Sunday, November 18, 2012

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. 

Saturday, October 20, 2012

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) 

Monday, October 1, 2012

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.”