The Danger of a Single Story

In Chimamanda Adichie’s Ted Talk, I found many elements of stereotypical values that even I have fallen for. We all think of Africans with the same sort of pity she described, even though we don’t mean it to be degrading. Even though I have never described Africa as a country, I have thought of it as one entity of countries that all suffer the same trials and catastrophes. Needless to say, this embarrasses me more than anything else, especially because I come from, and have lived all my life, in a country that suffers the same problem Africa does. Colombia has a single story throughout the world: the story that was born with Pablo Escobar and the M19.

As Colombians, we are all seen and judged by the endless guerrilla wars, the drug traffic, the violence and the insecurity of our country. This judgement can be seen in things as trivial as pop stars not coming here to perform, and in things as personal as people being surprised of where I come from when I have talked to them in English. People tend to view Colombia as a country of violence and drug lords. They see Bogota as it was shown in the first five minutes of Mr. and Mrs. Smith, a desolate town with no hope or future.

Why is it then, that we still do the same for other people around the world?

Even within our same country we have the fear of a single story, people who refuse to go to the south of Bogota because of the tales of poverty and insecurity in that part of the town, people who don’t want to visit Choco because they imagine it as a poverty stricken place full of starving people. True, Colombia is far from peaceful, Choco is very poor and the south of Bogota is not the safest place; but this doesn’t mean that we are hopeless.

Furthermore, I have noticed that there may also be a kind of positive single story, which may also be a danger in the world, “The American Dream” being a prime example. The fact that the U.S is a prosperous country, doesn’t mean that everyone in it is rich and has two cars, a suburban home and a perfect family. This stereotype is, as all others, incomplete.

There is a single story about every country in the world, good or bad, and as this Ted Talk demonstrates: neither of them is good, yet we still fall. 

Oh the Horror!

“The horror! The horror!”

This phrase, repeated by Kurtz as a dying mantra, is the most famous quote taken from Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness. The reason behind its fame is the meaning behind it, for this quote is proof that short is in no way synonymous to simple.  Kurtz doesn’t give a final speech, in fact he doesn’t talk much in the whole novel (there is more talk done about him than by him) but he doesn’t need to. Even though he physically appears only in the last part of the book, even though he doesn’t say much, even though “Kurtz” is German for “short”, this character is the largest in the whole book. This character shows humanity, imperialism, lust, greed, and every other theme that is important in the story. Knowing this, only one question remains: what is the horror?

Is it the crimes committed against the Africans in the colony? As far as history is concerned, that could be the horror Kurtz is referring to. The colonization of Africa and the industry of ivory that was created from it are probably one of the most violent examples of colonization in recent history. The crimes in Africa ranged from murder to rape and torture. In the book they are shown since the first time Marlow sees an African, and continue throughout the story up to the skulls put up around Kurtz’s camp. This aspect of the novel is definitely a horror.

Is it the fact that no one in the “civilized” society did anything to stop it? When Marlow gets back to Europe, he talks about the people he finds when he gets back. He talks about not being able to relate to them anymore because he finds the petty and generally annoying. How is it that this could happen to someone who originally comes from that society? This could be related to what happens to many soldiers after they come back home from war, they no longer understand how people can live so peacefully and lounge around all day doing nothing in their comfortable beds, they can no longer understand why people complain about such trivial things as homework and cold food. The horror these people witness are so bad, that it is hard for someone who hasn’t seen it to believe it. You may think it sad that many native Africans were killed for something as materialistic as the ivory industry, but you will never grasp how bad it was until you see it. One of the biggest problems in the world is that no one sees what’s going on, and this is most certainly a horror.

Is it his intended, and the fact that she had no idea who he really was? When Marlow gets back to his native country and seeks out Kurtz’s intended, he lies to her about his final words, claiming that “it would have been too dark”  to tell her the truth. As he talks to her, it also becomes apparent that she had no idea who Kurtz really was. She had no idea who she was going to marry or what he had done. This, is also a horror.

Finally, is the horror the fact that we are reading this book, years later, trying to analyze irony and symbolism with no apparent care or feelings for what happened to the people in that colony? The fact that we are sitting here, writing blogs and searching for a deeper meaning without realizing that this actually happened, that people actually died, our continuous cycle of murder and claims for power even when history has shown us the consequences?

For some reason, I think it’s the last. 

"Oh light please try to hold your ground..."

In the song above, Rachel Sermanni tells the story of a woman who is caught when the darkness of her heart is at its most powerful moment.

“Mercy, mercy, I’ve been caught lying with my darkest thought.” As I continue reading Heart of Darkness, I have begun to discover what is behind the title of the novel, and why this meaning is so crucial to the understanding of the book.  One of the interpretations that can be given to the title is literal: The Heart of Darkness is the center of the African wilderness they are trying to penetrate. Darkness in this case, would mean under-development, uncivilized people, wilderness, and literal darkness within the forest. The second interpretation of the title is, to me, much more important to the work. The Heart of Darkness is the heart of every single person within the story; it is the heart of anyone reading the story as well. The song Fog by Rachel Sermanni delves into the same aspect of humanity and how each person reacts to different circumstances. This song and the book are exploring the dark side of the human heart, and what conditions are needed for us to act on its impulses rather than on our lighter, rational thoughts.

“He’d be richer if he just became a thief,” says Sermanni of a little boy that sings for money in the streets of her neighborhood. At the beginning of Part 2 of Heart of Darkness, Marlow eavesdrops on a conversation in which it is revealed that The Company believes Kurtz is stealing Ivory. When we relate this conversation to the song, a new question begins to form inside our heads: Is Kurtz and evil person, or are his circumstances forcing him to act upon his darker impulses?  Abandoned in the African country, it is impossible to think that Kurtz would remain completely sane, and thus he cannot be qualified as a “bad guy” in the book.

The African natives are also in a situation in which they have been forced to attack colonizers because of the damage they have done to their lives. As they become more and more human to Marlow, the Africans become more “right” in the reader’s eyes. After all, who would not fight back in that situation?

Furthermore, there is no way to even understand who the “bad guys” are in the novel, mostly because Conrad has made the line murky. Kurtz is evil to The Company and to the natives, because of what he has done in Africa and the success he’s having. The Company is evil to the African natives because it has conquered their land. The natives are evil to The Company because they are rebelling against their rule and attacking them from within the fog. Western civilization is evil to us as we read the book because no one does anything about the brutality in Africa. And on and on it goes.

How can right and wrong be defined? In reality, it all depends on point of view. The only thing we can be sure of as we continue to read this novel, is that there are certain circumstances, like the one Kurtz is in; like the one of the oppressed natives; and like the one of all the colonizers, in which acting on rational thoughts and looking for the light within the human heart is impossible.

“The din creeps ‘neath my skin and I can’t hear no goodness speak.” 

The Kernel.

When speaking of Marlow, the unnamed narrator in Heart of Darkness says: “… to him the meaning of an episode was not inside like a kernel but outside…” (pg. 6) With this, the mystery narrator is explaining Marlow as a human being, but he is also explaining the idea of the book as a whole. To judge something accurately, one needs to bring oneself out of the situation and look at the problem from an outside point of view. This parallel between a personal problem and a worldwide concern is probably what Conrad was aiming for when he added an unnamed narrator in the first place, especially considering that Marlow narrates the story we are focusing on: the conquest of the Congo and the search for ivory. The unnamed narrator, I believe, is there to draw a parallel between Africa and Europe, The Congo and the Thames, the white men and the black men; the wild and the cities. Knowing only the story that takes place in Africa, we would never understand the meaning of the novel.

The description of the Thames in the first pages of the book is one of the many examples of this parallelism which is so vital to the story. Conrad personifies the river as an ancient survivor of wars and different epochs. According to the nameless narrator, the Thames “… had known and served all the men of whom the nation is proud… It had borne all the ships whose names are like jewels.” (pg. 4) When we compare this to the description Marlow gives of the Congo the imagery and symbolism of the Congo’s description has more impact than it would standing alone. Even though they are both rivers, the Congo is described as a snake while the Thames is shown as an ancient wonder. The snake, more commonly associated with the biblical story of Adam and Eve, holds the connotation of a traitor, a sneak and a misleading informer. However different these two rivers are described, they both share qualities of mystery that make them eerily similar. These similarities may foreshadow what the Congo is bound to become, they may symbolize that the Thames is not as civilized or wondrous as it is depicted, but mostly they are important because they create a bridge between two very different worlds: imperialist Europe and free Africa. Would we see these without the unnamed narrator? Would the reader be able to make these connections without the early description of the Thames? Not really, and that is why the hidden narrator is so important.

Just as the book starts, Marlow is mentioned as the only character with a name. The rest of the men in the Nellie are nameless, just as our narrator is. I believe this comes from the same idea mentioned previously of isolating two points of view, one inside the kernel (Marlow’s trip) and one outside of it (the unnamed narrator). Marlow has a name because the story is his. Mr. Kurtz has a name because he is important to Marlow (this could also be a strong bit of foreshadowing hinting that Mr. Kurtz will play a big role in the story). Everyone else is just there to create a parallel, to give perspective. The rest of the characters, including the narrator, are an audience just as the reader is. They listen to Marlow’s story as the reader does, and they probably have different reactions and thoughts about it, like different readers do. They are the outside of the kernel that is so necessary to this novel, and we are right there with them. 

Shedding the Skin

Change is an everlasting part of life. Every day and second brings about change in governments, ideas, and cities. Most importantly, every day brings change in people. Humanity revolves around deviations and fluctuations, in fact, it survives because of them. Friederich Nietzsche once said that “the snake which cannot cast its skin has to die,” in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest by Ken Kesey, this phrase proves uncannily accurate.  As the novel reaches its ending, the change in every one of Kesey’s characters is evident in their dialogue, actions, and attitude. One of the changes that is worth highlighting, is the one Harding goes through since McMurphy enters the ward, not only because it’s less obvious than that of the rest of the Acutes, but also because it’s one of the most significant. Throughout the novel, Harding progresses from being a rabbit to a full-fledged man. How does a change so impressive take place? Really, it’s all about knowing where the power lies, and what must be done to subsist.

“…we’re all here because we can’t adjust to our rabbithood. We need a good strong wolf like the nurse to teach us our place.” (pg. 58) When Harding mentions this in the first pages of the book, he is convinced that the power in the ward lies in the hands of the nurse, and that he needs her presence in order to go through life. The problem with his theory at this point is that he hasn’t accepted who he is.  Being a homosexual in the 1950’s was regarded as an abnormality, it was even condemned a sickness by many people around the globe. As the book progresses, one comes to realize that this ‘sickness’ is exactly the reason Harding is in the ward in the first place. At the beginning of the book, Harding is a closeted homosexual who is looking for guidance. He is a self-proclaimed rabbit, seeking cover from society’s insults. Mainly, he’s hiding from shame.

When he discovers this, McMurphy maneuvers through Harding’s fears and guilt, slowly showing him that power within the ward is actually in the patient’s hands; convincing him that the nurse isn’t necessary to guide his way. By the time the fishing trip takes place, Harding’s hypothesis about wolves and rabbits is annulled when he says: “”Never before did I realize that mental madness could have the aspect of power, power. Think of it: perhaps the more insane a man is, the more powerful he could become. Hitler an example. Fair makes the old brain reel, doesn’t it? Food for thought there.” (pg. 204)  

That quote; that single moment in the book, is when Harding sheds his snake skin and lives again. It is when he utters those five sentences that he becomes a man, ready to govern himself and accept the fact that he’s not insane: he’s just “different,” as he claims to be in page 246.

If he hadn’t shed his skin, if he hadn’t been pushed along by McMurphy to embrace change in his life, where would Harding end? Probably in the ward … thoroughly convinced of his rabbithood and impotence… refusing to live. But he did shed the skin, and he was pushed along, and for those reasons, Harding gains power of himself and his choices. He changes his mentality and accepts who he is in order to subsist within society.

“…they are sick men now. No more rabbits Mack.” (pg.204) 

Big brother vs. The Big Nurse

It often strikes me how similar One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest and 1984 by George Orwell are, not only in the dystopia they create, the use of “the hate” as a state of being, the creation of a bigger movement which seems to rule everything from a distance (In Orwell’s case “The Party” and in Kesey’s case “The Combine”), but also in the god-like figure that rules the previously mentioned dystopia. The Big Nurse has no feeling of pity or pain, or anything. In many ways she is exactly like Big Brother in Orwell’s novel: she’s always watching, she inspires fear without really punishing people outright, and she controls everything. There is however, one difference between her and Big Brother that makes her all the more intimidating: she’s real.

In Orwell’s book, Big Brother isn’t really a person. As an image, he can be everywhere and manage everything, without explicitly existing. This may seem daunting at first, having an imaginary entity watching over you, but overall, actually knowing that the physical being is lurking around ready to pounce makes the Big Nurse frightening. She has more direct presence in the patients’ life than Big Brother does in 1984’s citizens. Furthermore, Big Brother lacks the feminine intrigue that Nurse Ratched offers the role.   With the character being a woman, come many different types of intimidation than a man can attempt.

Oscar Wilde once said: “A man’s face is his autobiography. A woman’s face is her work of fiction.”  Women have always been a mystery to men, or at least that’s what many of the men I know have told me. In a woman, a smile can mean happiness, but it can also be resentful, angry, warning, sarcastic, etc. All in all, women pose enigmas men will never be able to figure out. Why is this worse than the image of Big Brother? Basically because a man being emasculated by a woman is, by far, more humiliating than a woman being intimidated by a man. The fear of humiliation in every patient’s life makes them feel insignificant, and, being unable to figure out what the nurse is thinking, they are often at loss as to how they are expected to react. Moreover, a man tends to be attracted by women, and not being able to get the Big Nurse’s attention in any way brings the interns’ confidence even lower.

“I couldn’t get it up over old frozen face in there even if she had the beauty of Marilyn Monroe.” Pg.64

Why are women so much more intriguing to men than men are to women? It’s probably because women are usually harder to figure out, more complicated, harsh, easy to anger and hard to calm down. A man is born with respect just because of the fact that he is a man, a woman is taught the hard way to demand respect, and nothing is more intimidating than a woman with power. Maybe this is why Kesey chose a woman for his god-like role, maybe he realized than a bunch of men being controlled by one powerful woman provided a certain tension and humiliation that wouldn’t be created if the leader was a man. Does this mean that his all-powerful being is better than Orwell’s? No. Does it mean that it is scarier? Yes.

Definitely yes. 

Hidden for the Best

“I see a lot of fog and a few lights. I like it when life’s hidden. It gives you a chance to imagine nice things, nicer than they are. “
- Ben Hecht

As we progress through the madness that is One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, we begin to realize that the Chief isn’t really as crazy as he seems, it’s more like he just happens to be caught in the middle of an insane situation. Throughout the story, small moments make the reader question whether he is a reliable narrator. In the end, I believe he is. Exaggerations non-withstanding, I believe he is narrating the very messed-up reality he happens to be living. One of the most questionable aspects of this narrator is his description of “the fog” which appears in the ward when he is tense or scared. As I read I realized that the phrase above could easily be said by the Chief in the moments when said “fog” consumes him. To him, it is very clear what “the fog” is and what it means, but to the reader…

What is this “fog” that seems so important and pacifying in the brittle mind of our narrator?

At some point, I got to thinking that the fog could be a drug used on the patients of the ward to blur their memories, making them susceptible to any punishment the Big Nurse decides they deserve. This hypothesis is supported by the Chief on page 7 when he states that the two black helpers “...start the fog machine again…” A drug is to me, a very plausible theory for the fog because it provides an explanation to the calming and memory effects this phenomenon has. There are however, other possible explanations to this specific symbol in Kesey’s book. It could mean peace of mind; it could represent a person’s sense of security; or more significantly, it could symbolize mankind’s tendency to turn a blind eye to the most horrible events in the world. In the book, the fog usually shows itself when the Chief feels uncomfortable, scared, or tense; showing that the last meaning for the fog could be very accurate. As human beings we shy away from all of the previously mentioned feelings, preferring to turn our heads and walk away rather than to face them, locking ourselves away in a world where, like the quote at the beginning of this post states: everything seems better than it is.

Whatever “the fog” truly signifies may be clarified in later pages, or maybe it will never be fully explained, left open to every reader’s interpretation. In any case, whatever it represents is a safety valve for the Chief. After he’s consumed by the fog, he seems more peaceful, calm. When he is enveloped by the fog, to the Chief, “…life’s hidden.”

God?

 “Vladimir: This is becoming really insignificant.
   Estragon: Not enough.” (pg. 76)

What happens when every day seems to blur together, and suddenly you can’t really find the difference between yesterday and today? Even though I have never been as frustrated as the two main characters in Waiting for Godot, I have come to realize that most things we do on a daily basis aren’t significant at all. Furthermore, we constantly seem to be working towards monotony, making everything even less significant than it already was. Just as the two main characters in the play, I have wondered at the reason why we keep working the way we do. It reminds me of the Myth of Sisyphus, and how we strive to do the same thing every day without fail.

Why do we continue working towards nothing? Every day seems to be a repetition of the quotation above, in which we realize that nothing matters, yet we do it. Apparently, it still matters too much.

 The fact that these two men, Vladimir and Estragon, are waiting for Godot is very relevant in the long run of the text. Not only because it dictates the reason that they are still in the same place, but because of what this “Godot” symbolizes. God. Is there really such a thing as a powerful being guiding us through life, or are we just like Estragon and Vladimir, who wait incessantly for him even though he never shows?

“Estragon: And if we dropped him? (Pause.) If we dropped him?
  Vladimir: He’d punish us.” (pg. 107)

Are we really that hopeless? Are we really so insecure in what we are that we wait every single day for a figure which never shows itself in our life? Some say that God is the reason why some people have so much more than others, that this is why we should be thankful. I am thankful, every single day I realize how lucky I have been. But if this is an act of God, why are other people in such bad conditions? If there was a God, wouldn’t people like Estragon and Vladimir, poor and homeless, be better off?

In the end, this book symbolizes the emptiness of every man’s life, and it ridicules our ceaseless search for meaning. It stresses the fact that God has never shown itself and never will. Overall, it could be argued that this book is simply depressing.

 For some reason, I just think it’s realistic. 

The Absurdity of it All

Existence is essentially absurd. This statement may seem radical to certain people, especially those who go through life looking for a reason why they should be doing so.  In the end “…it makes little difference whether one dies at the age of thirty or threescore and ten- since, in either case, other men and women will continue living, the world will go on as before.” (pg. 71)

This however, doesn’t mean that we must go through life without making any personal attachments. Like Mersault, one is allowed to think of life as a bizarre thing which has no purpose other than our own amusement, and still feel love. This is what Mersault did. He felt love. Even if the character never accepts it, the love he felt for his mother actually began the sequence of events that led to his death.

Many people don’t believe that there was any love in Camu’s character, but the novel itself disproves this hypothesis when the character explains his train of thoughts as he killed the Arab. “It was just the same sort of heat as at my mother’s funeral, and I had the same disagreeable sensations…”  (pg. 38) he says. This past statement proves, not only that Mersault did love his mother and felt badly in her funeral (even if he didn’t weep), but also that an existentialist lifestyle doesn’t necessarily imply a stoic life.

I value my life because it is my one chance to create something amazing, it is the one opportunity I have to try and make it into the scant pages of world history that seem to matter to the human race. The truth is that I probably won’t achieve it. How many Albert Einstein’s exist?

Throughout history we can see various examples of people who, like this acclaimed physicist, made something no one had ever seen before, but, in comparison to the vast amount of people who have gone through their lives without doing anything remarkable, these people are almost non-existent. I am all for finding a meaning within yourself, even if life as a whole never offers one, because with a meaning within us, we can at least enjoy those few moments we have.

Life is a completely random set of events which eventually leads to death. There is nothing more to it, and thus it has no meaning. There is really no point in everyday life, but, as long as you enjoy the meaningless wonders it offers, the absurdity of it all need not make it any less worth living. 

The Feelings and the Man

Thus far, if anyone had asked me to describe the main character of The Stranger, I would have merely characterized him as an uncanny sort of man. The sort of man that seems to be slightly socially awkward, mostly because he is so drastically different from what society has come to tag as a “normal person.” In fact, before now, I had never considered a backstory for him.

Why is Mersault the way he is? Could it possibly be just his personality, or is there more to this character?

Whilst reading the past four chapters of the book, it finally came into my head (granted, it came a bit late) that there is a very specific reason that the book is called The Stranger. As readers, we don’t know anything about Mersault. His tendencies to think of only the present and the fact that the novel is narrated in first person both make it almost impossible to get to know the character. In the fifth chapter however, one hint is finally dropped as to what his past was like. The hint doesn’t help us understand Mersault better at all; mostly, it just makes him more of a puzzle. The allusion to this odd character’s life raises more questions than it answers.

“I returned to work. I’d have preferred not to vex him, but I saw no reason for ‘changing my life.’ By and large it wasn’t an unpleasant one. As a student I’d had plenty of ambition of the kind he meant. But, when I had to drop my studies, I very soon realized all that was pretty futile.” (The Stranger, pg. 28)

First of all, the quote conveys the fact that Mersault was a student once, although it doesn’t broaden on the subject, leaving the reader wondering whether he dropped out of high school, college, or even middle school. Moreover, the biggest dilemma is brought forward with the word “had.” It turns out that the character was forced to drop his studies and forget his ambitions. This detail hints at Mersault actually being hurt or bitter about something in his past, giving way to the hypothesis I made in my last blog post about the existential way of thinking being a tactic to avoid disappointment.

After reading this in the fifth chapter, my point of view on the character changed, making him seem more human in my eyes. Finally, there is at least a hint that he cares just as much as the rest of us do. Furthermore, I noticed that at the beginning of the sixth chapter, when the character states that “It was an effort waking up that Sunday morning” (The Stranger, pg. 32) he gives no particular reason as to why it cost him so much trouble. There is no point in the previous scenes in which the character drinks or does anything that might make his waking up harder. At that moment, all I could think of was my recent realization that Mersault is actually a man after all, and it came to my head that the prior day had been quite hectic for one who tries not to feel.

Firstly, he was reminded of his past life: a life in which he probably had a promising future and hopes for how it may turn out. Soon after the past life incident, he was asked to be married by the girl he subconsciously loves, even if he refuses to admit it. All in all, it is enough to make a person who is used to feeling nothing become a complete turmoil.

After finally determining this, I find that the quote I shared above actually unravels the story and the character at once. It shows that the character does have feelings, even if they are buried down under layer upon layer of resentment and self-preservation; but it also proposes a reason to the killing which happens later in the story. Mersault didn’t want to kill the Arab; he sees no meaning in dying anyway so there would be no point to that. Mersault wanted to kill his past. Mostly because everything was so much simpler two days before, when he wasn’t reminded of his preceding dissatisfactions or asked to compromise in marriage. 

What does it mean?

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, German writer and philosopher wrote in his book The Sorrows of Young Werther that “The human race is a monotonous affair. Most people spend the greatest part of their time working in order to live, and what little freedom remains so fills them with fear that they seek out any and every means to be rid of it.” This idea is reflected throughout The Stranger, novel by the controversial author Albert Camus. The main character within this book is not necessarily hiding from freedom because of fear, but mostly he shies away from it because of the existentialist belief that it will all be meaningless anyway. Even though the reason for the lack of freedom in Goethe’s phrase and in the novel is different, they have in common that they represent a monotonous reality which has no specific meaning. A reality which is completely fruitless; one in which consequences are not even considered, because they won’t mean anything anyway.

“I wrote the letter. I didn’t take much trouble over it, but I wanted to satisfy Raymond, as I’d no reason not to satisfy him.” (The Stranger, pg. 22)

For an existentialist, the only moment which carries any weight is the moment they are in. This is the reason why M. Mersault doesn’t give any specific thought to the idea of writing a letter for his friend, even if it may lead to trouble. As far as he is concerned, there is no reason not to do it right now, so he does it. Many would say that the mind of an existentialist is a simple place, given that there is no caution or particular hope to achieve anything. In many ways, this character created by Camus seems stoic or even selfish at times, in fact, in order to go through the book without coming to resent the character, one must understand that his actions are born, not from pomposity, but from not caring at all. The truth is, the mind of an existentialist is, to me, not a simple place at all. Mostly I believe that existentialism tends to be a method of self-preservation. If there is no meaning to life, then there is no reason to be disappointed by what it may bring, seeing as it won’t matter.

An existentialist existence must be a rather depressing way of life. Mainly because assuming that nothing matters means that all passion and feeling are sucked from life. This can be seen in the first four chapters of the story as it can be seen in the phrase above. Instead of asking themselves why life is worth it or why they should do something (in which case the answers would be: “because it matters”, “because I care”, or even “because I want to”) existentialists go through every day asking themselves why not do it. Why would it mean anything at all? In my opinion, being at either end is plain unhealthy. Always asking yourself why you should do something may lead to an over calculating person who doesn’t enjoy life, but always asking why not, may lead to someone who doesn’t appreciate it.

“It occurred to me that somehow I’d got through another Sunday, that Mother now was buried, and tomorrow I’d be going back to work as usual. Really, nothing in my life had changed.” (The Stranger, pg. 17)

This past phrase puts the whole existentialist movement into perspective. A perspective that actually makes one question the meaning of life as a whole. Mostly because it is the truth laid out in the rawest way possible.  What happens when someone close to you dies?

We’d all like to say that life changes, that suddenly we see something clearer or find a new meaning to it all. Really that never happens.

Sure, we may miss the person for a while. We will always have our moments in which we think back at how much they meant to us. But our world keeps turning. We keep going to school and work, we continue to follow the same schedule as before, we continue living in exactly the same way as we did when they were alive. So what is the meaning of life?

If nothing will really change when we are gone, if we will all be eventually forgotten, what is the point?

It is at this moment that I find myself at a crossroad.

See, I don’t believe there is a point at all. We live for a while, we have fun, and then we die. My life has no particular meaning in the world, and neither does anyone’s. Yet, I don’t think we should abandon all hope and passion because of this. After all, even if it is irrelevant in the end, I might as well enjoy the bit of irrelevance that has brought me here no?

My life may not have a meaning in the whole order of the universe, but it is important to me. And unlike an existentialist, I would quite like to do something with the bit of essence I was granted with. A walking body that doesn’t care about anything at all wouldn’t suit me, I think. 

Color, Irony, and Symbolism

"Daisy and Jordan lay upon an enormous couch, like silver idols weighing down their own white dresses against the singing breeze of the fans." 

(Chapter 7) 

Most of the color references in The Great Gatsby are meant to show the character, or society as they truly are. This example can be seen in the name "Daisy" or the word choice when naming the towns "West Egg" and "East Egg".  These items are all white on the outside, seemingly implying purity. They are however, bright yellow in the center, implying arrogance and superficiality. The yellow can also be taken as an allusion to gold, which ultimately defines the society of the roaring twenties so cleverly portrayed by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Furthermore, the white daisy is supposed to be the symbol of loyal love, which makes the naming of the character ironic as well as symbolic. 

In the quotation above, the color carries as much importance as it does in the rest of the book. Giving the reader input on what each character symbolizes. 

Silver is commonly known as a representation for wealth along with gold. This is obviously important, but personally, I believe silver may also represent other things relevant to the story and the overall meaning in the book. The color silver is also related to femininity and female power, which in the abstract from the book, can be seen clearly, specially when the two women are referred to as "idols". 

Silver can also be a way to represent illusion, which could mean that these two "idols" are really a lie,  much like the Daisy metaphor already suggests. 

White on the other hand, is the color of purity and virginity. The irony in this lies in the fact that Daisy and Jordan were anything but virginal throughout the story. In fact, in chapter eight, the author removes all doubt of this when he writes: "It excited him, too, that many men had already loved Daisy-- it increased her value in his eyes." The significance of the color white is increased when one considers the position the color currently occupies: it is being weighed down by the silver. Meaning that all the illusions, power, and femininity are utterly trouncing all the purity left in women of the 1920's. 

All in all, this sentence, though seemingly inconsequential in the meaning of the book as a whole, actually symbolizes women (or at least women the way F. Scott Fitzgerald saw them) in the society of the roaring twenties.