James' Shelf

I'm feeling pretty good right now. For one, I finished all the papers I needed to for classes. My last three weeks has been filled with Oscar Wilde, Lewis Carroll, William Shakespeare, and Boethius. It was interesting, but I've had enough for a while. I feel as confident as I can about them, but I'm at the point where I don't really give a shit; I just want to be done...and I am.

Also, last night, I ended up going to Scott's to finish up some mixing on the Bandits EP. After about five hours, we got it to sound so much better. Except for "Javier" and a small guitar part on "Love Lovely," the songs are done. OK, I'm going to read.

If you're not Kyle, check out Bandits music.

I'm as tired as ever. It's been very heard staying awake so far today. To make it even more difficult, I have to complete quiz after quiz for my Age of Dinosaurs class, which is complete bullshit. But, I wouldn't say this is all bad. I was up late last night, reading On the Road, I'm feeling more relaxed after finishing my Victorian Literature paper, and classes are over after Wednesday. I'm so close to being done with this semester. So though I feel like I'm going to suddenly wake up on my desk after an hour or two, at least I have enough time to do so, if necessary.

Just a side note: Mr. and Ms. Harwood are here, so I really don't think that sleeping on furniture would be acceptable.

    When we think about Britain from approximately 1837 to 1901, we often associate the turmoil that was a product of identity crises. Because of this turmoil, it no surprise that the people living there at the time were shaped to fit the Victorian mold. Some characteristics of the Victorian mold include a strict regiment of social expectations that were forced upon individuals, paired with an inability to associate oneself with a sturdy identity. Countless Victorian writers approached this common theme in a variety of ways, usually involving some sort of escape for their characters. Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Oscar Wilde’s Importance of Being Earnest employ the theme of social expectations and the common lack of identity that accompanies those expectations.
Lewis Carroll’s escape was known as Wonderland. He set Alice, his young, female protagonist in Wonderland to make distinctions between what was expected of her by society and what she truly wanted for herself. The struggle between these two forces can be seen weighing down on Alice, causing her identity to falter. She tells us “it’s no use now, to pretend to be two people! Why, there’s hardly enough of me left to make one respectable person” (Carroll 19). This inability of Alice to act as two people causes her instead to labor between one and the other. One event that clearly shows the relationship between society’s expectations and Alice’s identity is when Alice comes across a bottle with a label, saying, “DRINK ME,” accompanied by a glass box containing a piece of cake, neatly laid inside, with the words “EAT ME” written on top. One can assume that this scene was laid out especially for Alice, seeing as she was enticed to follow the white rabbit to the very spot the food and drink sat. As expected of her, Alice drank the contents of the bottle and ate the piece of cake that sat waiting for her in the glass box. Both the contents of the bottle and the cake altered her physical appearance. The drink caused her to shrink in size, while the piece of cake caused her to grow, offsetting the liquid’s effects on her body. From this point on, Alice tries repeatedly, without success, to return to her original size. This could be seen as a physical manifestation of her faltering identity.
    However, this physical change is just one of the many instances that we see Alice’s characteristics starting to mold together with what is expected of her. Possibly the most revealing dialogue in all of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland is between Alice and the Caterpillar. In their conversation, Alice’s identity is questioned, her response to this questioning is shown, and a cure for her inconsistent size is finally revealed to her, all of which are events that point to the theme of an identity crisis. When asked “Who are you?” by the Caterpillar, Alice responds by saying, “I—I hardly know, Sir, just at present—at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then” (55). Alice is forced to recognize her change in self, and just as important, the distinction between what she knows to be her normal life and the life she begins to lead in Wonderland is made more clear. She continues on to say, “I ca’n’t explain myself, I’m afraid, Sir…because I’m not myself, you see” (55). Alice seems more confident in the fact that she is someone else. She is very straightforward with the Caterpillar, though she is still confused about her identity, showing that Alice seems to surrender to the change that is overtaking her sense of self. As well as the questioning and realization of Alice’s identity, the conversation between her and the Caterpillar reveals a cure for Alice’s physical change in size. After the Caterpillar tells Alice that the mushroom he had been sitting on held both the power to make her shrink and also to grow in size, Alice was once again faced with a decision: “Alice remained looking thoughtfully at the mushroom for a minute, trying to make out which were the two sides of it; and, as it was perfectly round, she found this a very difficult question” (61). This sheds light on the Victorian theme of an identity crisis. The decision, though seemingly simple, is actually very complex. Alice realizes that eating one side of the mushroom or the other holds great consequences for her, and because of the gravity of the decision, Alice’s inner struggle is made known.
    Throughout Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Carroll also uses Victorian etiquette as a way of exemplifying social expectations. Kortum offers, “Victorian etiquette writers remind us, even a rustic repast had its prescribed decorum” (Kortum). Alice’s response to this expected decorum is a significant example of her overall interaction with society. At one point, the Duchess comes to talk to Alice. Carroll tells us of the Duchess: “Alice did not much like her keeping so close to her: first, because the Duchess was very ugly, and secondly, because she was exactly the right height to rest her chin on Alice’s shoulder, and it was an uncomfortably sharp chin. However, she did not like to be rude, so she bore it as well as she could” (103). We see the division between Alice’s inner feelings and what she ends up conveying to the outside world. Lee offers, “Throughout the novel, we see Alice in conflict with certain societal rules – there are several occasions when she is frustrated with what others say and do to her. But only those privy to her innermost thoughts (i.e., the readers) are capable of seeing her true feelings on any matter” (Lee). We know that Alice thinks that the Duchess is an unattractive, uncomfortable woman. However, if we were not seeing the world from Alice’s view, we would not have known this. We would never know that inside, Alice was actually having to “bore it as well as she could.” Though this may seem like simply a thought inside Alice’s head, it can be used as an illustration of the submission she must give in to, in order to convey acceptable behavior. It could be said that the Duchess and Alice are simply acting out a scaled down version of what was happening because of societal expectations forced on people.
    In Wonderland, Alice is constantly at war with the society around her. She has to make decisions between what she understands to be acceptable in society and what she knows to be her customary way of acting. The fact that we see both in contest with each other allows us to examine why Carroll put Alice in the overbearing society. One could say that Carroll’s creation of Wonderland mirrored the Victorian society that he inhabited. To the same effect, Alice acted as any person living under Victoria’s rule. She acted like a pawn that Carroll could move around, according to what he must have experienced firsthand—a Victorian life of sacrificing a part of his self so he was accepted into society.
    Like so many authors of the time, Oscar Wilde dealt with the theme of societal expectations and the identity crises that go along with them. In Wilde’s Importance of Being Earnest, Jack Worthing leads a double life. He is a rich man in a society where the rich are superior. However, Worthing still feels that it is necessary to have an escape ready when it becomes too much. His escape is a double life led in London, where he is known as Ernest. Along with the double life that he leads, Jack knows very little about his lineage and even his birth. The only fact that he knows about his life is that he was found in “an ordinary hand-bag…in the cloak-room at Victoria Station” (Wilde 368). To fully understand the significance of these two pieces of information that Jack offers about his life is to recognize Wilde’s connection between societal pressures and a lack of identity.
    Jack’s best friend, Algernon Moncrieff, is right when he infers Jack’s intentions in leading a double life. Algernon says, “You have invented a very useful younger brother called Ernest, in order that you may be able to come up to town as often as you like” (355). In creating Ernest, Jack always has a reason for leaving the country and visiting London. In London, Jack can live the life that he cannot live in the country; he is able to escape the monotony of Victorian life. Jack’s dislike of social expectations is shown in the conversation between him and Algernon. After Algernon asks what Jack does when he is in the country, Jack answers, “When one is in town, one amuses oneself. When one is in the country one amuses other people. It is excessively boring” (349). It seems that Jack’s dislike of the country is dependent on whether he has to entertain other people and act the part of an acceptable member of society. More specifically, when Algernon asks, “Got nice neighbors in your part of Shropshire,” Jack answers, “Perfectly horrid! Never speak to one of them” (349). This hilarious dialogue between the two Victorian gentlemen tells a lot about the way people were expected to entertain and socialize, even if they did not wish to. It is because of these social expectations that Jack’s double life is created. Nevertheless, this desire to escape pressures from society results in Jack losing touch with a part of himself. The Importance of Being Earnest “implies that the whole society has become hypocritical: ‘being a good person’ in this society means denying to oneself one's own emotional needs and desires. Since everyone has desires and needs, even nice people become ‘hypocritical’” (A Transition to The Importance of Being Earnest). In London, he is known as Jack and we come to find out that this is not his real name; it is Ernest. So because of Jack’s departure from the Victorian country life, he becomes a part of a world of unknown identities and false names.
However, Jack tells Algernon, “If Gwendolen accepts me, I am going to kill my brother, indeed I think I’ll kill him in any case” (356). We can see that Jack clearly sees the problems that arise when leading a double life. What is particularly interesting about this statement from Jack is the fact that his faltering of identity would stop if he marries Gwendolen, reintroducing the importance of Jack’s name. Because of the newfound origin of his name, Jack and Gwendolen plan to get married, ending Jack’s double life in London. It is only when he finds a true name and a sound life with Gwendolen that Jack is able to participate in a genuine Victorian life. One could say that Jack, in claiming a name and a wife, settles for the monotonous life, common for people of the era. Rather than running off to London whenever he needs an escape, he closes a half of his life and assumes the other half. From this, one could also conclude that Wilde’s choice of The Importance of Being Earnest as the title of the play is ironic in its meaning. For Jack, the importance of being Earnest means being true to the life that he was given, even if it means going against what he desires to do. When the name of Ernest and the marriage of Gwendolen become a part of who Jack is, he is forced to stop the trips to London, symbolizing the death of his freedom to live as an individual.
    The Victorian crisis of identity is a prominent theme in Victorian literature, along with the social expectations that cause one’s identity to waver. In much of the literature written in Britain at the time, there is a strong presence of wanting to break free of the societal hold on an individual’s sense of self. The use of an escape was an effective way for authors to allow their characters (and coincidently, themselves) to make the break from society. Though escaping usually meant altering one’s physical or mental state, it eventually lead to the realization and acceptance of a true, sturdy identity.
















Works Cited


"A Transition to The Importance of Being Earnest." University of Central Arkansas Faculty. 1993. University of Central Arkansas. 18 Apr 2008 <http://faculty.uca.edu/~bonniem/WWEarnestTransition.htm>.

Carroll, Lewis. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass. New York: Barnes & Noble Classics, 2004.

Kortum, Sarah. "The Allure of Picnics." Victoria 10.7Jul 1996 19 Apr 2008 <http://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&db=aph&AN=9606272048&site=ehost-live>.

Wilde, Oscar. The Plays of Oscar Wilde. New York: Vintage, 1988.

What the hell am I going to write about? Writers are supposed to be interesting...or at least transform a boring life into something interesting. I really don't think I'm that good. I mean, Jack Kerouac made getting into a truck, getting out of the truck, and eating pie so enthralling. I didn't even head West today. I worked on a paper for my Victorian Literature class. It was about Lewis Carroll and Oscar Wilde. I don't know how I feel about it. It sounds a little weak. I was watching a documentary on Bob Dylan tonight and of course they had to interview Allen Ginsberg. Hearing both Dylan and Ginsberg talk about writing just depressed me. I saw a picture of Dylan, smoking a cigarette and hunched over a typewriter in Joan Baez's house in the middle of the country. I wondered if he had more inspiration than me, or if he was just more talented. Here is a picture of me...

I'm sitting on my back porch in the middle of the night. Except for the occasional car going down 34th St., it's completely silent. It's a bit cool out. I'm completely relaxed and I feel like if there was a perfect time to write, this would be it. But what the hell am I going to write about? Maybe that's my problem; maybe if I suddenly thought of a fantastic idea for a story, it would simply flow out of me. But I need to start at step one: what to write about.

My problem the past few years, or, since I've been attempting to write fiction, it has always revolved around my Dad. The protagonist is always some guy around my age, usually with a name that starts with a J. Well, that J has a fractured relationship with his Dad and the story always seems to end with J's father dying before they can even begin to fix what problems they have in their relationship. You know, it's one of those stories that is supposed to pull the heart strings, maybe even make you cry because that's what I feel like doing when I think about me and my Dad. That's so melodramatic, though. I feel like the shitty-relationship-between-young-male-and-father story has been done countless times. I want to try and avoid that. What I absolutely know for sure is that I don't want to make people laugh, at least not write a story that's built on laughs. A laugh here and there is OK, but I'd rather write something profound, maybe even important?

The war seems like an obvious subject, but I know nothing about the experience of a soldier; I don't even know anyone that has been to the Middle East. I just know that the war is the best example of how fucked this country is and that there seems to be no hope. I don't think I can write a short story about that, let alone attempt a novel. Supernatural, horror, mystery, etc. just aren't what I'm into. Science fiction is great, but I think I'd end up writing a story that belongs to late-night Sci-Fi channel adaptations (though there is nothing wrong with those).

I just wish that a Twain/Faulkner/Vonnegut/Hemingway/Salinger/Wilde...Christ, even something as far back as a Voltaire would decide to hang out in my fingers for a while, just to see what happens.

It's late. I'm getting up early and the thought of it is making me tired. But one more point: I've been thinking about religion a lot lately. Maybe that's a place to start.