I'm assigned to speak in class about the second half of Endgame, so I'm going to build the structure for that discussion here.
Throughout the play, Hamm wants "this" or "it" to end. Presumably, his existence. His caretaker, Clov, is in general agreement with him and also wants to leave him, but can't. Clov constantly drops lines that suggest his imminent departure.
On page 46, Hamm and Clov are discussing how Hamm will know that Clov has actually left him. Clov suggests that, when Hamm whistles for him and he doesn't come, it means Clov has gone. "But you might be merely dead in your kitchen," Hamm objects, which leads to this exchange.
CLOV: Well… sooner or later I'd start to stink.
HAMM: You stink already. The whole place stinks of corpses.
CLOV: The whole universe.
Hamm and Clov are living in a grave. The only question is whether the death they're concerned about is physical death or some other kind. Death of the mind? Death of the soul? Death of hope? Death of meaning? And is Beckett suggesting that, even absent these things, we go on existing. But the question becomes, what's the point? I think Beckett's stories and plays struggle with that very question.
Insistent that Clov find a way to let Hamm determine if he is either dead or gone. "An idea," he demands. "Have an idea," echoing Pozzo's demand of Lucky to "Think, pig! Think!" as if ordering someone to come up with an idea will produce it. Clov paces for a while, thinking, and complains that his legs hurt and,"Soon I won't be able to think any more." Hamm replies, "You won't be able to leave me." Apparently this is incentive enough because Clov resumes pacing and eventually comes up with (a totally ineffective) idea that Hamm eventually accepts.
The thing that struck me about this set of lines, besides the obvious parallels between Hamm/Clov and Pozzo/Lucky, was the implication that Clov is not eternally incapable of leaving Hamm, just isn't able to leave yet. In some ways, I wonder if Hamm, here and throughout the play, isn't pushing Clov towards a level of "maturity" that will allow him to leave. Maybe the thing Hamm wants to end is his relationship with Clov. Maybe the thing he wants is solitude – perhaps so he can end (which will surely happen without Clov), or perhaps just solitude.
On page 50, just before he starts the story (which he calls an "audition" and for which he requires an audience), Hamm says, "Something dripping in my head, ever since the fontanelles." The "something dripping" refers to page 18 where Hamm says he has a heart dripping in his head – not beating, dripping, meaning it is dead and bleeding.
Initially we might think this means Hamm is having or has had a stroke or some other kind of brain bleed. But here he says the dripping has been going on "ever since the fontanelles." The fontanelles are the soft spots in an infant's skull that eventually close as the child matures (though, it may be worth noting that there is a congenital defect that causes some children's anterior fontanelle to close late or never). This suggests that the dripping has been going on in Hamm's head since he was an infant, so a traditional stroke seems unlikely. Instead, it suggests that this problem, this bleeding of whatever sort (Blood? Ideas? Thought? Something else?) has been a permanent feature of Hamm's life.
Hamm tells the story of a man who came to him wanting food for his son and, in the course of it, says, "It was an extra-ordinarily bitter day… But considering it was Christmas Eve there was nothing… extra-ordinary about that. Seasonable weather, for once in a way." This mirrors a line from "First Love" where the narrator says, "It was December already, if not January, and the cold was seasonable…". Eventually , we suspect this might be the story of how he came to have Clov as he suggests that, instead of giving the man food, the man work for him. The man asks him to "take in the child."
Hamm stops the story, but resumes it later in the play on page 83, where the stage direction says, "Narrative tone." Hamm tells the man he should abandon the child. "You want him to bloom while you are withering?" Hamm asks, as if it is wrong. "Be there to solace your last million last moments?" Selfishness is the only motive he can imagine. "He doesn't realize, all he knows is hunger, and cold, and death to crown it all. But you! You ought to know what the earth is like, nowadays." Hamm suggests that watching his father's decline is worse that hunger, cold and death. Or maybe it's the hint of hope the man hopes Hamm will offer his son that is, in Hamm's mind, so terrible. Is he saying, "The evils of Pandora's jar have free reign, let us not also loose hope upon your son." Is he saying he prefers hopelessness?
Throughout this final monologue, Clov is standing silent, dressed to leave, watching Hamm. The play ends with Hamm thinking he is alone except for the bloody handkerchief he places over his face, but with Clov still watching him. In the end, Clov is prepared to leave, but hasn't.
24 September 2008
15 September 2008
ENG4013 - Desire
Last week, the B&R chapter was about narrative, but Dr. M forgot to give us questions. I'll follow up with notes from class later.
This week, the B&R chapter is about desire. Dr. M gave us the following questions to consider while reading.
Freud says desire is incompatible with satisfaction. B&R elaborate on this when they discuss Lacan's extensions of Freud. Freud's position seems to be based on his theory that desire is mobile -- that it shifts objects over time. Whenever we get what we want, we no longer want it (because we have it -- "want" may also mean "lack"), hence we no longer desire it. Desire moves on to another object.
I think the real-world application may be a little more subtle. Let's say we find an object that sates our current desire, but as time goes by, what was once "enough" will become boring. Desire shifts to want something more or different. Unless the object can change or innovate to follow our desire, we will move on to a new object that can. My modification of Freud would be that desire can be satisfied and generate a new desire that keeps the desirer and desired together until the desired no longer satisfies the desirer or can no longer change to satisfy the changed desire, at which point the desirer will search for a new object that satisfies the desire.
For example, consider this little story. A new book by Joe's favorite author is due out in six months. Joe really liked this author's previous books. Joe desires the book. He's all over it, reading about it online, looking at advance reviews, pre-ordering at his local bookstore (because he can't wait for shipping time from Amazon), standing in line at midnight to buy it. He rushes home and reads it through in one sitting. It's great.
So here's the question. How long before he reads it the second time? Or how long before he reads it the tenth time? Does he even read it ten times? Does he keep the book forever? Or does he sell it to his local used bookstore few months later? Computers, cars, cell phones, apartments, jobs, favorite restaurants and sexual partners are other examples that follow the same basic pattern. Unless a new desire spawns from the original desire, fulfillment of the desire will eventually lead to boredom and abandonment of the object.
The idea that desire is imitative is based on arguments by Sedgwick . She says that desire is always a triangular structure with two parties desiring the same object and imitating each other, even in rivalry. In other words, it isn't that either A or C desire B because B is desirable, it is because C desires B that A wants B.
Personally, I find this falling into the chicken-and-egg dilemma. B was born at some point in time. At some point, no one desired B. Someone has to desire B first, but by Sedgwick's argument, that can never happen because no one desires B and for someone to desire B, someone else must desire B first and that person, by definition of "first", cannot be basing their desire on some other person's desire because there is no one to imitate. From a literary perspective, however, we rarely come in at the beginning of time, so from a purely literary perspective it is not entirely unreasonable to suggest that desire-triangles roughly follow this pattern. I think Dr. M will need to explain this a little more and deal with the holes I see before I buy this.
Homosocial desire is desire for "people like me" – which is basically what "homosocial" means. This feeds into the imitative desire idea to some extent because it explains the significance of rivalry and the kinds of respect-for-rival or rival-as-friend relationships that can develop (at least in some literature, maybe even in real life). Sedgwick also notes that certain prototypically male enclaves, such as locker rooms and board rooms, are homosocial environments. It's important to note that this desire is for the association, not necessarily sexual – usually cannot be sexual and still truly be homosocial desire. The final conclusion of Sedgwick's argument is that, in the "triangular relationship" scenario, the important relationship is between the two men, not between either of the men and the woman, and the woman is just a "token of exchange" (object) to the two men.
Of course, it seems to me that Sedgwick ignores the literature that reverses the situation with two women fighting for a man. Also, how does this play out in homosexual literature where all three characters can the same gender? In other words, while I see the basic logic behind Sedgwick's (feminist) interpretation, I think she's letting her feminism lead her to express her conclusion in a sexist way. The more proper expression would be to suggest that the object of desire becomes exactly that, an object and a token of exchange between the two desirers, regardless of the characters' genders. Sedgwick's discussion also seems to ignore the case where the object of desire is not human. For example, if the desire is to win a race or to excel in school in which case there may be multiple rivals and the objectification of the object isn't necessarily bad. And, yes, there are plenty of stories out there where this is the case.
So, that wraps up the discussion of B&R's Desire chapter. I need to get back to Beckett and trying to figure out "The Calmative".
This week, the B&R chapter is about desire. Dr. M gave us the following questions to consider while reading.
- B&R cite Freud saying desire is incompatible with satisfaction. Explain why and how?
- B&R contend that desire is always imitative. How?
- B&R present Sedgwick's ideas about homosocial desire. Define and explain the significance and implications.
Freud says desire is incompatible with satisfaction. B&R elaborate on this when they discuss Lacan's extensions of Freud. Freud's position seems to be based on his theory that desire is mobile -- that it shifts objects over time. Whenever we get what we want, we no longer want it (because we have it -- "want" may also mean "lack"), hence we no longer desire it. Desire moves on to another object.
I think the real-world application may be a little more subtle. Let's say we find an object that sates our current desire, but as time goes by, what was once "enough" will become boring. Desire shifts to want something more or different. Unless the object can change or innovate to follow our desire, we will move on to a new object that can. My modification of Freud would be that desire can be satisfied and generate a new desire that keeps the desirer and desired together until the desired no longer satisfies the desirer or can no longer change to satisfy the changed desire, at which point the desirer will search for a new object that satisfies the desire.
For example, consider this little story. A new book by Joe's favorite author is due out in six months. Joe really liked this author's previous books. Joe desires the book. He's all over it, reading about it online, looking at advance reviews, pre-ordering at his local bookstore (because he can't wait for shipping time from Amazon), standing in line at midnight to buy it. He rushes home and reads it through in one sitting. It's great.
So here's the question. How long before he reads it the second time? Or how long before he reads it the tenth time? Does he even read it ten times? Does he keep the book forever? Or does he sell it to his local used bookstore few months later? Computers, cars, cell phones, apartments, jobs, favorite restaurants and sexual partners are other examples that follow the same basic pattern. Unless a new desire spawns from the original desire, fulfillment of the desire will eventually lead to boredom and abandonment of the object.
The idea that desire is imitative is based on arguments by Sedgwick . She says that desire is always a triangular structure with two parties desiring the same object and imitating each other, even in rivalry. In other words, it isn't that either A or C desire B because B is desirable, it is because C desires B that A wants B.
Personally, I find this falling into the chicken-and-egg dilemma. B was born at some point in time. At some point, no one desired B. Someone has to desire B first, but by Sedgwick's argument, that can never happen because no one desires B and for someone to desire B, someone else must desire B first and that person, by definition of "first", cannot be basing their desire on some other person's desire because there is no one to imitate. From a literary perspective, however, we rarely come in at the beginning of time, so from a purely literary perspective it is not entirely unreasonable to suggest that desire-triangles roughly follow this pattern. I think Dr. M will need to explain this a little more and deal with the holes I see before I buy this.
Homosocial desire is desire for "people like me" – which is basically what "homosocial" means. This feeds into the imitative desire idea to some extent because it explains the significance of rivalry and the kinds of respect-for-rival or rival-as-friend relationships that can develop (at least in some literature, maybe even in real life). Sedgwick also notes that certain prototypically male enclaves, such as locker rooms and board rooms, are homosocial environments. It's important to note that this desire is for the association, not necessarily sexual – usually cannot be sexual and still truly be homosocial desire. The final conclusion of Sedgwick's argument is that, in the "triangular relationship" scenario, the important relationship is between the two men, not between either of the men and the woman, and the woman is just a "token of exchange" (object) to the two men.
Of course, it seems to me that Sedgwick ignores the literature that reverses the situation with two women fighting for a man. Also, how does this play out in homosexual literature where all three characters can the same gender? In other words, while I see the basic logic behind Sedgwick's (feminist) interpretation, I think she's letting her feminism lead her to express her conclusion in a sexist way. The more proper expression would be to suggest that the object of desire becomes exactly that, an object and a token of exchange between the two desirers, regardless of the characters' genders. Sedgwick's discussion also seems to ignore the case where the object of desire is not human. For example, if the desire is to win a race or to excel in school in which case there may be multiple rivals and the objectification of the object isn't necessarily bad. And, yes, there are plenty of stories out there where this is the case.
So, that wraps up the discussion of B&R's Desire chapter. I need to get back to Beckett and trying to figure out "The Calmative".
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