After reading Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness for a few weeks, one would generally not be extremely excited to explore yet another short colonization novel that takes place around the turn of the century; however, after only reading three chapters, I can honestly say I am surprised to find I thoroughly enjoy J.M. Coetzee's Waiting for the Barbarians. Given the long, tedious, and often tangential narration of Conrad's novel and considering the fact the curriculum intends for us to compare the two books, I found myself not at all apprehensive about reading Coetzee's story and constantly procrastinating on the completion of the assignment. Yet, as I began reading, I honestly could not put it down. One of the first things that jumped out at me is simply the style in which Coetzee writes. Using prose, colloquial language and a vivid present tense, the style of the book's narration creates a very captivating discussion effect, as if the Magistrate is actually with you face-to-face, telling you his story. For example, in the very first paragraph of the novel, the book opens with "I have never seen anything like it: two little discs of glass suspended in front of his eyes in loops of wire. Is he blind? I could understand it if he wanted to hide blind eyes. But he is not blind," and thus creating a clear thought dialogue that the reader instantly attaches him or herself to. In fact, this style is relatively similar to that of Marlow's narration in Conrad's book, but without the tedious and somewhat overzealous descriptions.
Furthermore, I was also drawn into the book by the magistrate's character, a quite right-minded man who to seems very sexually-focused as well. The first time we see him, we immediately notice his rather unorthodox position toward Colonel Joll's treatment of the natives. Given the fact the novel takes place around the turn of the century and that we get the impression the magistrate is white, the view he takes is extremely admirable and righteous. When Joll moves to capture as many natives as possible and torture them for answers into the whereabouts of the barbarian forces and the plans to their rumored revolution, the magistrate expresses opposition and feeds, provides doctors, and otherwise supports their well-being and ultimate return to their native lands. Yet, for reasons probably deliberately withheld from the reader, he cannot fully exercise enough power to shoot down the colonel's orders and, at least while he is there, prisoners are still taken and horrendous torture is carried out in their interrogations.
On the other hand, the magistrate also becomes an interesting character because of his intense sexual desires and his apparent love for the ex-prisoner that is now his servant. The fact that he is such an old man but is still sexually driven, sleeping with twenty-year-old girls and the native one, essentially shocks the reader, bringing him or her closer into the book with the hope of discovering more shocking details. As his makeshift love story ensues, the odd nature of it keeps us enthralled and the relative ups and downs of the relationship, from their physical break to his actually sleeping with her, helps the book to move forward fast.
In regards to the story itself, it was simply the weirdness of it that kept me reading. Its essentially a story of an old, white, and politically-powerful governor in his colonial land falling in love with a blind, tortured, and ex-captive native girl who only became the magistrate's servant because he could not have beggars on the streets. This oddly captivating story thus makes you want to continue reading in hopes of discovering anything else that adds to the unusual plot. Thus, between the ease of reading, the interesting protagonist, and the shocking plot, Waiting for the Barbarians is one book I'm very interested to continue reading to see where it leads.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Notes Regarding "The Congo Diary" by Joseph Conrad (My Actual Assigned One)
--Attempts to portray a visual description of the Congo and the African landscape (p. 254)
--Tries to document everyday life in the Congo (how miserable it is, the people, the way the villages and European stations are set up, the living conditions, etc.)
--Various descriptions show the horrors of the colonization of Africa (about the dead bodies and skeletons, etc.)
--Racist tones (p. 255)
--p.260--tells of the African chief who brought a youth with a gunshot wound to the head into the station to receive medical care. Interesting.
--The descriptions of the first few days of the river journey sound like instructions meant for the use of later explorers; almost like a map of words.
--Tries to document everyday life in the Congo (how miserable it is, the people, the way the villages and European stations are set up, the living conditions, etc.)
--Various descriptions show the horrors of the colonization of Africa (about the dead bodies and skeletons, etc.)
--Racist tones (p. 255)
--p.260--tells of the African chief who brought a youth with a gunshot wound to the head into the station to receive medical care. Interesting.
--The descriptions of the first few days of the river journey sound like instructions meant for the use of later explorers; almost like a map of words.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Main Points Regarding the "Seclected Letters En Route to the Congo"
- Given reinforcing insight into the parallel connections between Conrad and his character Marlow
- Outlines Conrad's extensive journey prior to his departure for the Congo and who he visited with
- Reflections upon how Conrad felt prior to his departure (ie. his temperment and view on the risks involved with the journey and the job)
- Close connection with family
- Marguerite Poradowska--model for Marlow's aunt in the story
- Expresses those feelings of loyalty and love toward her in the second-to-last letter; she is too him a positive distraction from the problems within his life.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Closure in the Last Section of The Sound and The Fury
In William Faulkner's The Sound and the Fury, the fourth and last section of the novel delivers an interesting, but atypical conclusion to an already abnormal novel. Upon reading the last section, one might feel as if the novel ends incomplete and without resolution of the Compson family tragedy. Benjy is still treated more like a dog than as a human; Jason still runs the household with an iron fist; Mother remains the selfish, "o-so-pitiful" matriarch; and now both Caddy and Quentin are absent from the novel, after having escaped into the world outside Jefferson. Yet, while in the average story, this conclusion may be regarded as inconclusive, it is, in fact, the exact conclusion that Faulkner wants. According to Lawrence Edward Bowling, a professor at Kenyon College, "The Sound and the Fury is a novel about disorder, disintegration, and the absence of perspective" that is centered around "the internal chaos of the characters,--their intellectual, moral, and spiritual confusion" (Bowling 15). Thus, it is Faulkner's main intention to leave the reader with such a conclusion in order to reflect the chaos and disorder plaguing the family and that he views as his main theme. By leaving all the remaining characters in their current predicaments--Benjy screaming, Luster out of it, mother absent from the rest, and Jason as angry as ever--he effectively demonstrates that this order cannot be resolved and that three decades has done no good to help this chaotic family. Ultimately, on a larger scale, this ending, as well as the book as a whole, shows a tragic transformation of family from the nineteenth to the twentieth century and thus provides modernist critique of twentieth century life.
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