Psychological Evaluations of Byron, Shelley, and Keats

Creative Non-Fiction by Reagan Wolfe of Cerro Coso Community College
2015 Met Awards - First Place for College Creative Non-Fiction

__________

San Jose City College
Disabled Poets Program & Services
2100 Moorpark Ave.
Poet Services Building
San Jose, CA. 95128

Re: Byron, Shelley and Keats

PSYCHOLOGICAL EVALUATIONS

Names: Byron, Shelley and Keats

Sexes:  Male

File Name: Romantic Poets, Second Generation

Ages: All died before their time

Prepared for: San Jose Poets Clinic

Date of Report: 3.13.2014

Completed by: Reagan E. Wolfe, PhD, FACFE, DABPS

CONFIDENTIALITY STATEMENT:

The information contained herein in this document is intended only for the individual addressed and may contain information that is privileged and prohibited from disclosure to any other party under the applicable law.  This information is to be considered extremely confidential and is to be released only to duly authorized agencies or individuals.  This information is intended only for the use of the individuals named above. If you are not the intended recipient, you are hereby notified that reading, disseminating, disclosing, distributing, copying, acting upon or otherwise using this information in this document is strictly prohibited.

Presenting Problem:

John Keats is a white male who is in his early twenties.  He is self-referred for an evaluation to assess for a learning disability stemming from his inability as he reports to write poetry.  He states, “When I write poetry, it just doesn’t come as easy to me as it does for my contemporaries, although I do write a lot of material.” In addition, he reports an ongoing difficulty with attention, he is high-strung, and has distraction factors which in turn trigger a sense of depression.  The overall results of the Millon College Counseling Inventory (MCCI) point toward elevated scores of a moderate Anxiety disorder.  Results also suggest that he has difficulty with sustaining energy and effort with his many other tasks which include apothecary duties, medical training and assisting surgeons. He acknowledges he is experiencing a Dysthymic mood, resulting in a feeling of dejection and feelings of inadequacy, perhaps stemming from the loss of his parents at a young age.  In addition this mood may have caused his inability to commit full-time to writing poetry, sooner.  Last, he has an elevated score on the Clinical Personality Patterns on the Compulsive scale (score of 94) known as Obsessive-Compulsive Personality Disorder. This score suggests he can be behaviorally rigid, meticulous, may be a perfectionist and an overachiever. 

Presenting Problem:

Lord Byron A.K.A. George Gordon Byron, is a white male who is in his mid-thirties.  He was referred by Samuel T. Coleridge who was previously treated for a significant form of hero worship (Shakespeare and Milton).  Lord Byron presents himself as a larger than life person who actually writes about heroes perhaps as a way to fulfill unsatisfied desires or as a form of seeking an identity (perhaps one like Zorro).  He also admits that he is a risk-taker who has amassed large debts and who also has a sex-addiction.  He has an elevated score on the Clinical Personality Patterns on the Compulsive scale (score of 150) known as Obsessive-Compulsive Personality Disorder. This score suggests he has a repetitive lifestyle with patterned behaviors.  Fear of social disapproval can lead him to suppress his strong resentment and anger toward those whose approval he seeks. Results on the Brown Attention Deficit Scale – Adults indicate that there may be a function of attention deficit operating with this individual. Such individuals tend to be slow in getting started and have difficulty in getting organized, because of being scattered or being inhibited by worry (Organizing and activating for poetry).

Presenting Problem:

Percy Bysshe Shelley is a white male who is in his late twenties. He has been referred by his wife Mary who is concerned with his sociopathic tendencies.  Shelley states that he suffers from various phobias which culminated from a difficult childhood in which he was the victim of excessive bullying.  As a result of his bullying, he participated in sadistic behaviors that he attempted to downplay as harmless pranks.  These ‘pranks’ as he called them included electrifying doors.  With regard to Clinical Syndromes, results indicate that Mr. Shelley is feeling extremely apprehensive, (Anxiety, 82) or specifically phobic, is typically tense, indecisive, and restless.  He may experience a notable sense that problems are imminent.  For example, he may worry that he needs to fully represent common man in notable causes because poets are people who enact laws. He may also exhibit a hyperalertness to his environment (natural elements such as the sky and weather).  He also exhibits a generalized sense of tension.

The Unsung Hero of Plainsong

Essay by Janace Tashjian

Plainsong is a term that defines music created in worship, by unaccompanied voices, sung in unison and in a free rhythm. Kent Haruf's novel of the same name, Plainsong, presents a chorus of life on the high plains of rural Holt, Colorado. The voices of the chant are sung by varied members of this small town community, all of whom are navigating life, love, abandonment, betrayal, isolation and triumph. As if flowing across a giant loom, their experiences weave together in this unisonous psalm, intoning the resiliency of the human spirit and the ability to overcome loss and discover life anew.

One voice rises above all others. A voice of reason and inspiration, of strength and gentle humanity. Though the character-titled chapters of Plainsong specifically focus on Tom Guthrie (educator and father of two young boys), Ike and Bobby (Guthrie's sons), Victoria Roubideaux (17 year-old pregnant student), Ella (Ike and Bobby's mother) and Harold and Raymond McPheron (aged brothers and farmers), it is the timbre and tone of Maggie Jones that invites us to sing along. Is Maggie Jones the unsung hero of Plainsong?

Maggie has only one devoted chapter of her own, yet she permeates the lives of those around her. Always there to lend a helping hand, even when she could use one herself. Consider first Victoria Roubideaux, pregnant at age 17, abandoned by her father, ousted from home by her mother, and left alone by the boyfriend whose child she carries. After being locked out of the house, and left “in a kind of daze of sorrow and disbelief” (Haruf 32), where did Victoria seek sanctuary and comfort? “Unconscious of any thoughts at all” (Haruf 33), Victoria finds herself at Maggie's door. Maggie provides shelter to Victoria without a second thought, despite already caring for her elderly and demented father. She helps Victoria confirm her pregnancy, visit the doctor and begin planning for her future. She never coddles Victoria, but paints a real picture of her situation and the trials ahead. After Victoria's disastrous disappearance to Denver with estranged boyfriend Dwayne, Maggie is the first phone call she makes, in efforts to come home.

Does Maggie give up on Victoria when it becomes clear she can no longer stay in Maggie's house, after her father becomes violent? No. Consider next, the McPheron brothers, Harold and Raymond, aged farmers living a life of isolation on their ranch. Maggie reaches out to the brothers to enroll them in Victoria's care. “I want something improbable” (Haruf 109) Maggie states simply. Though she couches it as a favor to Victoria, Maggie clearly identifies the McPherons' need for their isolation and sorrow to be eased. “...You old solitary bastards need somebody too...it's too lonesome out here” (Haruf 112). She continues to inspire them in their efforts, coaching and encouraging them on how to talk to her, how to open up, and how to be good providers. When Victoria goes missing, Maggie is whom they go to for help and advice.

Maggie seems to have an endless supply of compassion and patience. Doesn't she ever lose her cool? Well, yes...once. “Don't do this damn you, you're too old to play dumb” (Haruf 190), Maggie states to Tom Guthrie after his indiscretion with Judy, the school secretary. Consider lastly, Tom Guthrie, educator and father to Ike and Bobby, who has been abandoned by his wife. He too finds unique solace and comfort in her company. At a time of life when Guthrie is struggling to raise his boys alone, and accept his failed marriage, Maggie, “the most generous woman he'd ever known” (Haurf 233), is that glimpse of a silver lining amidst the dark and cloudy trials Tom faces. She is straightforward and honest in her interest toward Tom, “I've been watching you for a long time” (Haruf 230), “I'm just crazy about you” (Haruf 233). Guthrie seems to find his muse in Maggie, revealing himself to her in one simple phrase: “You take the breath out of me” (Haruf 232).

In his essay entitled “Kent Haruf,” Michael R. Molino states, “the novels of Kent Haruf do not tell the story of heroic idealism on the American plains” (8). Heroic idealism, no. Heroic deeds, most certainly. Maggie Jones is the intrepid voice in this ensembles' refrain, indeed the unsung hero of Plainsong. Though Haruf does not tell her story directly, Maggie is revealed as a cornerstone of her community, always ready with a kind gesture, thoughtful expression and practical solution. In these “craziest times ever” (Haruf 124), Maggie's empathy and pragmatism is pitch-perfect. Her selflessness and honesty touch the lives of all those with the good fortune of knowing her.

As Plainsong's chant comes to a conclusion, Maggie finds herself surrounded by the friends and family she helped bring together, their paths inextricably entwined—none of them wholly repaired or made new, but more akin to “the old dishes that had been unused for decades, that were chipped and faded, but still serviceable” (Haruf 299). Those dishes are proudly laid upon the table for their impending fellowship. The lone voice of Maggie's father absently calls out into the emptiness: “Hello. Is anyone there” (Haruf 299). No doubt Maggie Jones was there to answer his call.

Works Cited

Haruf, Kent. Plainsong. New York: Vintage Books, 2000. Print.

Molino, Michael R. “Kent Haruf.” Dictionary of Literary Biography, Volume 292: Twenty-First Century American Novelists. A Bruccoli Clark Layman Book. Ed. Lisa Abney and Suzanne Disheroon. Gale, 2004. 148-154. Web.

Contributor's Note: Janace Tashjian is a Cerro Coso student. She enjoyed writing this literary interpretation for English 111: Introduction to Types of Literature.

A Real Education in "Naming of Parts" and "When I Heard the Learn'd Astronomer"

Essay by Chelsea Foulke

Most people have had a life-changing teacher whose influence cannot be overstated. The best teachers, however, are not always found in school but are instead often found outside of the traditional learning environment. The poems "Naming of Parts" by Henry Reed and "When I Heard the Learn'd Astronomer" by Walt Whitman give the reader insight into what constitutes true teaching, true learning, and a real education. The speakers in both of these poems find their conventional teachers mundane and derive their real education from nature and personal introspection. Both poems implicitly encourage the reader to find a real education outside of the customary method. Through diction and syntax, tone, and contrast, both poems address the issues of domination by teachers to attempt to force traditional learning and the resistance of students to accept learning in this traditional fashion.

Both Reed and Whitman use diction and syntax to comment on education in their poetry. Reed depicts what true learning is through diction and syntax in "Naming of Parts." Many phrases in this poem have both denotations and connotations. The name of the poem itself denotes the austere nature of the parts of the guns that are described in the poem. The poem begins each stanza with exactly what the military teacher is teaching regarding the parts of a gun, and his words are uncreative and uninteresting. At the end of each stanza, however, the narrator repeats phrases but attributes different meanings to the phrases. In contrast to the teacher's tedious words, the words used by the internal voice of the student are beautiful and utilize various literary techniques. For example, Reed uses the simile that the flower in the garden "glistens like coral" (5). Similarly, Reed begins the second stanza with a mundane description of another part of the gun but ends the stanza with the "silent, eloquent gestures" (11), creating personification of the trees. Reed also uses repetition of phrases. After a dull description of how to ease the spring of a gun, he repeats a similar phrase, but in relation to the bees pollinating the flowers, "They call it easing the Spring" (24). In this way, he uses two definitions of the word "Spring" to connote two different meanings.

Similar to Reed's use of diction and syntax, Whitman also uses these literary techniques to provide commentary on teaching and learning. "When I Heard the Learn'd Astronomer" contains a total of only eighty-three words, but the words have many denotations and connotations. For example, if Whitman had intended the adjective "learn'd" to be a respected one, he would have used the word "educated" or "knowledgeable" when referring to the astronomer. Instead, the word "learn'd" connotes a tone of skepticism towards the astronomer. Similarly, the student claims that he "heard" the astronomer. But the implication again is that while he may have heard the words of the teacher, he only learned from these words in that they opened the door for more intuitive thinking. The "proofs" provided by the astronomer also give a sarcastic connotation. The word leaves the reader wondering what, if anything, was proven. In contrast to this sarcastic connotation of "proof," when the student walks out, Whitman describes the student as "rising and gliding" (6), giving an uplifting connotation and even implying that he rises above the teacher. When the student goes outside, there is not just silence, but "perfect silence" (8), as if again, nature is the better teacher. The last word of the poem is "stars." The astronomer talks on and on, but never actually mentions the true subject -- the stars. The diction and syntax with Whitman's last word is direct, suggesting that it is nature who is the true teacher.

In addition to the use of diction and syntax, both Reed and Whitman use the tone of the speaker to convey their ideas about what constitutes true teaching and learning. In "Naming of Parts," the tone of the speaker is conveyed through two obvious speakers. The first speaker is the teacher who names of the parts of a gun. The teacher's words, such as "lower sling swivel" and "bolt," are monotonous, long-winded, and even cold. They simply name the actual parts of an inanimate and unfeeling object, a weapon. In one case, the speaker actually refers to the "safety-catch"; perhaps Reed intentionally chose this word based on the fact that the root word of "safety-catch" is "safe." In contrast to the voice of the teacher in "Naming of Parts" is the voice of the student. The voice of the student appears to be an internal voice, as if the student is daydreaming of a more idyllic place. The teacher's words ring in the student's ear, allowing him to think of other locations where the words might apply but in totally different ways. Perhaps there is even a third implied voice in the poem, which is the voice of nature. Nature does speak figuratively in the poem through its gardens and bees. The differences among these three voices provide an overall effect for the reader that implies that the information the teacher is espousing regarding guns is unexciting compared to the beauty and teaching of life and nature.

The tone of the speaker in "When I Heard the Learn'd Astronomer" also provides commentary on true teaching and learning. The actual narrator of the poem is the student, but the student describes the astronomer in a sarcastic tone. The implied voice of the astronomer is educated, but not necessarily wise. Similar to the teacher in "Naming of Parts," the astronomer is boring; he presents his information in "charts and diagrams, to add, divide, and measure" (3). In fact, the astronomer is so mind-numbing that the student actually walks out of the lecture hall. The tone of the speaker insinuates that he finds true learning not from the astronomer, but instead from nature and inward contemplation, as he "looked up in perfect silence at the stars" (8).

While diction, syntax, and tone are important elements in these poems, the most important way that both Reed and Whitman convey the theme of true teaching and learning is with the overall use of contrast. In "Naming of Parts," guns are contrasted with flowers, teachers are contrasted with bees, weapons of death are contrasted with the life of nature, and austere military equipment is contrasted with descriptions of nature as "fragile" (17) and "eloquent" (11). The narrator notes that "the early bees are assaulting and fumbling the flowers" (23), which would seem like a strange description of a bee's behavior, if it were not in contrast to the military men "fumbling" with how to learn the parts of their "assault" weapon. Overall, the contrast in the poem speaks to the issue of what is being taught by the teacher versus what is being learned by the student. The speaker repeats a particularly odd phrase, that the students "have not got" various parts of a gun (10 and 28); in addition, they "have not got" the "silent eloquent gestures" of the garden (12). The contrast of these deficiencies of what they "have not got" highlights the difference between the information that is being taught by the traditional teacher and the information being taught by the real teacher, nature.

Whitman also highlights the theme of traditional teaching versus real learning through contrast in "When I Heard the Learn'd Astronomer." The audience in the poem responds to the astronomer with "much applause" (4), which is contrasted with the narrator's own feelings of negativity towards the lecturer. Similarly, the word "unaccountable" (5) typically means inexplicable, but can be contrasted with another meaning of not being responsible for one's actions, leaving the narrator free to dismiss the astronomer's words and exit the classroom. When the narrator does leave, he is "tired and sick" (5), but there is an obvious contrast between being physically sick and only mentally sick of this traditional form of teaching. Finally, in contrast to the traditional education from the lecturer, the real education comes when the narrator exits into the "mystical moist night-air" (7).

In each of Reed and Whitman's poems, the narrator is subjected to a teacher that he finds mundane, the narrator is compelled to find another teacher, and the narrator finds that teacher in nature. The narrator in "Naming of Parts" finds his education in "the almond-blossom / Silent in all of the gardens and the bees going backwards and forwards" (lines 28-29). The narrator in "When I Heard the Learn'd Astronomer" finds his education when he looks "up in perfect silence at the stars" (8). Through these two poems, Reed and Whitman use diction and syntax, tone, and contrast, to address the theme of what constitutes a real education. Both poets urge the reader to look outside the traditional realm of teaching to find his own teacher and his own education.

Works Cited

Reed, Henry. "Naming of Parts." Making Arguments about Literature, A Compact Guide and Anthology. Ed. John Schilb and John Clifford. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin's, 2005. 331. Print.

Whitman, Walt. "When I Heard the Learn'd Astronomer." Making Arguments about Literature, A Compact Guide and Anthology. Ed. John Schilb and John Clifford. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin's, 2005. 333. Print.

Contributors Note: Chelsea Foulke is a senior at Mammoth High School and a concurrent Cerro Coso student who would like to transfer to UC Berkeley and major in pre-med/pre-vet. She enjoyed writing about literature in both English 101 and English 102 at Cerro Coso. This was a piece she wrote for English 102.

The Value of Choice

Essay by James Collins

Throughout mankind’s history, we have always looked for the answer to why men do what they do. Why do bad people do bad things and why do good people do good things? Or, more interestingly, why do good people do bad things and why do bad people do good things? Although modern psychology was not closely studied until the 19th century, the ethical search for the causality of human behavior dates back to the earliest civilizations of Egypt, Persia and Greece.

In literature, this enigma is often the driving force of the countless characters in countless stories. We find this protagonist thrust into that situation, and the suspense of the tale lies in how they will react and whether we will be able to predict what they will do. In “real life,” this conundrum often also drives our dramas of reality as well. How will our parents react to our recent engagement? How will our siblings deal with our father’s death?

In almost every instance, the choices characters make in literature, as well as the choices we make in reality, have immediate and longstanding consequences. The real question that ultimately matters in our judgments of any choice is not so much why, but was the choice justified? Could we celebrate the choices made if they are positive? Alternatively, can we understand and sympathize if the choices made were not in line with our own value set? Often, our society tends to “give a pass” to those who make poor decisions based on what the individuals have gone through in their lives and this, unfortunately, tends to relieve them of, if not true accountability, at least moral accountability.

This conflict of the reader’s judgment is very prevalent in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. Indeed, the entire story is based upon two figures who, driven by their circumstance in life, seek to avoid accountability. Victor perpetually tries to ignore the existence of his creation, at first clapping and expressing “joy” (Shelley 63) simply to have the creature out of his sight. The creature, on the other hand, embraces “hellish rage and gnashing of teeth” (Shelley 125) towards “all mankind” (Shelley 126) due to his suffering at the hands of those he encounters. Yet, for both of these characters, the reader is expected to maintain a level of sympathy and understanding towards them, if not agreement.

We see further evidence of this tendency to expect sympathy and excuse for action in Mary Wollstonecraft’s From Maria, or the Wrongs of Woman in the main character, Jemima’s, depiction of her mother as one who was “seduced” (Wollstonecraft 197) rather than one who made the free decision to enter into a relationship with her father, leaving her “ruined” (Wollstonecraft 197). During this telling of the woeful tale, we are expected to accept Jemima for what she is as if she is beyond accountability since things were so hard for her from the beginning. Throughout the story, we see examples of less than desirable thoughts and decisions, such as stealing and fancying the murder of her sister in jealousy. Yet, in the end, it seems as if we are expected to feel as if all these things are excusable due to her harsh treatment.

In William Godwin’s Things as They Are, or The Adventures of Caleb Williams, even the antagonist of the story, Mr. Collins, excuses Caleb, stating “you did not make yourself” (Godwin 196). Again, we are presented with a character that is in a dire circumstance who seems to be there for every reason other than his own doing. Although Mr. Collins’ excuse of Caleb is more dismissive than sympathetic, it is excuse nonetheless. The character is a victim of his life and worthy of excuse.

This tendency of human nature is not restricted to the literary world. It seems that in all facets of life and popular culture, we tend to feel sorry for those in strife and think first of the turmoil they suffer and second, if at all, about why they are there. We feel bad for celebrities being chased by the paparazzi, for example, but don’t seem to give much thought to the fact that they are not suddenly cast, by surprise and against their will, into the public eye. They have spent years or decades trying to break into the upper echelon of Hollywood stardom. There is no mystery to what life is like for those that famous.

There are a number of articles and essays that carry this motif into reality. In one such article, “Peer Pressure Influences Gang Behavior” by Dale Greer, we follow a young underprivileged child named Hubert. It is stated as a given that he was cutting school because “his lack of material assets was so embarrassing” (Greer). By this logic, every child in his area should be cutting school, which, since there were obviously children at school, is untrue. Not long after, we find Hubert “committing crimes to provide for himself what his mother's income could not afford” (Greer). Certainly, Hubert couldn’t have been the only child in his neighborhood that had a poor mother. But, just as certainly, it is probably safe to assume that not every child in the area was a criminal.

There is no doubt that we are the sum of our parts. Certainly, many people in the world are forced into a life situation that is misfortunate. The refugees in Darfur, for example, either live in deplorable conditions in the refugee camp or face certain death by staying in their homelands. This is a much different situation than we see Victor, the creature, Jemima or Hubert face. Victor did not face certain demise if he did not toy with creating humanoid life. The creature would not have suffered more had he not killed Victor’s young brother. Jemima would not have starved had she not satisfied her “liquorish tooth” (Wollstonecraft 199). And, Hubert’s choices to commit crime so he wouldn’t be teased cannot be seen as one made in self preservation.

The moral dilemma being discussed here, when is it acceptable to commit egregious acts, does have a grey area, but one must tread lightly when considering whether to excuse one’s actions. A good example comes from a story used in psychology to study this very subject: moral dilemma. Dr. George Boeree published an article titled “Moral Development” outlining this topic. In the article, Boeree recounts a groundbreaking psychologist, Dr. Lawrence Kohlberg, using the following dilemma to test how subjects came to moral justification. It centers on a fictitious character named Heinz.

“His wife was dying of a disease that could be cured if he could get a certain medicine. When he asked the pharmacist, he was told that he could get the medicine, but only at a very high price- one that Heinz could not possibly afford. So the next evening, Heinz broke into the pharmacy and stole the drug to save his wife's life. Was Heinz right or wrong to steal the drug?” (Boeree)

Obviously, either answer would have positive and negative implications. If Heinz were to let his wife die, he would be not only heartbroken, but could even be considered negligent. However, if he steals, he has broken a key tenet of society. The argument isn’t so much which choice Heinz should make, but that Heinz must accept consequence for either choice and expect no excuse for his actions either way.

Such is the recurring theme in Frankenstein. We have a story that sprawls through numerous settings and even more numerous moral landscapes. With Victor, at every turn, he is confronted with his foul decision to bestow life to the creature. Instead of embracing his decision and fostering the goodwill of the creature, he instead allows “disgust” (Shelley 61) to drive his actions. Although this does not, by any means, excuse the creature’s future actions, it certainly lays the seed for what is to come. This failure cannot be excused. As Peg Tittle puts it in her article “Couples Should Need a License to Obtain the Privilege of Parenthood”, “’I created someone by accident’ should be just as horrific, and just as morally reprehensible, as ‘I killed someone by accident’” (Tittle). Although the context Ms. Tittle uses is one for procreation, the argument is the same and denies Victor the excuse that he could not have known what would happen upon animating the creature.

Just as surely, the creature can expect no sympathy for his actions, regardless of how he was treated in his life. Nothing can justify murder as a tool or a means to an end. Just as Paracelsus declares that “every field is ordered by its seed, and no seed by its field” (Paracelsus 204), the creature can seek no shelter of justification that the world had made him what he was. He could have chosen to exile himself, to continue to approach Victor in benevolence or any order of different paths other than vengeful murder.

It is clear that Victor and the creature do not value true accountability. They lament their situations at length throughout the novel and attempt to blame the other for their misfortunes, but neither of them ever seek to resolve the problem between them and, once it is too late and innocent blood had been shed, neither of them are willing to commit to the other any quarter which may end the ever escalating conflict between them. What they value is a victory over an adversary which is unattainable. They base this value upon a false notion that evil deeds perpetuate evil responses. They justify these actions to themselves at every step at the cost of those around them. In the end, not only does what they hold dear crumble around them, but those who are unwittingly associated with the situation pay with high cost– some with their lives.

What a reader should take from this writing, and those discussed throughout this essay, is that poor choices need to be dealt with head on. That which can be salvaged should be salvaged and that which is lost must be put behind oneself. What we see in Shelley’s Frankenstein is the manifestation of failure perpetuating failure and lack of accountability perpetuating further acts without accountability. We should learn from this writing that, although we are a sum of our parts and often victims of our circumstances, we are not ever without choice to do the right thing. To do otherwise or to believe contrary invites only more strife and indignity.

Works Cited

Bidinotto, Robert James. "A Lack of Morals Causes Criminal Behavior." Current Controversies: Crime. Ed. Paul A. Winters. San Diego:Greenhaven Press, 1998. Opposing Viewpoints Resource Center. Gale. Cerro Coso Community College. n. pag. Web. 21 Apr. 2010

Boeree, George. "Moral Development." General Psychology. N.p., 2003. Web. 22 Apr 2010

Godwin, William, "Things as They Are, or The Adventures of Caleb Williams." Frankenstein (Contextual Documents). 2nd ed. Johanna Smith. Boston, MA: Bedford/St Martins, 2000. Print.

Greer, Dale. "Peer Pressure Influences Gang Behavior." Opposing Viewpoints: Gangs. Ed. Laura K. Egendorf. San Diego: Greenhaven Press,2001. Opposing Viewpoints Resource Center. Gale. Cerro Coso Community College. n. pag. Web. 21 Apr. 2010

Paracelsus, "On Creation." Frankenstein (Contextual Documents). Johanna Smith. Boston, MA: Bedford/St Martins, 2000. Print.

Shelley, Mary. Frankenstein. 2nd ed. Ed. Johanna Smith Boston, MA: Bedford/St Martins, 2000. Print.

Tittle, Peg. "Couples Should Need a License to Obtain the Privilege of Parenthood." At Issue: Is Parenthood a Right or a Privilege?. Ed. Stefan Kiesbye. Detroit: Greenhaven Press, 2009. Opposing Viewpoints Resource Center. Gale. Cerro Coso Community College. n. pag. Web. 22 Apr. 2010

Contributor's Note:I am a current student of Cerro Coso seeking a business degree. I am a US Air Force veteran and married father of two. I have a passion for writing and other creative expression. I wrote this piece during my freshman composition course and was encouraged to submit it to Met by my instructor, Gary Enns.

 

Decoding The Love Song

T.S. Eliot’s “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” brings to life the inner workings of an aging man who worries about isolation and loneliness because he lacks a mate. With only a cursory glance, a reader might believe that this epic journey is but a mere dirge to a life which lacks love. However, deeper analysis brings forth another conclusion about this poem’s true intent. It is in fact a veiled social commentary, focusing on various aspects of human society.

Perhaps the biggest elucidation would be the plot of Prufrock itself. The speaker of the poem is a balding man who it seems cannot find love no matter how hard he tries. As he grows older, his chances become slimmer due to physical unattractiveness which is at odds with the preconceived notion of physical beauty that his community holds when courting. He lives with the knowledge that the women he seeks will say things about him like “'but how his arms and legs are thin'” (678)! Controversially, Prufrock also lets the women he sees blend together into a singular being in the respect that he has “known their eyes already, known them all” (679). Here the speaker is pointing out how all of the women have the same values in a man, and that they are in a way all the same, and thus almost gives up by not knowing how to “presume” due to the repetitive nature of the females in his world. However, eventually, later in the poem he seems to succumb to the situation by deciding that the proper way to handle his age is to take up the latest fashion, wearing the “bottoms of [his] trousers rolled” (680). Even though he still seems dejected and maintains that he will probably never find a woman, he trudges onward and carries on with his quest to attain love. This interpretation of the ending helps us see the conformity that is imposed upon a person who is for the entirety of their monologue and objector to the statues queue. He goes along with the concepts he hates only because he it seems to be the only means to his end. As such, much of his dialog can bee seen as a commentary of the social standards one has to go though for even the most minuscule prospect of love.

One way Eliot illustrates his social qualms is with the many historical references he makes, one of the most noteworthy being “In the room the women come and go talking of Michelangelo” (678). We can imagine that he is talking of perhaps the most famous Michelangelo who created the Sistine Chapel, reputed to be on of the greatest artists of all time. For approximately a hundred years now there have been rumors and evidence circulating claiming that he was a homosexual, this timeline would of course put the start of the rumors within the same time period that Eliot was writing this composition (Alberge). Homosexuality was something of a taboo practice in the early 20th century; it can be assumed that one of the most noteworthy people of all time possibly partaking in same sex relations would be the hot button for gossip. With rumors, there is no need for truth in the matter, only that people are willing to spread it to others who will do so in kind. So when a critical question is posed in the poem we “make our visit” to the place where women talk “of Michelangelo” (678). It would seem as if the speaker is saying that we as a society put the most stock in the gossip of a sewing circle, rather than focusing on what is actually important in the bigger picture. His connotations to rumors are supplemented by those of other literary classics.

Elliot makes numerous allusions to other great works including, but not limited to, Hamlet, The Bible, and Dante’s Inferno. The sheer number of references he makes is a testament to his poetic style, and simultaneously turns the poem itself into something of a social commentary in that only the learned people of the world could read and understand it. Perhaps this was intentionally done to help drive people into become more scholarly, and have a greater appreciation for the various forms of the written word. It has been suggested that he intentionally made his poetry so complex in order to pull in the reader and make them “involved” (Brooker). Is there any doubt that today almost a hundred years later, in the U.S.A, our educational system seems to be in at least quasi dire straights? Moreover, this idea can be further expounded upon when the connection is made that out of all the works both the editors Schilb/Clifford and I could not find a single one which was spawned from the mind of an American. This development helps show his lack of respect for American Literature which was riddled with Romanticism during his time period. In fact he was often noted to “[react] against Romanticism” (Brooker). Perhaps the numerous allusions he makes are in a sense a challenge to the contemporary writers of the era to change their style and become noteworthy enough to be made reference to in a literary work.

Arguably, the most interesting reference in “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” is made in the very beginning of the poem; it is a selection written in its original Italian from Dante's Inferno. This epic poem is but the fist in a three part masterpiece which chronicles a man’s trip though the various settings of the after life (Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven); the Inferno corresponding to Hell. After translation we find that the excerpt is that of a person in Hell telling Dante that no one returns from Abaddon (Eliot 677). The primary purpose for this opening line would seem to be to tell us as readers that we are already in the fiery pits even if we may not know it. But what is this Hades which Eliot wishes us to see and realize we are in? The rest of the poem would is centered on the social scene of the era with lines like “I have measure out my life with coffee spoons” (678). It is not unfathomable that Eliot might be saying that the communal environment of the time is very much like the dankest of abysses.

Yet another connection occurs in stanzas 5 and 7 in which Eliot some what mimics the biblical poem Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 by repeating the phrase “There will be time” and a pattern of listing two opposing acts such as “plant” and “uproot.” Following the allusion are various metropolitan aspects such as “yellow smoke” (smog) and “taking of toast and tea” (678). Here it is almost as if he is attempting to show us how venerated such facets of life have become, by comparing them in a biblical sense. Furthermore, he goes on to in the same list tell us of time to “murder,” an act which helps bring forth the darker connotation he seems to be going for. As it stands both these stanzas seem to cast light onto some of the “evil” areas of modern life (Brooker).

T.S. Eliot's style and life experiences give credence to the conclusion that “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” is a social commentary. “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” was the culmination of the first portion of his career, and was only preceded by a few poems titled respectively "Portrait of a Lady," "Preludes," and "Rhapsody on a Windy Night.” All four of these poems set themes that Elliot would revisit “time and time again.” This concept should be taken into account when we consider his land mark work, known as “The Wasteland” in which he “diagnosed” the troubles not only of his epoch, but of “Western Civilization” as well. His time spent as a literary critic is also quite telling as so many of his essays included “social and religious criticism.” His other works show that he has something of a predisposition for societal appraisal; it would stand to reason then that Prufrock could be thought of as a stepping stone to the greater annotations of his later career (Brooker).

T.S. Elliot has riddled this piece with social commentary galore. He has masterfully woven in many differing views on the way things were accomplished in the world then, and has managed to keep it applicable for today’s world almost a hundred years later. His primary overtone being that of reforming the dating system, we find him even going so far as to compare the dating pool to a circle of Hell. Some of his undertones use historical and biblical connections to show our dependency on rumors and ritual. He even, in a very round about way, goes so far as to make the assumption that American literature is not worthy, and that our educational system is in adequate. The surface of the brimming pot of social commentary has only been scratched, but even soaking in at this level leads me to believe that this is no mere souls lamentation of loneliness.

Works Cited

Alberge, Dalya. "Michelangelo was not gay, says scholar." The Times (London, England) (Feb 22, 1999): 8. InfoTrac Custom Newspapers. Gale. Cerro Coso Community College. 20 Nov. 2008 .

Brooker, Jewel Spears. Dictionary of Literary Biography Volume 329. Literature Resource Center. Gale. 2007. 18 Nov. 2008. Cerro Coso Community College.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8, New International Version. BibleGateway.com. 2008. 18 Nov. 2008

Eliot, T.S.. “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock.” Making Arguments About Literature. Ed. John Schilb and John Clifford. Boston: Bedford/St. Martins, 2005. 677-680.

Eurydice: The Unmourned Mother

One of the most compelling characters in the play, Antigone, is unfortunately the least mentioned. Eurydice, the wife of Creon and mother of Haemon, suffers this fate. Upon learning of her sons’ death, Eurydice, despairing and struck with grief, takes her own life. This is the only mention of her throughout the entire play! As a direct result of her insignificant role in the play, the reader is left with no remorse for a mother who deserves no less. It seems to be a transgression against the soul to allow one’s mother to go unmourned, yet this is the effect that the author has created. The reader is left to ponder and expand upon the life of Eurydice in the story of Antigone. One may even inquire as to what impact her death can have on the reader and how this can transform the story if her character is further defined. Step into the world of Antigone to perceive for yourself the true essence of Eurydice and why it is imperative for her character to be extraneous.

One could argue that Sophocles intentionally down-plays Eurydice’s character as a result of the fact that women possess little to no influence in Greece at this time. However, if chauvinism is the rationale, then the play itself would not be named after Antigone either. Taking a second look, the reader can plainly see that Antigone, a woman, is pivotal to this play, thereby ruling out the approach of sexism as a line of reasoning. The truth may lie closer to the reality that a central character already exists, and that Eurydice is a character with the potential to steal the spotlight away from that main character.

If the reader looks carefully, he or she might see that although Antigone is a chief character, that Creon is a main character of this play as well. When taking this into consideration, one can see that Eurydice’s role should in-fact remain small. If Eurydice’s part is magnified, perhaps Creon and Antigone would no longer be the two main characters. If truth be told, some readers begin to get frustrated with Antigone and Creon because of their blatant stubbornness. This frustration may entice a reader to relate better with Eurydice in her position as the loving mother. Consequently, this switch in central character(s) could completely jeopardize the entire story line of the play.

When Eurydice says, “sorrow and I are hardly strangers,” the reader very nearly begins to pity and bond with the character of Eurydice (l. 1312). For a mother to listen to the story of her own son’s demise must have been horrible! One can only sympathize with poor, unknown Eurydice at this time. However, in the very next moment, she is gone, providing no time for the reader to become too attached. This was a bold stroke of the pen by Sophocles who could have just as easily left Eurydice out of the play entirely. Instead, Sophocles chooses to give the reader just a taste of compassion for a woman we can never know. What little we do know about Eurydice resonates in this reader long after the play is done.

So, why did Sophocles choose not to tell us more about Eurydice and why is that so important? He chooses not to tell us more about her because Eurydice needs a story of her own. Eurydice is a character that is not easily described or summed up in just a few sentences; therefore, it would be impossible to get too involved in her character in this play. Her character is one with honor, love and commitment to her family—what more could a reader ask for in a heroine? However, in Antigone, we already have a main character or “heroine” if you will. Eurydice’s story is best left to her own tragic play.

Again I say—it seems to be a transgression against the soul to allow one’s mother to go unmourned—yet in this instance, one must see that it is essential. Just imagine a play solely about Eurydice; about her struggle with Creon through all of this; about the mother in her, aching to help her son. Then see her “loosing the bolts, [and] opening the doors / to appeal to queen Athena” in prayer (ll. 1306-1307). She hears commotion outside and runs to see what has happened. She asks her people to “[t]ell me the news, again… [for] sorrow and I are hardly strangers” (ll. 1311-1312). Then, just as one falls in love with her character, she takes her life. Would any reader not feel overwhelming compassion for her now? Now, of course, I must ask: would this not steal the main character positions away from Creon and Antigone? Of course it would and that is why it is absolutely necessary for Eurydice’s part to remain insignificant.

Works Cited

Sophocles. Antigone. Trans. Robert Fagles. Schilb and Clifford. 733-771.
Schilb, John and John Clifford, eds. Making Arguments about Literature: A Compact Guide and Anthology. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2005.