Into the Unknown

This class has changed a lot for me. That very first day (seems like so long ago, even though it’s really only been a couple months) as we went over the syllabus, I was both intrigued and terrified.  I was so excited to have Suzanne as a professor after all the good things I’d heard (literally the one piece of advice I’ve gotten the most since transferring to Otterbein in December of 2010 has been “TAKE ALL OF TAMMY BIRK AND SUZANNE ASHWORTH’S CLASSES. SERIOUSLY.”), but I was also nervous about the class in general, as I tend to be about most classes I take these days. 

Most people would never guess by looking at me, but I’m twenty four years old.  I graduated high school in 2005 and, even though I’ve always been a bit of a late bloomer, I went straight into college because I wanted to do what everyone my age else was doing.  I went to a small (VERY small) school, Holy Cross College in South Bend, Indiana. I ended up changing my major three times while I was there (from psychology to business to liberal arts) and finally, after being there almost a full 4 years, I hated the school, the professors, the curriculum, everything, and basically said GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE. I transferred to Otterbein because it’s close to home and also happens to be my mother’s Alma Mater, and I decided this time around, I’d be an English major. Since I was a tiny kid, I’ve always read voraciously. It’s one of my greatest passions. I also enjoy, and seem to be pretty good at writing.  I may not love the process of writing school essays, but I’m usually pretty good at it and, if I’m being honest, though I’m a slow writer, I actually find the process of putting a paper together quite fun at times. Anyway, I decided English would be a good option; it’s something I enjoy, something I knew I could do.  However, I find that even though I love to read and I know I’m a relatively intelligent human being, more often than not in my classes I feel like a complete moron.

My first fear was the blog assignment. Whereas so many of my fellow students are able to formulate incredible responses and thoughts both in class and in their writing, I struggle to come up with meaningful thoughts and key points in my readings and sometimes I really have no idea how some people are able to make sense of the things they do.  I also just suck at remembering to do a weekly assignment. I’ve never been very good at keeping a journal and after being in school so long I feel so worn down by it at times that I just get a little lazy. Anyway, my fear and dislike of the blog assignment became a self-fulfilling prophecy and as I reflect on this quarter, I can say without question that’s my greatest regret. If I had it to do over again, I would take it more seriously, not only for the sake of my grade, which I’ve accepted won’t be great, but also for my own benefit –both educational and personal.

Even with my mishaps, this class has proven to be an incredible learning experience for me.  Upon reading Walt Whitman’s “Song of Myself,” I came across a particularly powerful quotation that really spoke to me:

“What is known I strip away,
I launch all men and women forward with me into the Unknown.”

I think what makes it so powerful is that, this is exactly how I feel all the time. This basically sums up my thoughts on college, on changing majors, on every single class I’ve ever walked into.  Not only that, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to make it my life’s motto because it speaks to the creation of every single new chapter in the book that makes up a human life. What Whitman means is there is no simple answer.  To anything. With every new life choice, every new class, every new experience, I’m launching forward into the unknown.  One of the things I love most about English, is that, for the most part, it’s completely subjective. There’s no yes or no, no single correct answer. With every book, every piece of writing, you go hurtling into the unknown, completely free to draw your own conclusions. 

That first day of class, all of us were “launched forward into the unknown,” and I wasn’t quite sure where exactly the unknown would take me.  Reflecting back on the class, I think one of my favorite aspects was the use of contemporary and cultural connections. This isn’t a common teaching method in most English classes in my experience, and it completely blew me away.  Drawing connections between Lost and the beginnings of America or between Fight Club and In the Heart of the Sea, supplementing our understanding of The Scarlet Letter with the modernized version Easy A –all these things really enhanced my learning experience and a whole different dimension to the class for me.

I also have this class to thank for introducing me to the brilliance that is Stephen Asma. I’m most definitely putting a lot of his works at the top of my summer reading list. I loved the reading we did in class from his book On Monsters and the talk he gave was legitimately enthralling. I never go to class-required speakers expecting to be wowed, but this time I was proven wrong. I was literally captivated, both by his personal story and his discussions about Buddhism and monsters. And not only did I find the information incredibly fascinating, but it also gave me some interesting insights and starting points for making connections in all my classes.

I can honestly say that I was able to make some connections and draw some conclusions in my other classes that I never would have come to if it weren’t for this class. I can wholeheartedly say that I’ve enjoyed this class and come away feeling a lot more educated.  Though I screwed up and didn’t take things quite as seriously as I should have, would have in retrospect, I feel like I’ve come away from this class with valuable insights and I’m definitely changed for the better because of it.  No one is perfect, I’ll never claim to be and I’ll never even try to be.  I won’t always earn the best grade or make the best choices. I’ve screwed up many times in my life, and I know I’ll continue to until the day I die. But that’s the beauty of life –we’re constantly being launched into the unknown.  I much rather screw up all the time than live a dull, uneventful life. I don’t want that story. I don’t want Anne Sexton’s Cinderella story, where

           

Cinderella and the prince

            lived, they say, happily ever after,

            like two dolls in a museum case

            never bothered by diapers or dust,

            never arguing over the timing of an egg,

            never telling the same story twice,

            never getting a middle-aged spread,

            their darling smiles pasted on for eternity.

            Regular Bobbsey Twins.

            That story.

I’m not looking for boring perfection. I don’t want to live my life behind a glass case. I want my story to be messy and exciting and ever-changing. Here and now, I’m launching myself into the unknown, and I’m fully prepared to go wherever it takes me.

"To be a monster is to be an omen." - Stephen Asma

After reading Moby Dick, one of the things that really interested and stuck with me was the mention of Moby Dick’s “whiteness” and how it made the whale all the more terrible.  Melville writes “this elusive quality is, which causes the thought of whiteness, when divorced from more kindly associations, and coupled with any object terrible in itself, to heighten that terror to the furthest bounds.” This reminded me of a recent discussion from another English class about Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein as well as Asma’s discussion on monsters.

Things that are white are considered clean and pure, and whiteness is seen as symbol of virtue and nobility. This is the reason why it’s customary to wear a white wedding gown; it’s considered a physical representation of one’s sexual purity. Purity, nobility, and virtue are all considered to be qualities of a good, morally balanced person. These are qualities that people strive to achieve, a code that people hold themselves to. They represent a part of earthly life that is specific to us.  Animals can’t be pure or noble or virtuous, they have reactionary minds. They don’t have the capabilities of humans for more elaborate brain functions such as desire, creativity, and rational thought. To have these qualities tied to an animal, especially an extremely intimidating, violent animal, in any way is a very frightening thought because it is placing similarities between “monster” and humanity.

During Asma’s talk “Monsters, Dreams, and the Moral Imagination,” he discussed “hybrid fusion” monsters. These are monsters that are a combination of the familiar mashed with the unknown.  These monsters are more human-like.  They have qualities that we can relate to, and this makes them all the more terrifying.  A perfect example of this is the story of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.  Dr. Jekyll is a normal, upstanding person who sometimes turns into the ugly, evil, murderous Mr. Hyde.  What makes Dr. Jekylls’ alter ego so terrifying is that he exemplifies the idea, the possibility that inside each of us is a potential monster.

This brings me to the discussion we had the other day in my Dilemma of Existence class about Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. We were discussing the physical description of the monster in the novel and how the monster is portrayed in film adaptations.  More specifically, we were comparing the representation of the monster in James Whale’s 1931 film Frankenstein to that of Kenneth Branagh’s 1994 film Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein.  Whale’s monster, portrayed by Boris Karloff, is made to look like a giant, with a huge bulbous head and bolts sticking out of either side of its neck.  This is the basic, stereotypical Frankenstein monster we see every year on Halloween decorations.  This monster looks almost robotic with its neck bolts and abnormal head, and there’s a definite separation between “human” and “monster.” Robert DeNiro’s portrayal of the monster in Branagh’s film, however, is much more sinister and much more frightening.  The interesting part is, that what makes DeNiro’s monster so much more terrifying than Karloff’s is that it’s so much more human.  DeNiro is covered in gruesome scars and jaggedly stitched up skin –including what could be thought of as the shaved head of a convict. But other than that, the creature still very much resembles a man.  Branagh also apparently decided to leave out the bit about the monster being giant, which only added to its humanity.

To be able to see yourself in a monster and to know that you have the potential to become one yourself is the scariest thing of all.  Moby Dick’s “whiteness” made the whale a hybrid fusion, a terrible beast whose coloring allowed it to be associated with qualities familiar and specific to humanity.  Frankenstein’s monster is a creature that is made to resemble a person, was supposed to be the ULTIMATE person.  Stephen Asma wisely said, in his book On Monsters, that “to be a monster is to be an omen,” and how true that is. These hybrid fusion creatures are a warning to humanity that we’re not as far off from monsters as we’d like to believe.

“All things truly wicked start from an innocence.” – Ernest Hemingway

Someone posed an interesting point during class discussion, that their perspective of the Salem Witch Trials was highly influenced, and perhaps very skewed, by their reading of Arthur Miller’s “The Crucible.” Having read, and studied the Salem Witch trials in the context of, “The Crucible” in high school, I have to admit I feel the same way.

Cotton Mather, though not an actual participant in the trials himself, provides testimony from the trials and attempts to provide reason for justification in his book “On Witchcraft.” Mather paints a portrait of a people blinded by fear and paranoia, who geniuinely believed they were a fighting a real and constant battle with satan; that satan was constantly lurking, in a physical sense, shape shifting and moving through people. It’s not hard to understand then, why these people so strongly believed in the presence of witchcraft and why it evoked fear enough to warrant trials and executions. I don’t doubt for even a second that these people believed wholeheartedly that the people being singled out as witches, were in fact witches and that they posed a very real threat, both to the physical and spiritual well being of the community. However, I find it much more difficult to pinpoint the motives of the girls who began the accusations.  This subject has proven to be one of ample debate – did the girls truly believe they were being tormented by witches or were the trials the result of a desperate plea for attention gone too far?

I just can’t seem to squash the little voice in my head that keeps telling me reminding me that it’s children we’re talking about here. Kids are impressionable, but they’re also very naïve and optimistic, and in my opinion, would still be a ways off from having the life experience and exposure to the “real world” (be it puritan or modern), necessary to become afflicted by the kind of deep-seeded paranoia suffered by the adults of the community, or at least to the same extent. Two of the girls involved were cousins Elizabeth Parris and Abigail Williams, daughter and niece of the Reverend Samuel Parris.  Elizabeth and Abigail were predominately cared for by Rev. Parris’ slave Tituba, who supposedly shared stories with them about magic and voodoo. It’s not hard to imagine that these girls, raised by a slave because the Parris’ were kept busy with other matters, wouldn’t be a little starved for attention. It’s also necessary to keep in mind that these kids were being raised by very devoutly religious adults whose lives were almost entirely consumed by fear and who had to work very hard just to survive, something tells me they didn’t devote tons of time to playing with the kids.  To me, it seems realistic that these little girls were bored and desperate for attention and found a way to manipulate their parents’ fears in order to get it.  Anyone who has spent any time with a child knows that kids love to spin tales and are brilliant storytellers.  It’s plausible that the girls concocted a story, put on an act, and was the tiny spark needed to set off the dynamite that was the fanatical, paranoid community. I’m certain the girls had no idea what they were getting themselves into, at first drinking in all the attention, and then just too far gone to stop. As for the argument that they showed actual signs of physical illness, such as seizures, I do believe that they were genuinely sick, but not because of witches. Who honestly hasn’t been in a situation where they’ve told a lie or concocted a story to get something they wanted or to save face, only for the lie to take on a life of its own? I know I have, and the lies just build and build, and trying to keep up with them can put so much stress on a body that it causes actual physical illness. If the stress of keeping up with an excuse made to save a grade can manifest itself in the form of headaches, stomach aches, and insomnia, I can’t even fathom what the stress of causing mass hysteria that led to the killing of innocent people could do. The girls would also have been terrified, not only of punishment from their parents, but possibly of being executed themselves.

So, is this a distorted, somewhat pessimistic view of the events of the Salem Witch Trials cultivated in part by “The Crucible” or is it an accurate portrayal? I suppose that question will never truly have an answer.