Friday, September 29, 2017

Compatibility between Brett and Jake

Brett's someone who's expressive about her feelings. When she's miserable or needs help, she lets Jake know. Jake on the other hand, as we've said in class, controls his feelings and presents a sorta "stoic" image. Even when we're seeing everything from Jake's perspective, he doesn't really let us in on his feelings. There's not a whole lot of introspection or internal dialogue, and that makes it difficult to tell what he's actually thinking or feeling. I suppose that's a part of Hemingway's iceberg theory, and thus partly a stylistic choice. Still, it makes me wonder if Brett and Jake are compatible if they keep living like this.

What exactly is this? We talked a lot in class about Brett and Jake's relationship, and how it always seems like Jake is the one giving, and that Brett doesn't really seem to give anything back. Because of Jake's injury, they can't have a fulfilling sexual relationship, and thus Brett needs to be with other men (at least for that aspect of a relationship). What can you do in a relationship without sex? Communicate and provide each other with companionship, right? But if Jake's so closed off about his emotions, and Brett relies on him so much for hers, is this relationship really going to be sustainable? If they can't communicate with each other properly--take the example of Brett not telling Jake about Cohn--then how can they work in an already difficult (ie. sexless) situation? How can you continue to love someone you can't share things with and don't know well?

As one panel presentation group proposed, many of the characters in The Sun Also Rises seem to drink in order to escape their problems and the reality of things. At the end of the novel, Brett keeps telling Jake that he doesn't have to drink. But he doesn't listen, providing another example of when he drinks away his sorrows (if I can put it like that). It's especially destructive, since he doesn't seem to be willing to tell Brett how he actually feels. Alcohol seems to be one of his only solaces. Even with Brett, who's presented as "tight" all so very often, has someone (Jake) she can confide in (for most things at least). Is this end the beginning of Jake realizing that he's not getting (or can't get) what he wants (or needs) out of this relationship?

Friday, September 15, 2017

Frances

From what we've seen of Frances, she seems like a pretty off-putting character. Even before we get her name, we're introduced to the fact that how she took up with Robert Cohn simply to "rise with" his magazine, and how when it didn't, "she became a little disgusted with Cohn and decided that she might as well get what there was to get while there was still something available". From this, we can presume that Frances isn't with Robert because she loves or really cares about him, but because she wants things from him (at least from Jake's point of view). An example would be the dinner scene that followed these bits of description, and how Frances seems incredibly jealous and possessive. From what we can gather, it seems like Frances disapproves of Robert’s interactions with any girl. How come? I'd say it's because she doesn't want to lose him, as she thinks he's all she can get. And how does this affect Robert? I'd say that it makes him feel anxious and resentful. When we introduce Brett to the picture, and how Robert becomes infatuated so easily, it makes sense that he’d want to break things off with Frances. Brett seems to be confident and free, while Frances seems insecure and controlling. Brett is refreshing, while Frances is suffocating.

The way Frances talks to Robert in chapter 6 is a bit disturbing. Jake tells us how she’s wearing a “terribly bright smile” while saying extremely manipulative and hurtful things, and how “it was very satisfactory to her to have an audience for this”. If I were to practice a bit of armchair psychology (to use that term colloquially -- maybe it’s not really psychology but just being a bit presumptuous), I’d say that Frances is very insecure and hurt and this is how she deals with those feelings. One thing that she says that I think is suggestive of a warped mindset is when she complains about her “rotten luck”.

“And I don’t know now if any man will ever want to marry me. Two years ago I could have married anybody I wanted, down at Cannes. All the old ones that wanted to marry somebody chic and settle down were crazy about me. Now I don’t think I could get anybody.”

There are a couple problems with this. One, it’s just another example of how she doesn’t actually love Robert (and, let’s be clear here, he doesn’t seem to love her either -- but that’s for another time) and has been staying with him just to be provided for. Maybe she also enjoyed a sense of security and control, I don’t know. Another -- she seems to be placing too much of an emphasis on her appearance. I think Jake also touched upon this subject in an earlier chapter; now that she’s older, she’s less confident in how she looks and her ability to start a new relationship based off of those looks. Obviously this is concerning because it’s not only a shitty personal issue (placing your self-worth in how you look and not much else), but because it’s indicative of the societal expectations of women at that time. And third, and similarly, she seems to be focused not on her love for someone else, but on if someone else (who could provide her a lot of things) would be willing to marry her.



Friday, September 1, 2017

Love

From what we’ve read of Mrs. Dalloway, a significant thread seems to be Clarissa’s experiences (or lack thereof) with love, and how that affects her reminiscences of the past and her relationships of the present.

And what was this except being in love?

At Bourton, at age 18, during that fateful summer... Was Clarissa truly(1) in love with Sally, or was she merely(2) infatuated? Even if it were the latter, I don't think it would diminish the significance and value of their relationship and Clarissa’s experiences (which included “the most exquisite moment of her whole life”). However, it would prompt us to examine Clarissa’s life more carefully(3). Clarissa, it seems, was definitely enthralled with Sally — her worldliness, her extraordinary beauty, her sort of abandonment. But like we’ve reiterated so many times in class, due to Clarissa’s upbringing and the time period (among many other factors, I’m sure), a fulfilling lesbian relationship with Sally would have been completely off the table — Clarissa never would have even thought of it as a possibility. Thus, admiration and protectiveness are what Clarissa use to characterize her old feelings, and even now, Clarissa isn’t sure exactly if those things were indicative of love. 

How important is the idea of love in comparison to other things that are necessary for a healthy relationship? From what we’ve seen of Richard Dalloway, he seems like a pleasant person who really cares about (and perhaps even loves) Clarissa (despite not being able to tell her that in their first interaction that we’re shown). Sure, there doesn’t seem to be that much passion or vibrancy(4) in their relationship, but there is security, support, and mutual respect and understanding. While Clarissa feels as though she has somehow failed Richard, Richard does not seem to be aware of such a failure at all, continuing to be as earnest and sincere as possible. Is that enough to continue sustaining the relationship? Does he have enough love for two? I suppose if he's been able to for (around?) twenty years, it should be possible to continue to do so.

(1) I suppose by using “truly”, I might be making things more complicated. Being in love must be different for different people, and so I guess it’s probably not that great, as a bystander, to try and set certain standards, and call into question if a love is true or not. If Clarissa thinks that she was in love, then who’s to tell her otherwise?
(2) I guess using “merely” might make it seem like I’m making light of infatuations, so I’d like to clarify. It’s used in order to signal how much more love can be than an infatuation. It doesn’t mean infatuations are silly (though they definitely can be) or aren’t worth very much (the things one feels, of course, are completely legitimate).
(3) Not really in a “what’s wrong with her, why can’t she be in love” way, but in a “huh, how come" way.
(4) Butterflies in one’s stomach, flutterings in one’s heart, chills down one’s spine... Feelings of exhilaration or excitement, I guess?