I find the scene after Antonio and Emma make love and they are in the kitchen preparing a meal to be particularly interesting. It is in this scene that she explains what it was like to be an immigrant. She explains to Antonio how she came to Milan with Tancredi and essentially became Italian. She assimilated very well, but in the process lost absolutely all aspects of her real, Russian self. She lost the connection to her culture, thus losing a huge part of her identity. You could even argue she lost it all together by replacing it with her Italian one. She even claims to have forgotten her "real name," though she does relay to Antonio that she is known as Ketish in Russia. The fact that Tancredi gave her the name Emma speaks to how her Italian identity exists only as it is linked to him. In the end of the film, when we see her confess her love of Antonio to her husband Tancredi, he only replies, "You do not exist," coldly removing his jacket from her shoulders. This seems like an immensely harsh insult, but it is essentially true. Her identity as an Italian was invented by him. Everything she knows in Italy is because of him. Now that he has denounced her, in a way, she truly does not exist anymore.
I think we could call her liberated in the final scene of the film. She was sort of trapped in her invented Italian life, and though it wreaked havoc on the entire family, her affair with Antonio set her free. The nod of approval that Betta gives her in the end confirms this. Betta can sort of relate to what it means to be an outcast, as she is a lesbian. However, she finds comfort in her mother keeping this secret, which ultimately gives her the courage to give her mother this approval. I would not call Emma deluded in this scene. Though she has essentially ruined her life and that of those around her, the Italian identity she destroyed was a fabricated one in the first place.

Simple Passion

This text is written in a rather peculiar way. The notion of time does not exist as it does to most people. Normally, people hold the time associated with an event to be as important as the place in which it occurred. I don't necessarily mean the exact time, but rather it's significance in chronology. The author has absolutely no concept of time in this fashion. As she describes, time was simply split into her time with him and her time longing to be with him. I find this to be a very interesting representation because it is true to her experience. During this period with A, her affair with him was her life. Everything else was moved to the periphery; if she wasn't with him, she was shopping for something to make her experience with him more enjoyable, or day dreaming of being with him. Her passion for him was so strong it distorted any normal notion of time into this absolute breakdown.

While reading this, the question of whether or not this infatuation was healthy kept popping into my mind. At first I wanted to dismiss her as crazy and wasting her life. She was living for only a few brief moments, which she seemed not to be able to enjoy at the time. How can it be considered a healthy life when every waking moment was dedicated to him in one way or another. I felt sorry for her. But then I realized just how lucky she actually was. She experienced a level of passion that most people could only dream of, and she had it for a relatively long time, too. This story is just as beautiful as any well inspired love poem, but it is more genuine in that it is written in prose that expresses exactly what it means to say; it is not made up like she made herself up for A. I envy her, for even if her longing for A tortured her in their time apart, it allowed her to experience absolute bliss, if only for fleeting moments.

Like Water for Chocolate

"For the first time in their lives, Tita and Pedro could make love freely." This quote is fairly simple and straightforward, but that doesn't mean it lacks significance. Tita had been destined since birth for sadness, as she couldn't marry thanks to her family's ridiculous tradition. She and Pedro were in love, but any showing of it would hurt those around them and cause Mama Elena to lose her temper. This moment marked the first instance of true happiness for Tita, for she was finally unrestricted in showing her love for Pedro. Ultimately, it caused her death, or the release of her soul, but it was in this death that she finally achieved happiness.
"I know who I am! A person who has a perfect right to live her life as she pleases. Once and for all, leave me alone; I won't put up with you! I hate you, I've always hated you!" Tita screams this tirade to the ghost of Mama Elena, who has come back to haunt her for her affair with Pedro. This quote has been brewing since the beginning of the novel. Mama Elena was horrible to Tita, ruining her life and making her love interest marry her sister, so she could become an old maid and take care of her mother. This quote signifies the rejection of all of the expectations and limitations placed on Tita by her mother. The damage has surely been done already, but Tita at least got the satisfaction putting her mother in her place. However, she also paid for it in pushing Mama Elena to burn Pedro...
"There's one thing for sure. I'm not going to allow you to poison your daughter with those sick ideas you have in your head. I'm not going to let you ruin her life either, forcing her to follow some stupid tradition!" This quote, found in November, shows Tita lashing out against her sister Rosaura the way she did in the last chapter against her mother. Tita lived the hell of being destined to the single life of a care taker, and she wished it upon nobody, especially Esperenza, the niece she loved. It is especially appalling that Rosaura put this fate on her daughter simply to spite Tita, who had an affair with Pedro, her love. It is understandable for Rosaura to spite Tita, but not through the oppression of her own daughter.

Volver

Finally! The man-bashing I was waiting for! Let me begin by saying that I absolutely loved this film. It captivated my interest at every point and told a genuine, touching story. As a man, however, I feel a little snubbed. There are only two major male characters in the story, and though they are major forces in the story, they are not very prevalent in the actual film. The first male character is Paco, Raimunda's wife and Paula's adoptive father. He is only present for the very beginning of the film, but he doesn't need much time for us to develop a hatred for him anyway. He has just lost his job, is apparently a drunkard, and seems to misunderstand sexual cues. On his way to bed, he sees his adopted daughter changing through the crack in her bedroom door, and stares for a second at her nude back. Then as he enters his bed, he aggressively attempts to make love to Raimunda, who refuses his advances. In potentially the most awkward situation I've ever seen depicted in a film, he pleasures himself just inches away from Raimunda, who begins to silently cry. The next day, we find out that Paula has killed him to fight off his attempt to rape her. What a great guy. The second male character is also key to the story, but entirely absent. He is Irene's husband and Raimunda's father. I don't believe his name is actually given. It is revealed later in the film that he actually impregnated Raimunda, his daughter, and that Paula is the product of incest. He also habitually cheated on Irene.

The role of men in this film is thus only to propagate evil. Without the actions of Raimunda's father, there would not have been any issue in the first place, as Irene would never have started the fire that killed him and his lover, meaning she never would have had to go into hiding / act as though she was a ghost. Furthermore, Raimunda would never have been impregnated and Paula would never have been born. Paco also plays his role in giving the women in the story line hell, as he causes Raimunda and Paula to live a lie, with the former having to resort to numerous absurdities to pull it off. The women in this film have all done good and bad; they are not portrayed as perfect characters. However, the bad they have had to do was the direct result of the horrible actions of these men. The women are entirely justified in their actions, being it killing Paco, burying him, or Irene killing her husband and his lover.

Men are evil.

Moderato Cantabile Part 3

Reading the final section of Moderato Cantabile, there was one part which stuck out far more than anything else. The novella is certainly written with reserved style that does not readily suggest meaning to the reader; it is rather difficult at times to understand exactly what is going on, as Duras does not give as many clues as most authors do. There is a remarkable difference in style in the 7th chapter, and especially in its introduction. Duras switches to the passive voice for almost the entire chapter. It begins, "The salmon, chilled in its original form, is served on a silver platter that the wealth of three generations has helped to buy..." This style continues for most of the chapter, save the dialogue which cuts it off. It almost appears as though we are reading stage directions intersected by the lines of a play. The chapter continues to develop, as the reader watches Anne's drunken and tardy presence at the party offend its guests.
This curious change in style, which is abandoned in the final chapter, seems to suggest that these events are beyond Anne's control. She is simply present and going through the motions as best as her drunken mind will allow her, but she is without power. It seems like everybody at the party is equally as powerless, though they are not intoxicated. The party is simply going on because that's what happens, but nobody is an active agent. It is a very dull scene, but makes a strong statement in lacking that power.
The final scene was also intriguing because of the obvious parallels it had to the murder incident with which the story began. Anne sat there, disgraced by her "adultery" in agreement with Chauvin that she should be dead. They were in the same bar where the murder scene occurred just a week prior, having a conversation very close to what we are told is what the women and her husband spoke of. It isn't hard to imagine Anne as that women and Chauvin as the killer, as though the incidents and discussions of the last week were in reality the events prior to the murder. In fact, this view is supported by the conversations between the two of them in the week leading up to this final one. Just as Anne and the guests seemed to only be playing the parts of characters at the party the night before, it is as if Anne has been predestined to this role, though the conversations and exchanges with Chauvin had been two vague over the previous week to foresee this.

Moderato Cantabile 1

The piano lesson that introduces the novel is a frustrating event to analyze. There are three people present. The first is Mademoiselle Giraud, the instructor who tolerates absolutely no incompetence or disobedience. Of the other two present, Madame Anne Desbaresdes and her child, she is clearly the dominant one. She controls the lesson and does not accept Anne's pleas that her child is stubborn. Anne herself is a somewhat weird character. She is not very sure of herself and seems to feel bad for subjecting her child to the strict teaching of Mademoiselle Giraud. For example, she shouts at the child "You've got to learn to play the piano" at one point, yet only a bit later protests that "it upsets me when he does as he's told like that." The lesson would have gone undoubtedly better if the mother weren't there, for she constantly sends both the child and Mademoiselle Giraud mixed signals. She clearly has the best intentions, but has no idea as to how to go about realizing them. The child is the most predictable person present at the lesson. As can be expected of a young child, he is more interested with the motor boat passing in the distance and the loud screaming than learning to play the piano. He even declares at one point, "I don't want to learn how to play the piano." From Mademeoiselle Giraud's complaints that she has explained what "Moderato Cantabile" means countless times, it is safe to assume that the child really understands what it means. He refuses to say it, however, because such an act would recognize the legitimacy of the piano lessons he was receiving.

The situation of the child in this piano lesson reminds me of the plight of women as explained in Maria de Zayas' "Disenchantments of Love." The child has virtually no self agency; he is expected to do exactly as he is told. He attempts to rebel by claiming not to know what "Moderato Cantabile" means, or at least refusing to recite it, and in return, he is chastised. But the greatest connection between these works is the mother. In Moderato Cantible, she plays a similar role as the husbands or fathers of the Disenchantments. She demands that the child conform to the role she has prescribed to him, and he tries to oblige. Such an attempt is impossible, however, for the mother demands contradictory things from him. First she yells at him that he must learn to play the piano, then laments when he actually plays it well, for it upsets her when he "does as he's told like that." The child, like the women of the Disenchantments, has absolutely no chance of playing the role expected of him. Thus, it is no great stretch to say that Duras is protesting the treatment of women in male-dominated societies as that of children.

Dora Part 1

There are some aspects of Freud's "Dora" that could qualifify as literature. The way in which it is written, or rather the nature of the examination itself, lends this work to be more literature than a work of nonfiction. It is virtually impossible for Freud to record exactly what Dora's experience is for several reasons. First off, he is incapable of taking notes or recording her during their sessions. The former because he doesn't wish to put off the patient with the distraction of his note taking, and the latter because of lack of technology. This means that he is forced to give an account that suffers from not being immediately recorded. As accurate as his memory may be, there was still time between Dora saying her thoughts and him recording them in which he could unintentionally alter the record or accidentally omit certain things. Beyond that is the question of how accurate Dora's story is itself. There are both parts she has chosen not to share for lack of comfort or did not realize she was not sharing, as she subconsciously blocked out these details. This work is indeed literature, as it is Freud's account of Dora's treatment, not an objective one.

Sor Juana's Poetry

One common theme in Sor Juana's poetry is the helplessness of women against man's senseless insecurities and general contradictory nature. For example, she writes in Poem 164 of a lover who has called into question her fidelity. He has no proof, only "foolish shadows" and "empty evidence," yet he is convinced that she has been unfaithful. Her words are an ineffective defense, so she wishes he "might look straight into [her] heart." It doesn't matter to him that his accusations have destroyed her, undoing her heart and passing it through his hands; his only concern is his honor and the damage she *may* have done to it.

This theme is seen again in the longer, satirical poem titled Poem 92. She charges that nothing a woman can do can shield her from the cruelty of man. She provides numerous examples of how no response can truly please man, as he is an impossible creature. My favorite stanza asks who is really at fault with the extreme example of prostitution:

"But who has carried greater blame
in a passion gone astray:
she who sins for need of payment,
or he who pays for his enjoyment?"

She charges that, though certainly still not innocent, a prostitute will sell her services out of need, while her customer buys them for mere pleasure. Man takes pleasure in the fall of woman and actively forces it, then blames her for falling.

In Poem 174 she continues to attack the fickle nature of man by complaining of how he stops loving a woman after her beauty has faded, then blames her for her beauty having faded. Woman, however, continues to love man as a person, not as a body.

I think Sor Juana is afforded a lot more breathing room in her poetry than in her literature. To begin with, her poetry is not addressed to anyone in particular, so she has greater freedom to write as she will. Her letters, on the other hand, are directly addressed to a (semi)actual person, so she can not be too bold in her accusations. In her poetry, she does not have to work under the constant restrictions or putting on the guise that she is writing to another nun who is backhandedly praising her, so she can say clearly what she intends. However, I find her letter writing to be more captivating, as it is interesting to watch her make such powerful arguments while remaining disguised.

Sor Juana Day I

Sor Juana's introduction to her response letter sets the tone as somewhat sarcastic, as she practically insults "Filotea" by praising her. She walks a fine line between humility and superiority, or rather uses humility to establish superiority. For example, she explains that she initially was hesitant to respond, not for the same reason that Albertus Magnus could not respond to Thomas Aquinas, who could think of no response worthy of his master out of modesty, but "rather because, in truth, I am unable to say anything worthy of you." If she can say nothing worthy out of modesty, which would put Filotea above her, it means she can say nothing because the opposite is true: Filotea's charge is beneath her. However, she later justifies herself by explaining that, as the Lady has already granted her so much favor in both publishing her work and writing this letter to her, she can expect nothing less of Filotea than to excuse any folly she may commit in writing this response. Basically, she has set it up so that the letter intended to shut her up excuses her from any wrong in continuing to speak.

Filotea's main charge against Sor Juana is that she has applied her wit not to studying God, but rather to the study of Earthly things. In response to this, Sor Juana argues that in studying these Earthly things, she does not neglect the study of God, but rather supports it by giving it a greater context. For example, "Without the science of Architecture, how understand the mighty Temple of Solomon - where God Himself was the Draftsman who set forth His arrangement and plan." She then lists many more examples of how we need a deep understanding of Earthly arts and sciences to truly understand, to the best of our limited ability, the magnificence and the glory of God. She says of the Bible, "In sum, we see how this Book contains all books, and this Science includes all sciences..." (55)

On page 59 she declares, "my lack of profit in it is the fault of my ineptitude and the weakness of my mind, not the fault of variety." This is in relation to her studying a wide array of topics instead of merely focusing on the Bible itself. However, I believe she is saying it to maintain modesty rather than to actually claim that she has not profited from her studies. She is effectually playing dumb to demonstrate how intelligent she is, without being so bold as to actually say so.

Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown

When considering the subject matter of Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown, it may seem inappropriate that the director has adopted such a comedic tone. To treat issues such as heartbreak and terrorism so lightly could be interpreted as childish or immature. However, in adopting this tone, the director has given the film a greater degree of believability. Laughter is often the most effective method to cope with a horrible situation. I often find myself laughing at my own misfortune, especially when it is tinted with irony. Through maintaining this comedic tone, the director has made the film more accessible to his audience, who can relate to the dark humor of the horrific reality of everyday life. Life is absurd - all we can do is hope for the best and laugh off the worst.

I thought the final scene was a perfect ending to the story. I turned a few heads in the library laughing at her apparent nonchalance in walking back into her apartment to find drugged police officers, her friend Candela laying with Ivan's son Carlos, a drugged telephone repair man, and Carlos' fiancee just awaking from her drug-induced stupor. Of course, this almost is normal after stopping Ivan's insane ex-lover from shooting him at the airport in the previous scene. This scene embodies many of the themes of the film. Infidelity is almost expected, as Carlos lays with Candela while his drugged fiancee sleeps on the balcony. Pepa seems to have no problem watching the son of the man who cheated on her cheat on his fiancee, and even acts friendly towards the jilted fiancee as she awakes.

I found most of the female characters interesting for their own quirks, but the most interesting was the feminist lawyer. In her office setting, we see her as professional and rational. She refuses to help Candela because her persecution is not related to her sex, but to the fact that she did willingly and knowingly quarter terrorists. She did not stand for arbitrary and spiteful advancement of women, but rather equality. At this point, she appears to be a person worthy of respect. However, she is later made a mockery of at the Airport as she waits in line with Ivan to go to Stockholm. As Pepa and Ivan speak, she demands that the lawyer "go away" and leave the two of them. Ivan remains silent as the lawyer looks to him for a reaction, implying he also wants her to leave them alone. His traveling partner is revealed to be little more than that, as he clearly prefers to speak with the ex-lover he still pines for, asking her to get a drink with him. She is reduced from being a strong, feminist woman to a object of the adulterous and chauvinistic Ivan as she reluctantly, but without protest, leaves him to his ex-lover. Then she gladly accepts his return after he is denied by Pepa.

The Disenchantments of Love

In the 5th story, the character of dona Ines is virtually powerless. She is completely at the will of those around here. Any action she attempts to take is ignored, thwarted, or otherwise fruitless. She is first victimized by don Diego who serenades and attempts to court her despite her status as a married woman. She is further victimized by the scheming neighbor and her recruited harlot. She does have status, however, as the Mayor comes to her aid in witnessing her confrontation with don Diego after the incident in the church, and then exiling the vile neighbor for her wrong doings. She then falls prey to the Moor's magic, but is exculpated as the Mayor and officers of the peace discover the magic and its effect on her. Still, she is victim of the wrath of her brother, sister in law, and husband, who refuse to accept her innocence over the insult to their collective honor.

I interpret this as a protest that a woman has no standing or chance at respect, no matter how good or pure she is, if she is surrounded by those who are of lesser character or seek to blemish her for their own gain or merely her loss. This good woman has done absolutely nothing wrong, yet is condemned to six years in hellish confinement by those who are supposed to be her protectors and providers. Essentially, woman is powerless. But I fail to see how this is a good case for women. At the end, it is proclaimed that "the most abominable vice there can be... is the failure to value, honor, and praise women, the good ones because they are good and the bad ones for the sake of the good ones." In the stories we have been provided, most women are indeed morally devoid and corrupt. Yet we are supposed to praise them all because of the few good ones we have been provided? In the 5th story alone, we have the neighbor, the harlot, and the sister in law all plotting in one way or another the demise of dona Ines, for their own gain, or in the case of the latter, simply because it is her nature. If not for their evil doing, dona Ines would not be a victim but would have lived happily as a noble and faithful wife of her husband. Don Diego is by no means innocent, but the treacherous neighbor served as enabler of his fantasy, and as a conspirator is just as guilty as he in defaming her. If one judges by intent and not consequence, her actions are indeed far worse. He only wanted to love her, she wished to ruin her and deceive him in the process, all for financial gain and a simple exercise in wickedness.

If De Zayas wishes that we do not judge all women as evil on account of the actions of evil women, she has not given us much of a chance to do so with the characters she has provided. The 4th story is equally as hopeless, as don Jaime is victimized both by the random will of his Lady Suitor and the deceit of his slave. He is an inexcusably horrible person, as he didn't even give his wife and cousin a chance to defend themselves before putting blind faith into the words of a slave, but it is a woman's lie that put him in this rage in the first place. The "bad" women in this book have acted just as terribly as the men it seeks to put on trial, yet we are supposed to praise them simply for being women while chastising all men?

Christine de Pizan pt.1

I believe Christine de Pizan’s apparent gullibility is a device to supplement her argument. She pretends to be persuaded by the arguments of men such as the detestable Matheolus for two reasons. The first reason is to mock these men and their arguments. She satirically feigns agreement to show the absurdity of the idea that “the behavior of women is inclined to and full of every vice” and that “God formed a vile creature when He made woman.” Instead of immediately challenging these ideas, she pretends to prescribe to them to suggest that not only is woman vile and inclined to vice, but also stupid enough not to defend herself from these charges.

The second reason for her apparent gullibility is to establish a power greater than herself as the source of the arguments she presents. Clearly she does not actually intend to argue that three angels or agents of God appeared to her with this mission. However, by being “persuaded” by the lesser arguments of these men, she establishes grounds for the three heavenly Ladies to visit her and challenge the status quo in her stead. Their words carry far more weight than hers alone ever could, as they are agents of God.

For the most part, I agree with de Pizan’s argument as to why men detest or slander women. However, I found the hypothetical situation proposed by Lady Reason to be weak at best. She states that attacking all women because some women have harmed men would be “as if attacked fire – a very good and necessary element nevertheless – because some people burnt themselves, or water because someone drowned. The same can be said of all good things which can be used well or used badly.” My issue with this comparison is that fire is a tool, or in her words, element. It is harnessed, controlled, manipulated, and used by man to his advantage, or if he is careless, his harm. Should one become wild, he extinguishes it. In this sense, fire is good as long as it remains under man’s control. Of course it should not be “attacked’ because careless men burn themselves, but this comparison of woman to fire also suggests that she is good and right only when she is properly under the control of a man.