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.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
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.
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.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
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.
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