan through his eyes and form a biased opinion of this gruff and disfigured man.  Yet the majority of the novella is a flashback of Ethan's past, narrated in third-person from his perspective.  We then have access to his inner thoughts and hidden desires, as well as all the conflict they spark within him.  My heart ached in sympathy for this young Ethan, and I became completely attached to the character. 

This story hooked me.  I was in the middle of a different book and intended to download Ethan Frome so I could read it after I finished the one I was working on.  Out of curiosity, I glanced at the first page, and then I couldn't put it down until I was finished.  Wharton's writing is incredibly beautiful and compelling, and I flew through the pages.  But I think the most captivating aspect of the story is how very real Ethan seems to be.  It really felt like Ethan was a real person rather than a character, as his struggles were so earnest and heart-rending.  And yet, appropriately, you can recognize that Ethan is responsible for his position and that he made these choices with which he is now struggling.  Ultimately, no one is to blame for his situation, though he undeniably had some difficult circumstances most people don't have to experience at his age.  I think this is why I found it to be so compellingly human.

Because of the Introduction, we can sense that tragedy is looming over young Ethan in the flashback, and this foreboding adds a distinct mood to the story.  Nevertheless, it is still a bit of a shock when that time comes, and we return quickly to the present-day setting of the Introduction.  I think that the structure of this story is powerful, for though the Ethan we meet in the Introduction is consistent with the one we see in the Conclusion, our perspective of him has radically changed.  This creates a powerful, heart-breaking ending, which I do not think could have been shared in a more effective way.  It amazes me how deep Wharton is able to delve into the character in so few pages, and I think she had remarkable talent to be able to pull it off.  As I said at the beginning of this series, it is arguably more difficult to write great work in shorter genres like novellas, for every single word has to count.  I believe Ethan Frome is an excellent example of successfully accomplishing this challenge.

Top Ten Tuesday: Book I'm Excited to Read in 2012

Happy New Year!  Today, The Broke and the Bookish is hosting another one of their regular "Top Ten Tuesday" blog hops.  I only manage to participate in these every now and then, but today's topic certainly caught my attention.  What are the top ten books I'm most excited to read in 2012? 

There are a lot of things I have in mind for 2012.  In 2011, I successfully knocked off a couple of large volumes that have been sitting in my "To Read" list for years.  I am thrilled to have completed them, but the list just continues to increase.  There are many books on my agenda, but these are the ones that really pique my interest:

1. The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco -- One of my good friends is a big fan of Eco, and I almost always agree with his taste in books.  But I haven't read anything by Eco at all yet and I'm eager to correct that!

2. Watership Down by Richard Adams -- A year ago, I hadn't even heard of this book, and now it seems to pop up in conversation all the time.  Then another friend of mine decided to read it and became absolutely transfixed by it.  The only thing I know about it is the general plot line, which is odd enough to make me wonder what the excitement is all about.  I'm so curious!

3. The Idiot by Fyodor Dostoevsky -- Currently, I think I can assert that Dostoevsky is my favorite author.  However, I have been working hard at sampling a wide variety of literature rather than reading all of individual authors' works.  But why should I keep doing this?  I have no doubt that The Idiot is a treasure I will absolutely love and so I'm definitely returning to Dostoevsky this year.

4. Collected Fictions by Jorge Luis Borges -- From what I understand, Borges has a very unique and innovative style that I should certainly experience.  I think I have a big gap in my literature variety if I don't include Borges and maybe some other South American authors.

5. Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov -- I like to bring up Russian Literature all the time, but I haven't read Nabokov, one of the most famous Russian authors.  Knowing its premise, I have some mixed feelings about the story, but there are enough people supporting the book who encourage me to read it this year.

6. Let the Great World Spin by Colum McCann -- I don't have a detailed reason for this one, but it sparked my interest and now I can't get it off my mind.  I don't know much about it, but it has really appealed to me, and I want to check it out soon.

7. The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins -- One of my friends just assigned me this trilogy, knowing that I wouldn't typically read something like this.  But I have to admit that I am curious about all the attention it is getting and looking forward to the quick read.

8. Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer -- I don't know whether I'll be able to get to this one this year, but I think I would enjoy it.  It just sounds like an incredible tale and something very different than the stuff I usually read.  It would be a nice break in between some of the heavy tomes.

9. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer -- If you're catching this trend, this is yet another book that is different than the Classics I usually read and yet I'm intriuged by it.  I have only heard good things from people about this author, and the upcoming movie might be added inspiration for me to read it before I watch it.

10. ???  -- In 2011, you all - my book blog audience - recommended a number of books for me to read that I thoroughly enjoyed.  Some of the best books I read this year were ones I read in reluctance.  I didn't expect them to appeal to me, but I took the advice of friends and fellow book bloggers.  And I am so glad I did!  So this category is to say that I'm eager to read whatever books you recommend to me that I may not have considered on my own.

Wow, this has kind of turned into a New Year's Resolution of sorts.  It's going to take a lot of effort to complete all of these, but I hope to live up to the challenge!

The e-Reader Debate

I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas and is still reveling in holiday spirit.  This is my favorite time of year, and I wish you all have some of the joy I have been feeling.  And while things have been extremely busy in my life lately, I have not given up on this blog.  I hope to come back with new energy in January!

But before we discuss specific books and authors again, I want to open a little debate.  I imagine that the Kindle was a popular present this year, and since so many of you love reading, it's likely that you received one (or another kind of e-reader).  However, many book lovers are resisting the emergence of e-readers out their loyalty to books.  I know this because I was once staunchly opposed to reading tablets. 

I love books.  Let me make that as clear as possible.  There is nothing that compares to holding a book in your hands and feeling the significance in its weight.  I love turning pages forward to feel the progress I'm making but also flipping back to ones I've already read to find the connections.  (Or when I'm reading Russian works, I need to flip back to remember all the names!)  I like penciling in notes in the margins or underlining a passage I want to be able to quickly find again.  I adore antique books that have soft leather covers and that delightful musty smell of old pages.  Some of my most prized possessions are volumes I have from the 1800s, such as my first-edition copy of The Portrait of a Lady.  A reading tablet could never be a legitimate substitute for something like that.

Another objection I had to Kindles was a commercial they had on TV.  In it, a guy and a girl have a short "debate" about Kindles versus books.  I can hardly bring myself to call it a debate because the arguments are absolutely pathetic.  The only defense the girl offers for books is that she feels satisfaction turning down a page.  I don't think there's a single book lover who would say that is the primary reason he or she enjoys holding a book.  In fact, I imagine that many adament book lovers would never dream of damaging the page by folding it down.  I was so irritated with the completely inadequate defense of books that I formed a negative opinion of Kindles in general.

Thus, when my parents surprised me with a Kindle last spring, I was not thrilled with the gift.  I glared at the small tablet like it was my enemy, threatening the extinction of something I so greatly love.  I could barely muster a polite "thank you" for their generous and well-meaning gift, because I was waging this internal battle.  But since I now owned it, I reluctantly begin to play around with it and observe its capabilities.  In almost no time at all, I was hooked.

That's right, I am absolutely a fan of the Kindle.  I can't argue as adamantly for other e-Readers because this is the only one I really know.  But I now carry mine with me wherever I go.  By far, the most useful aspect of a Kindle for me has been reading it while I use public transportation.  When I get on the T, (subway in Boston), it can be so difficult to balance my purse, coffee, newspaper, and book, especially when I still need a free hand to hold on to the pole.  As you can imagine, I feel awfully clumsy when I try to use two hands to turn the pages and keep track of a bookmark to save my place.  With my Kindle, however, I can have my purse on my shoulder, tuck my coffee in the crook of my arm, and hold the Kindle with just one hand, leaving the other free to hold on for dear life.  I can also easily slip it in and out of my purse, which is too small to fit actual books but has plenty of room for my beloved Kindle.  Just think how many books you could have with you on vacation!

My other favorite feature is that you can download almost every classic for free.  You heard me - FREE.  I have not yet paid one penny to put a book on my Kindle, nor have I run out of memory space.  Now, it's a piece of cake to check out books that people recommend to me.  In just seconds, I can have a free copy in my hands that I don't have to worry about finding or returning to the library. 

Finally, the internet feature has been helpful to me.  It is certainly not the easiest internet browser, but it's functional.  Yet because I don't have internet on my phone, my Kindle has helped me out in a few tight spots.  If I want to do something fairly simple, like look up the weather, a restaurant's number, my email, etc., my Kindle does the job.  The iPad clearly has a much better internet system, and people unfamiliar with my Kindle tend to struggle with using the online feature.  But remember that the Kindle is designed for reading, and the internet is just a handy addition.

HOWEVER, I still love books, and I still believe that there is no replacement for them.  If I'm just sitting on the couch, I would rather read a physical book.  I miss being able to flip through past pages when I want to make a connection or check something out.  I miss penciling in notes for passages I want to be able to quickly reference.  I don't feel like I'm making as much progress when I am looking at a percentage number rather than feeling the weight shift as the finished pages surpass the ones yet to read.  And as I said earlier, I adore antique books with their soft leather covers, golden trim, and musty book scent.  A Kindle can't reproduce this, and thus it could never extinguish books.  But I've learned that it does have its advantages, and I can heartily recommend it, especially to those who use the subway!

But I want to hear from you!  What do you think of e-readers?  Do you like them?  Hate them?  Did you get one for Christmas?  Can you understand my internal struggle?  I look forward to your thoughts!

The French Lieutenant's Woman

I've been wanting to share this next one with you for some time now, and it's the perfect follow-up to my post about Metanarrative.  It's been a while since I read The French Lieutenant's Woman by John Fowles, but I still remember how much I loved it upon my first reading.  I've now reexamined the story and am eager to add it to my list of Classics.

The main character of the story is Charles Smithson, a Victorian gentleman who begins the story with a suitable fiance.  The title character is Sarah Woodruff, a social outcast due to her past relationship with a lieutenant who abandoned her and tarnished her reputation.  As fate would have it, Charles is captivated by this mysterious woman and eventually enters into an affair with her.  In many ways, the characters and setting of the story fit into a typical Victorian design.  Based in England in 1867, it is reminiscent of Jane Austen, Thomas Hardy, and other authors of that era.  However, Fowles is clearly satirizing Victorian literature and fashioning a Postmodern work of brilliance in this Victorian mold.

The primary method of satire is Fowles' unique and amusing narration.  The narrator constantly breaks in and out of the story in metanarrative, dispelling the fantasy.  Eventually, he confesses that he is actually writing the story in 1967, yet he claims to have no authority over his characters.  In a truly unique move, Fowles actually places himself temporarily in the story.  Near the end, he describes a man who is sitting on the train across from the main character and studying him quizzically.  He reveals that he, the narrator, is the mysterious man on the train and as he looks at Charles, he says, "What the devil am I going to do with you?"  Then, he proceeds to weigh the possible outcomes of the story.  Memorably, he eventually settles the matter by offering three alternative endings, which he suggests are all equally valid.

I thoroughly enjoyed this narrative style.  I love the ways he poked fun at Victorian literature, and I often chuckled at the narrator's subjective comments that balk from a tradition of "narrator as god."  He also filled the text with countless literary allusions, which I, as a fellow lit lover, absolutely loved.  Every chapter begins with at least one quote from a famous piece of literature, and at times he directly explains its connection to the story.  His characters are equally well read and frequently refer to various works of their time, such as Madame Bovary and Persuasion.

Another important aspect of this story is the ambiguity, which plays a critical role in the novel.  Fowles pushes readers to consider that things cannot always be separated into distinct categories.  It is not always a matter of right or wrong, good or bad, yes or no.  Sarah is the best example of this in the novel.  Through gossip in the town, we hear many explanations and opinions about her relationship with the French lieutenant, but none of them are ever confirmed.  Moreover, the shame she bears from this relationship is presented at times as her source of victimization, and at other times, it's her source of power. But perhaps the greatest ambiguity of all these possible motives is that they do not necessarily contradict each other.  It is conceivable that they may all be true, or at least partially true.  Moreover, there is an implicit suggestion that one explanation does not exist, that there is not one “true” reason for Sarah’s actions.  This essentially borders the Postmodern theory of "truth" and "untruth," in which there are multiple dimensions we perceive rather than one set guideline.

Publishing this in 1969, Fowles was ahead of his time.  I believe that his work was monumental in the transition from Modern to Postmodern literature, and his brilliance is even more striking in consideration of the innovation it brought.  The French Lieutenant's Woman is about so much more than its plot.  In fact, the plot is the least memorable aspect of the story for me.  Instead, Fowles challenged the boundaries of what a story can be and ushered in a new era of writing.  This novel is lightly entertaining and deeply philosophical at the same time, which is not an easy thing to accomplish.  I highly recommend it to all!

Literary Analysis, Part 3: Metanarrative

I'm sorry for taking so long before writing a new post.  Although this series takes more work for me to write, I am finding it to be really valuable, and I am motivated to continue.  However, I am walking in some territory beyond my expertise, so please read this as a discussion rather than an official instruction.

Metanarrative is another really fascinating lens of literary analysis.  It comes from Postmodern philosophy, which is based on the idea that definitive absolutes - such as Truth - are either extremely elusive or nonexistent.  Inherently, this also makes it difficult to define postmodernism, since it balks against definitions.  Nevertheless, there are theories within postmodernism we can understand and which shed light on the literary subset of metanarrative.

According to this philosophy, everything we experience is subject to our interpretation of it.  We cannot evaluate anything from an objective standpoint because we unavoidably make assumptions based on our interpretations.  Even if we tried to avoid this by taking what is written to be meant literally, this is still a subjective decision.  For this reason, postmodernists believe that our conception of Truth is relative because it is subject to our interpretive limits of "true" and "untrue."  Some postmodernists will go so far as to suggest that there is no definitive Truth at all, but others (like myself) argue that it must exist, though we will never have the assurance that we know it.

Authors who incorporate metanarrative in their writing explore this postmodern idea. To start simply, metanarrative is a story within a story.  These texts are not written with a third-person, omniscient narrator who exists outside of the characters in the story.  Instead, they have active narrators who openly insert themselves in the stories they are telling and are self-conscious of their own narration.  If the narrator appears as a character in the story, the author may take a break from the main storyline to say what the narrator is doing in real time.  This creates a metanarrative by acknowledging that there are two simultaneous things happening - 1. The events of a previous experience from a retrospective point of view, and 2. The present events occurring while the narrator is telling the story.

If the narrator does not appear as a character in the story, he will break the traditional framework to reveal that he is incorporating his personal opinions to the story.  By doing this, the author openly acknowledges that the events of the story should not be taken as factual, unwavering Truth.  A metanarrative identifies that there is a narrator behind the story and not an omniscient, inerrant god.  This emphasizes that the reader's understanding of the story will be affected by the narrator's presentation as well as her own interpretation.

Another aspect of postmodernism that often appears in metanarrative is frequent allusions to past works.  Again, this is meant to illustrate that we are wrapped in the context of various stories which impact our understanding.  The author of a metanarrative is extremely self-aware and wants readers to challenge their own interpretations as well. 

Why would I want to know this?  How will this affect my reading?

Because we are so accustomed to omniscient narrators, we may be baffled the first time we encounter metanarratives.  I find that it is helpful to understand the purpose behind these unusual narrations so that we can scrutinize what the author is conveying.  Of course, if you believe in the heavy subjectivity our interpretation brings, then we should never expect to really understand what the author had in mind.  I find that this makes the piece of writing much more fluid and welcomes readers to entertain various interpretations.


Examples in Literature:

Midnight's Children by Salman Rushdie
The French Lieutenant's Woman by John Fowles
Life of Pi by Yann Martel
The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco

Honorable mention: Frankenstein, Turn of the Screw, and Dracula are all layered with multiple narrators to play with interpretations among the characters of the story and those of the readers


Useful Explanation:

Purdue University's Guide to Postmodernism
I'll try to find more for this later, but let me know if you have a useful site at hand!