Jumping off of what Jack wrote…

I know we were divided in class about how blameworthy Christopher’s dad was, but I actually thought that his dad was my favorite character in the book. Sure, I loved Christopher (I think it’s a little hard not to love and sympathize with Christopher), but I felt like Christopher’s dad was the most “real” character in the book. He was doing his best to hold it together, and I think his efforts were admirable – especially when you think about what he was dealing with. He had an autistic child, and although he clearly loved Christopher, life with Christopher couldn’t have been easy. His wife decided that she would rather be with the next-door neighbor in London than with her son – and she didn’t deal well with Christopher even when she was there. The wife of the aforementioned next-door neighbor spends a lot of time with Christopher’s dad after their spouses take off together, and then companionship helps him through his wife’s departure. But Mrs. Shears isn’t interested in being a part of his life in the long run, and she leaves too, which means that Christopher’s dad is once again left completely alone to care for Christopher, with no person there to offer him support or be an outlet when things get difficult. That’s a lot to deal with, and while he may have snapped and made a few mistakes (lying to Christopher about his mom, killing Wellington), I think his reaction is very human. He tries his hardest to pick up the pieces of those mistakes, and I think one of the saddest moments in the book (in my mind, at least) comes when he goes to see Christopher in London, and starts to cry when Christopher won’t put his hand on his father’s. Christopher’s dad may have been flawed, but he was trying so hard to be a good father to Christopher and I think that these internal conflicts made him easily the most compelling character in the story.

Curious Ending

The ending of the Curious Incident has two parts, the first of which resolves the traditional story arc Christopher creates concerning his mysteries. The second part of the ending deals with Christopher’s family relationships. None of the problems raised in the novel are resolved and are only scarcely addressed by Christopher. This is because for Christopher his book is about finding out who killed Wellington and finding his mother. With these mysteries solved, he views the book as a success and ends on a note of hope for his future since he has accomplished all of his goals.

However, for the reader, the book’s focus and interest becomes Christopher’s relationships with other people. Haddon offers social commentary through how the world interacts with Christopher and how Christopher interacts with the world. His relationships with his parents are especially important because he cannot relate emotionally to them and we see the strain this puts on them. This is especially seen through their hand motion that substitutes as a hug and means they love him. Christopher can only define loving someone as “helping them when they get into trouble, and looking after them, and telling them the truth” (87). When Christopher’s father shatters these rules and lies to him (along with killing a dog, one of Christopher’s favorite animals because they are so straightforward) he cannot reconcile these discrepancies.

Christopher’s inability to forgive, or to perhaps understand forgiveness and mistakes, then becomes a main focus in the text. This creates an interesting question of how he can perhaps “forgive” his mother for leaving. It seems that he is not even really upset by this, but it could just be overshadowed by his father’s betrayal. His relationship with his father is never fully resolved as Christopher mentions him briefly and detachedly. This is effective since it does not give a neat, unrealistic ending but instead allows a continuation of the story where the reader can envision the progression that may or may not happen.

I thought one of the most interesting things about our discussions on The Curious Incident was the very clear division between those who thought Christopher's father was a complete asshole and those who thought he was a man dealing with a terrible situation the best way he could. Apparently, according to various reviews of the book (my totally legit source: amazon.com), this conflicting reaction can be found among every group of people who reads it. I am in the camp of "everyone's only human", which is a bit more forgiving, and even though I read the same book those who disagree did, I still can't quite see it from the opposing perspective. No one is purely good or purely bad, and I have never met a single person who hasn't done something they regret or who hasn't handled a situation in a way that, looking back, was possibly the worst option they could have taken. One of the things I like about The Curious Incident is the emotional connection the reader develops with the characters, despite Christopher's issues regarding feeling; I found it extremely easy to empathize with Christopher's father. Imagining being in his situation is a little unbearable; the bond between a parent and a child is supposed to be one of the strongest, and not only is his son incapable of returning that bond in a "normal" fashion, he has absolutely no support system. He's floundering, trying to do what's best for his son, trying to avoid causing more problems, and once he begins the lie about Christopher's mother there really is no way that he can rewind and try again. Even after Christopher's trip to London and the disruption of whatever fragile status quo had been established, the only thing his father is concerned about is regaining Christopher's trust. So yes, he makes mistakes... but he's no monster.

Throughout this semester, we’ve been reading novels in which the main characters, in some way, are portrayed as being outsiders. Pip, Lolly, and Flory all didn’t quite seem to fit in, though the reasons for their outsider-ness varied. However, it seems to me that of these characters, Christopher seems to be the biggest outsider. Pip, born common, didn’t fit in with the high-class people he lived with in London, Lolly seemed to prefer to be on her own, and Flory was a transplant from England living in a foreign land, but Christopher’s entire world seems to be different from the world of the people around him. I found it interesting that throughout the novel, he seems to be constantly translating his thoughts or rationale to us, the readers. He writes the book as if he is anticipating that it will be read by people who are like his dad, his mom, and Siohban – not autistic. When he talks about why the color pattern of cars that he sees while on the bus will determine whether it will be a good day or a bad day for him, he compares this to when we (the people outside his world) feel cheerful or down because of what the weather is like. What I found interesting while I was reading is that while Christopher tries to explain his thoughts in terms of things that will make sense to us, you can still tell that there is a fundamental lack of understanding for him about certain aspects of the thought processes of other people. For instance, Christopher can tell you that people don’t like to think of themselves as being like computers because they think that our ability to feel emotion separates us from computers, but he doesn’t really understand this belief or why people feel this way – all he can do is tell us that people do believe this, and why he thinks that this belief is wrong. His relationship to people outside of his world or his understanding is a little bit like someone who studies a foreign language from a book and learns solely from a book how to speak a perfectly grammatical version of that language. If this person goes to that foreign country and starts talking with native speakers, he will be able to define the words that are being spoken to him, but the idioms and subtle meanings and nuances that make up that language will be lost to him, and he will be constantly having to translate in his head in order to understand what is going on around him. Because of this, a huge portion of what is being said to him will simply be lost in translation.

Ever since our discussion on Thursday, I've been thinking about the different ways that we react emotionally to literature. More specifically, I've been wondering if the strength of our reactions is more a factor of the novel itself, or if literary empathy is a personal trait of the reader.  It's obvious that different readers get different things out of a narrative, but is the place we get to emotionally when reading somewhere that the novel takes us or somewhere we go ourselves?

Christopher's story seems to spark strong and distinct emotional reactions in many of us, but the more I think about it, the more I realize that the way that I feel about Christopher is exactly the way I feel about Zach. Zach, an autistic young man and member of one of the synagogs I attended back in DC, is one of the sweetest and most difficult people I've ever met. I attended his Bar Mitzvah a few years back, and the way his smile after he got off the bimah made me feel is the same way Christopher's declaration that now he can do anything at the end of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time did.

Does the fact that this novel is dragging up emotions that I've experienced before rather than causing a brand new emotional reaction make it less valid, somehow? A novel can't speak to everyone, but the thought that a story could only speak to those with a specific experience doesn't seem quite right. For a novel to be powerful in its own right, it would seem that its emotional content would have to be somewhat independent from the reader's past experience, if not necessarily completely detached. Throughout The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time, I wonder who is doing more of the emotional heavy lifting: the novel or my own past?

Christopher's Appeal

Christopher's dad, Ed, seemed so freaked out over the investigation of the dog murder that I should have known that he killed Wellington. Ed's disposition gradually grows more terse has the story progresses. At first I had a great deal of sympathy for him, raising an autistic child alone. It was when he was violent with Chris over the book that I finally began to suspect him of somehow being involved with the dog's death.

Chris is primarily in search of a way to bring order to his world. This makes his father's deception seem ever more sinister, since the caregiver of an autistic person's main responsibility should be to keep that person's world as ordered as possible. Christopher compares his thinking to photographs, that are all real and in the order in which the events occurred. Christopher also compares his thinking to a slicing machine in a bakery. He shows how his mind processes information at a different rate than other people. He also uses the colors on vehicles that he sees on the way to school to determine what kind of day he will have.

He can be supremely logical in one instance and completely irrational in the next. Not knowing how Christopher will react to any given situation adds suspense to the novel. These qualities, such as his lack of emotion, alternating between being over-analytical and not so rational, and his inability to deal with being touched, would be entirely unappealing in a normal, adult character. By telling this story through Christopher's lens, the audience can accept what would normally be viewed as serious character flaws, because we learn to intimately understand his disability.

Knowing/Understanding

We have talked about whether or not Christopher understands abstract concepts. I think he comprehends abstract things as long as he can reason them out. Christopher demonstrates this with most of the math equations he explains and his knowledge of things like time and relativity. His teacher thinks he likes math because it is concrete and straight forward but Christopher explains how he likes the more complicated problems that take more reasoning out. Christopher breaks the problems down into logical steps in order to understand them.

He also understands the world by using his “Search” in his VCR-like memory. All the similes he uses are related to things he already knows and understands. He does a “Search” to compare new information with what he has already seen, like a feature on a person or whether or not someone is having an epileptic fit. He can realize the connections between actual things involving his senses (like sight and smell mostly) but has trouble understanding metaphors which often connect things less directly. More than metaphors, he seems to hate expressions because they are not logical (like apple of my eye).

Our discussions have also focused on what Christopher knows and what he understands. His mother realized this discrepancy and tells him that she wasn’t to explain why he left so he’ll “know” even if he may not “understand.” He doesn’t understand what her leaving means and can only comprehend that his father lied to him. He is upset because his truth and certainty has been shattered but can only connect his emotional pain to his physical injury scarping his knee. He can also only connect other people’s emotions with little emoticon pictures, but gets confused when they move past basic ones like happy and sad. These are also the only two feelings he acknowledges when he explains feelings. He can the effects feelings have on people but only sees the two extremes.

Everyone's an outsider...

Throughout the various books we've read in class, there has been one significant theme that I've noticed: in one way or another, everyone seems to be an outsider. In Great Expectations, for instance, we had the obvious outsiderness of Pip and Miss Havisham, but after discussion, it became clear that Estella didn't really fit in, either. She was of questionable background, and had been groomed into an emotionally deadened doll by Miss Havisham. Joe and co. didn't fit in the city or into Pip's ideal world, and even among themselves didn't tend to form close relationships. Then, in Lolly Willowes, the entire town of Great Mop ostracized itself from the rest of the world, and when Lolly chose not to fall in with them (although still submitting to the Devil) she became an outsider among outsiders. In Burmese Days, one of the main themes of the novel itself was that no one fit, not the English among the Burmese nor the Burmese among the English nor the English among themselves. And now, when we follow Christopher through Swindon and London, once again, every character we meet is in some way an outsider. Christopher's disability makes his alienation more evident, but his father has no support system either. The people he meets at school all have their own problems, and those he meets outside of school are all alone: Mrs. Shears, Ms. Alexander. 

Although it is certainly true that some characters are more clearly or completely outsiders than others, I think one of the most important things to take away from this course is the fact that truly fitting in in every way is next to impossible, and that everyone suffers from or chooses (or, in some cases, both) some form of separation from the fold.

An Upbeat Ending

The central character in Burmese, Flory, is given a physical sign that he is doomed from the start of the story. It is the ugly birthmark, that Orwell describes so vividly, that runs across his cheek. Flory has been in Burma for years. He has lived in the relentless heat, the cloistered expatriate community, working closely with the ‘maneuverable’ natives…nearly rotting away.

Suddenly this lovely young, British blossom arrives and Flory believes that she is the cure to all of his illnesses and defective self-esteem. First a few petals wither on the flower, when the audience learns how Elizabeth feels about art and education. The bitter tone of the book increases as we see that Elizabeth has a few thorns in her revulsion and racism towards the natives. Then we discover that the flower is actually a weed when Elizabeth dumps Flory for a man with a title, but blames the breakup on the fact that Flory had a Burmese lover (something that appeared to be quite common among the British).

Flory is able to take up with Elizabeth again when Verrall leaves for another assignment. Condemned from the start, we know that things will get worse for Flory again. No sooner than the courtship recommences does Ma Hla May, the puppet native, appear and create a spectacle by noisily demanding that Flory pay her. Elizabeth Lackersteen turns from Flory when he offers to explain, and Flory, in the utmost dejection, returns to his house, shoots his faithful dog, and then turns his pistol on himself.

The surprise in all of this is that the last chapter is a bit more upbeat after all the desolation. U Po Kyin is admitted to the British Club and decorated by the Indian government for putting down the rebellion. He is a grossly obese ‘crocodile’ and soon after his rewards, he dies of apoplexy. The biggest e surprise is that Macgregor proposes marriage to Elizabeth Lackersteen, who accepts and remains in Burma.

Women in Burmese Days

In class, we talked about the role of the women in Burmese Days. While Jayasena definitely had some out-there theories that I don’t necessarily buy into, I do agree with his statement that the English woman’s job in Burma was to keep the English men in check and remind them of how they should be behaving (as proper English men). Mrs. Lackersteen is a good example of this – she tries her hardest to keep Mr. Lackersteen from drinking too heavily or sleeping with Burmese women (both of which he jumps at the chance to do), and much of her movement seems to be dictated by him – she rarely goes anywhere without him or allows him to go anywhere without her, because she would then be unable to keep an eye on him. In her case, “wife” is just a glorified term for babysitter. Both Mrs. Lackersteen and Elizabeth (the only two English women we meet in this novel) are depicted as sharing a rigid opinion of the “proper” behavior of white men, and both display an intense dislike and distrust of the Burmese people. Orwell seems to use these two women to show how the British government’s idealized vision of the colonization of Burma. In this vision, British men would uphold the traditions and values of Victorian England while exerting their control over the Burmese people. The men in the novel, on the other hand, seem to be Orwell’s vehicles for depicting the adverse effects of colonization – a harsh landscape and pseudo-outsider status seem to drive many of them (particularly Flory) to a pretty miserable existence. While I was reading, I found myself thinking that Orwell did not seem very sympathetic to the plight of the English women, but I couldn’t think of why I got this feeling – after all, Orwell describes the men as being, on the whole, pretty nasty too. So why did it seem like he was less forgiving of the women? Thinking about it now, I’m still not sure why Orwell was harder on the women, but I do think that there is evidence that he was less sympathetic for the women. It was mentioned in class that while Orwell had respect for the British men who worked in Burma, he disagreed with the government and their reasons for being there. Given that Orwell chose to use the women to represent the wishes of the British government, while the men represented the adverse effects of colonization on the English (in addition to the Burmese), I think it seems plausible that Orwell did show the British women in a much more negative light.

Ending

We talked in class about how Flory had to die. Not only did he have no other options, but he had to be destroyed in order to show the corruptive system of colonialism. This made me consider how some of the other characters end up, and how they connect to Orwell’s themes.

First is Veraswami, who seems to show how the non-whites’ passivity and racism against themselves perpetuate their inferior status. Veraswami is “ruined” when he loses the prestige of being a white man’s friend. He is also demoted and sent to Mandalay where he joins a mixed-race club with one drunken white man. Orwell writes, “The doctor, who will never believe that a white man can be a fool, tries almost every night to engage him in what he still calls ‘cultured conversation’; but the results are very unsatisfying.” Veraswami still idolizes white men and accepts his inferior position just like he accepts his inferior post in Mandalay.

U Po Kyin is different in that he expected to be elevated to the same status as white men by joining the European Club. He is a “bearable addition” but is soon transferred therefore excluding him once again. Although U Po Kyin’s scheming seems to have worked, Orwell offers a bit of karma for the “bad character” by having him die before he can build his pagodas and be redeemed.

Ko S’la and Ma Hla May are grouped together in one paragraph basically saying how both characters squander the money Flory leaves them and end up loving rather horribly. I thought that this showed how the English made the natives become dependent on them. By colonizing and taking over, they stunted the development of the natives and ensured their dependency on the British. Earlier in the novel, Flory comments on how they use to be self-sufficient producers but now are only trained to be clerks so they must rely on British companies.

The novel ends with Elizabeth and Macgregor having a “very happy” marriage. Macgregor becomes “more human and likable” while Elizabeth becomes what “Nature had designed her from the first, that of the burra memsahib.” This could then be connected to Jayasena’s theory of the white woman’s burden since Elizabeth seems to better Macgregor and establish more English values.

Government Corruption in Burmese Days

Thinking about Burmese Days since our last class meeting, I could find no motivation for the atrocities that U Po Kyin commits. After re-examining chapter 1, I found this passage:

"U Po Kyin's earliest memory, back in the eighties, was of standing, a naked pot-bellied child, watching the British troops march victorious into Mandalay. He remembered the terror he had felt of those columns of great beef-fed men, red-faced and red-coated; and the long rifles over their shoulders, and the heavy, rhythmic tramp of their boots. He had taken to his heels after watching them for a few minutes. In his childish way he had grasped that his own people were no match for this race of giants. To fight on the side of the British, to become a parasite upon them, had been his ruling ambition, even as a child." (Orwell, 5)

The range of motivations people have for becoming involved in corruption are many and its characteristics are well documented by Orwell. At the start of the book, Kyin thought that he was equal to or better than some British. Kyin saw the British for their true nature and imitated it. Governmental characteristics of corruption mentioned in the novel are low economic and political competition, as well as no enacted punitive measures for dealing with corruption. U Po Kyin could take brides from both sides in a legal case that he oversaw, while still being able to try the case fairly. He had no fear of being caught if his cases are reviewed and the litigants in the cases had no one to complain to regarding the bribes they were forced to pay. Other schemes includes thefts in which he received kick-backs and required payments in the form of a "ceaseless toll...from all the villages under his jurisdiction."

Orwell does an excellent job of explaining that colonialism is inherently corrupting through Kyin. Kyin explains that the bribes he accepts are a form of patronage and he is preventing social unrest by collecting them. Inherently, Kyin fears that at some point he may lose his position (if the British leave or somehow relinquish power), so the brides are a form of personal employment insurance.

Other attributes that Orwell depicts which support this corrupt society include the lack of transparency in the local government, no free press, no formal accounting procedures, a ruling society of individuals largely concerned with profiteering, a strong belief of entitlement among the ruling class, moral qualities (such as integrity and honesty) that are not deemed as desirable as wealth, an illiterate or largely uneducated Burmese population, acceptance of nepotism, discrimination and xenophobia, societal benefits which exclude the Burmese (the Club), and suppression of power among the female population (both British and indigenous).

In U Po Kyin's case, his primary reasons for being corrupt were that he felt that he would never truly be punished if he performed good works in the form of building pagodas and that he personally enjoyed having power over others.

Monkey-bum

Orwell uses Flory’s birthmark as motif that continues throughout the novel and is almost always referenced to when Flory is in the text. We are introduced to his birthmark with strong imagery of its unusual shape and size that covers one side of his face. We learn how it stings him when he feels ashamed and how he turns away from people in order to hide that side of his face. His birthmark is mentioned anytime Flory feels inadequate, ashamed, or is seeking approval. As he continues to reject the “pukka sahib code” inwardly and follow it outwardly, Flory is usually in a general state of all three emotions. He feels ashamed for trying to fit in with the men at the Club but does not want to stand up to them and “start a row.” Flory even explicitly even blames his lack of courage on his birthmark when he explains how he was taunted as a child.

The imagery surrounding his birthmark makes it a symbol for whenever Flory feels self-conscious. Generally he feels self-conscious because he is trying to be accepted by the Europeans though he is not a true pukka sahib, or he is ashamed that he is acting like a pukka sahib. Flory’s overwhelming desire to fit in and not cause any complications is seen whenever he is at the club or with Elizabeth. He thinks she is “cultured” and shares his viewpoints so he keeps introducing her to native events and customs that she is always disgusted with. After anytime she is upset, Flory is described as turning his head from her to conceal his birthmark. He hides his face whenever he is ashamed and he can feel his birthmark on his cheek. His explanation of how he can feel it when he is ashamed was most memorable during his interactions with Ma Hla May. His shame shows the reader that Flory has a good moral compass though he does not act on it. The question is then if it matters: is thinking “good” and doing “bad” any better than just doing “bad”?