Showing posts with label Angel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Angel. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Black Skin, White Masks - gods, frauds

According to Fanon, "[t]he colonized is elevated above his jungle status in proportion to his adoption of the mother country's cultural standards. He becomes white as he renounces his blackness, his jungle" (18). But the colonized is only "elevated" amongst his people - "In France one says, "He talks like a book." In Martinique, "He talks like a white man"" (21). This is evident in the conversation between Ellis and the butler in Burmese Days, Chapter 2:
'How much ice have we got left?'
''Bout twenty pounds, master. Will only last today, I think. I find it very difficult to keep ice cool now.'
'Don't talk like that, damn you--"I find it very difficult!" Have you swallowed a dictionary? "Please, master, can't keeping ice cool"--that's how you ought to talk. We shall have to sack this fellow if he gets to talk English too well. I can't stick servants who talk English. D'you hear, butler?'
'Yes, master,' said the butler, and retired.
There seems to be no win-win situation between the colonized and the colonizer - if he speaks the language of the colonizers he's a fraud, if he doesn't, he's a savage.
One question though..
At the end of Fanon's paper is the excerpt by Michel Leiris.. Is he talking about the French language when he says "resort to a mode of speech that they virtually never use now except as something learned" (40)? or is he referring to French-Creole?
Anyway just some other random thoughts/things:
I found this rather interesting, something I yahoo-ed..
But our histories, for once generous, gave us a second language. At first, it was not shared by everyone. It was for a long time the language of the oppressors - founders. We did conquer it, this French language. If Creole is our legitimate language, we gradually (or at once) were given and captured, legitimated and adopted the French language (the language of the Creole white class). Creoleness left its indelible mark on the French language, as did other cultural entities elsewhere. We made the French language ours. [. . . ] Our literature must bear witness of this conquest. [. . . ] Creole literature written in French, therefore, soon invest and rehabilitate the aesthetics of our language. Such is how it will be able to abandon the unnatural use of French which we had often adopted in writing.

From Eloge de la Créolité -- Jean Bernabé, Patrick Chamoiseau, Raphael Confiant, 1990 (1989)
(The three authors represent a new wave of French Antillean intellectuals; this book is their poetic manifesto, their aesthetic genealogy, their statement of Creole identity. Translated by M. B. Taleb-Khyar, it first appeared in English in the journal Callaloo.)
And another thing: Me and my friend were having a random conversation about Gong Li and her Singaporean citizenship, and when talking about what if a famous Singaporean was to become the citizen of another country, what would happen? Would there be outbursts like those in China? My friend said that it was unlikely cause we're apathetic. Are we?

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Pieces of Empire

Jackson's article highlights several issues that contribute to the contradictory/tense relationship between the British Empire and Ireland. One such issue is that of differential treatment of the Irish Catholics. What is interesting for me, I guess, is that here differential treatment and biasness is based on religion rather than race/colour seeing, that both the Irish and British are after all caucasians.

How much 'stronger' (for lack of a better word) is religion a driving force to discriminate and rule over in comparison to race as a dividing category? Does Portrait give us readers anything to back up this statement?

And just a sidepoint - I think the fragmented nature of the text reflects the fragmented colonial state which is in part a product of the various government structures (which complicate colonial ruling - it becomes a mess as Jackson puts it in the article).

In addition, in relation to this module... the texts have so far discussed the different colonial situations in various parts of the world - Burma, India, Ireland.. this I suppose, grants us a better insight into colonialism/imperialism. The spectrum of voices and perspectives is modernist in its multiplicity which rebels against the fixed certain-tude (is there even such a word?) of texts narrated by a third person.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Putting a face to imperialism/colonialism

I have no clue how Leonard Woolf looks like, but somehow, strangely, I feel that he has managed to put a human face to imperialism/colonialism. But why? Has it to do with this 'frank' feeling I get while reading the text? Or is it because he was (so he claims) "a very innocent, unconscious imperialist" (25)?
Unlike the other texts, I find that Woolf's autobiography provides a new perspective into imperialism/colonialism. While it addresses the negative aspects of modernity on the empire - changing the natural landscape (48), erasure of culture (49), the hum drum of the machinery (53), it also points out the positive aspects - efficiency of a regulated system (110), etc... The text recognises the tension of "holding the balance" (110), perhaps it is its awareness of the "difficulties and the frictions" (111) of imperialism that somehow neutralizes this text.
Is it just me, or is this text very comforting? Odd word, but I do not find myself cringing or horrified as I was with the other texts.. maybe it is the lack of abuse and military might.

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Victimization of Women

Stoler asserts that European women were controlled and 'policied' "by reaffirming the vulnerability of white women and the sexual threat posed by native men" (60). This positioning of women as weak, vulnerable and fragile has been and still is repeated across various instances of war.

In A Passage to India, we have the incredulous belief that "the darker races are physically attracted by the fairer" (222), thus placing the European woman as vulnerable to the sexual appetite of native men.

Part of Hilary Clinton's speech at the First Ladies' Conference on Domestic Violence, 17 Nov 1998: "Women have always been the primary victims of war. Women lose their husbands, their fathers, their sons in combat".
http://clinton3.nara.gov/WH/EOP/First_Lady/html/generalspeeches/1998/19981117.html

In an article titled, "The Independent Experts’ Assessment on the Impact of Armed Conflict on Women and Women’s Role in Peace-building", Rafeeuddin Ahmed, Chef de Cabinet to UN Secretary-General Kurt Waldheim says: "In retrospect, I realize how much of my perception about women in war was influenced by the media. The incessant images of desperation and victimization tell only part of the story. The other part, the strength, courage and resilience, is rarely captured".
http://www.es.amnesty.org/uploads/tx_useraitypdb/women_war_peace.pdf

Women are constantly positioned and depicted as victims. However, I feel that Elizabeth of Burmese Days is somewhat a robust character. She appears to be a rather 'strong' character in the sense that she does not burst into tears (chapter 23 when Verall leaves at the train station, rather than bawling "she would betray nothing"), instead she is rather aggressive and assertive.

Therefore, what I mean to say is that Orwell doesn't really depict the vulnerability of European women (as per the character Elizabeth). But what is interesting is the vulnerability of European men to the sexual threat posed by native women is instead presented to us readers.

P.S. The darn page has an error and so I wasn't able to italize or underline anything properly. Dang it.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Native-Colonial Friendships

What struck me as interesting of Orwell's Burmese Days was the seemingly similar relationship between Forly and Dr. Veraswami, and Forster's Fielding and Dr. Aziz in A Passage to India (Hey. They're both doctors.. interesting. Not.)

To me, these two native-colonial friendships reveal the inevitable strain between people of different races during the colonial period. As A Passage to India aptly ends with the notion that it was a matter of 'wrong time, wrong place' (316).

In Burmese Days, Flory and Dr. V share a close intimate relationship which is strangely 'allowed', unlike an "alliance, partisanship" (Burmese Chap. 6) which was forbidden. (Why so?) This, to me, is rather odd. And as much as Flory disses the colonial enterprise he "lack[s] the small spark of courage" (Chap. 5) that is required to make the right choice. He gives in to the immense pressure to act like a sahib (Chap. 13), this calls to mind Shooting An Elephant.

Similary, in A Passage to India, this pressure is summed up by the line, "The English always stick together!" (235) and that Fielding has once again abandoned Aziz for Miss Quested (236).

I think this native-colonial relationship presented in Burmese Days highlights an interesting point that not all the Englishmen were nasty buggers, some were under immense pressure to conform to both colonial and native expectations. To an extent, I actually find Shooting An Elephant and Burmese Days slightly sympathetic of the plight of 'certain' Englishmen.

P.S.: Am using the online text for Burmese Days so no page numbers! Pardon!

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Interesting Angle - Shooting

It is interesting to me how the story begins by providing an 'honest' view of a European official trapped - he "was stuck between [his] hatred of the empire [he] served and [his] rage against the evil-spirited little beasts who tried to make [his] job impossible". This 'in between-ness' is then declared a "normal by-product of imperialism", what then is the real product of imperialism? Did the "early British administrators in India [really intend] to train the people of India to govern and protect themselves ... rather than to establish the rule of a British bureaucracy?" (Chatterjee 14).

I think Orwell's story provides some sort of an answer. The shooting incident reveals "a better glimpse ... of the real nature of imperialism – the real motives for which despotic governments act". Lets just say the British administrators really intended on 'helping' the Indians modernise, however the immense pressure to "to act like a sahib ... to appear resolute, to know his own mind and do definite things" prevents them from actually 'helping' the Indians, but reproduces the act of enslavement?

Simply put (I hope):
The immense pressure to rule, to be a figure of authority is that which fuels the colonial ambition and prevents any real 'help' from being given to the Indians.

I think Shooting An Elephant takes a rather sympathetic slant in addressing the colonial situation in India, and raises the question - to what extent was imperialism/colonialism in India a product of context (pressure) and/or the expectations of the natives?

P.S. Sorry about the rambling guys!

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Oh Lordy Jim..

"[T]he horror, the horror" - Heart of Darkness

Here are just some characteristics of modernism that I gleaned from the first 30 chapters:

1. There is an “emphasis on impressionism and subjectivity in writing … an emphasis on how seeing (or reading or perception itself) takes place, rather than on what is being perceived” (Klages, 165)

This is evident in the way Marlow sees/reads Jim’s reactions and the focus on seeing and perceiving: “I am trying to interpret for you into slow speech the instantaneous effect of visual impressions” (Chap. 5), “He drew up his heavy eyelids. Drew up, I say – no other expression can describe the steady deliberation of the act” (Chap. 13), “I strained my mental eyesight …” (Chap. 19)

2. There is a “blurring of distinctions between genres” (Klages, 165)

I found the first 30 chapters to be like an interview (?) and a captain or rather water clerk’s log all mixed in one. Does this count?

3. And obviously, there is “an emphasis on fragmented forms, discontinuous narratives”, which I suppose is the root of my confusion/frustration with the text.

The sudden bridge in chapter 4:
“And later on, many times, in distant parts of the world, Marlow showed himself willing to remember Jim, to remember him at length, in detail and audibly” – It moves from Jim at trial to how Marlow would remember him, to Marlow’s memory of setting his eyes on Jim for the first time at the inquiry and then back to the inquiry and so on and so forth.

In addition there seems to be reluctance on Jim’s part for his story to be told: “His voice ceased” (Chap. 13), he leaves a lot hanging – “It was as if I had jumped into a well – into an everlasting deep hole…” (Chap. 9)

(300!)

P.S.: I got the characteristics of modernism from Literary Theory: a guide for the perplexed. Klages, Mary.

P.P.S.: My version of the text is terrible compared to the “toilet paper” text, so only chapters provided, my apologies!

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Heart of Darkness - Artworthy?

In "An Image of Africa", Chinua Achebe states:

“It seems to me totally inconceivable that great art or even good art could possibly reside in such unwholesome surroundings.”

Which got me thinking: what qualifies as art? Who decides what is and what isn’t art? Is it possible for art to be untainted – without a trace of racism, homophobia, misogyny, xenophobia, atheism? Does Conrad’s positioning (by Achebe) as a “bloody racist” exclude Heart of Darkness from the category of great art / “permanent literature”?

I personally do not see the great art-ness of Heart of Darkness (yet), but I do think that all art is tainted. To me, all art necessarily involves violence – a violence done unto reality by its transference onto canvas / paper. Art is about perspective, and Heart of Darkness is Conrad’s perspective of Africa (albeit a racist one).

Taken from http://www.kirjasto.sci.fi/jconrad.htm:
Conrad crystallized his often quoted goal as a writer: "My task which I am trying to achieve is, by the power of the written word, to make you hear, to make you feel - it is, above all, to make you see. That - and no more, and it is everything."

That is exactly what Heart of Darkness does. Conrad recreates the Africa he perceived which mirrors “the dominant image of Africa in the Western imagination”. Can we blame him for being born into a century of imperialism and blindness? I think not. Heart of Darkness is indeed racist but it enables its 21st century audience an insight into Western colonial perception of Africa, and hopefully by doing so it prevents us from continuing the ‘colonial legacy of racism’.

(271)

Here are some quotes pertaining to art which I found interesting:

Every great work of art has two faces, one toward its own time and one toward the future, toward eternity. ~ Barenboim, Daniel

No great artist ever sees things as they really are. If he did, he would cease to be an artist. ~ Oscar Wilde

All great art comes from a sense of outrage. ~ Glenn Close

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

The Wretch of My Week

Frantz Fanon's "On Violence", was an aggravating piece to consume and dissect.

For the first few pages it was easy to see his line of argument.
I found his style of writing concise and compelling, and saw much relevance to Forster's A Passage to India in terms of:
The two "species" - the colonists and the colonized; the "compartmentalized world" as exemplified by the divided landscape and divided spheres in which the two "species" operate in Passage; the violence imposed upon the colonized through the (militant) gaze (4); how the "colonist turns the colonized into a kind of quintessence of evil" (6) - Aziz and so forth.

And what I found interesting (as well as confusing) was:

"The "thing" colonised becomes a man through the very process of liberation" (2) - Then what was this "thing" before it was colonized? If it was not colonized in the first place, would it be a man/woman? The colonized man is only reduced to the status of a "thing" in the act of colonization.

"The cause is effect: You are rich because you are white, you are white because you are rich" (5) - I know this is important somehow, but why? Does this in anyway apply to Passage?

"The ruling species is ... "the others"" (5) - I found this interesting, it became clear to me that somehow I've always seen the native as the other.

However as his argument developed over the several, many pages... I began to lose track of his point and had to search for key points. I found the latter part of this reading not particularly useful to the study of Passage as it began to talk about the liberation of the colonized and post decolonization. Granted this, the reading did raise several useful ideas: the venting of pent-up muscular tension (20) and the multiple uses for violence (51).

Another thing I found interesting is his advocacy (is this too strong a word?) of violence - "[i]t is naked violence and only gives in when confronted with greater violence" (23). This violence is also seen in his language: "to destroy the colonial world means ... demolishing ... burying it ... banishing if from the territory" (6), "bulldozing" (16), etc...
In some way, he hurls his arguments at us, his readers. He pounds his reader with argument and example one after another, and I think it's his violent language/style that compels me to feel more sympathetic towards the colonized (not that I am not sympathetic).
Perhaps, Fanon's use of violence in terms of language/style is his way of confronting the violence done unto the colonized.

Angel.

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Unpinnable India.

Unpinnable India.

I know “unpinnable” is not even a ‘proper’ word, but you get the drift.
“Unpinnable” – that which cannot be pinned (or rather pinned down in this case)

Reading / consuming the text does not in any way enable one to know India, as revealed in the text in multiple instances - "no one is India" (p.89). India cannot be defined. And I found myself noticing several other instances where this similar notion of the “unpinnable” is evoked:

"while the true India slid by unnoticed" (p.66) – How then do you notice the “true” India when nothing and “no one is India" (p.89)? Is it just impressions that you glean from texts?

“he desired to remember his wife and could not... He had known that she would pass from his hands and eyes, but had thought she could live in his mind, not realizing that the very fact that we have loved the dead increases their unreality, and that the more passionately we invoke them the further they recede" (p.74-5)

"The mere fact of examination caused it to diminish" (p.101)

"But nothing in India is identifiable, the mere asking of a question causes it to disappear or to merge in something else" (p.101)

"Nothing embraces the whole of India, nothing, nothing" (p.156)

"She was only recommending the universal brotherhood he sometimes dreamed of, but as soon as it was put into prose it became untrue" (p.156)

I was wondering if this might in anyway relate back to the inability of words / poetry to capture the essence of a place / emotion / experience. I find Aziz’s frustration with his poetry congruent to this idea.

But at the same time, there are all these labels and racial stereotypes tossed about in the text. How do these smaller issues fit into the big picture?

“It matters so little to the majority of living beings what the minority, that calls itself human, desires or decides” (p. 126)

Somehow this makes it all seem so insignificant, Aziz often refers to the skies and his Moslem religion as something more than all of this, which seems to me to be a search for something more significant / a Truth beyond the material.


Perhaps, this text is really just a passage to India. Not a story about India, just a passage leading up to what India might be, and in passing by we glean an impression of what India is like.

Angel.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Picasso the Colonist

I have dubbed Picasso a colonist for three reasons (and I am sure there are more):
- Superiority (Narcissistically self supposed or otherwise)
- Objectification of the Other
- And the manipulation of the Other

Comparing Levine’s article to that of Gikandi’s I have found several similarities between the British colonial figure and Pablo Picasso. Firstly, the British saw themselves as “kinder”, “persevering, unflinching … patriotic … [and] love order and justice” (Levine 104). They saw themselves as superior in comparison to the colonized (105), and believed that the “modern world belonged ‘to the Anglo-Saxon race alone’” (104). Similarly, the notion of superiority in relation to Picasso emerges with the “routine maintenance” of modernism – the need to “separate the African’s art from his or her body … [so that] it could be cleansed of its danger” (Gikandi 456). This fear of contamination gives us the ‘clean’ white body of Picasso and the ‘filthy’ black body of the African. This idea of contamination is also reiterated by Levine’s article whereby assimilation was a “one-way street”; if any assimilation was to take place it would be the “colonized people who were expected to conform” (107).

*Interlude*
~ Expectations ~

There was nothing special about meeting Picasso. It was a meeting like many others, except that meeting Picasso was a big disappointment. It was a disappointment for stupid little things: I didn’t like how he looked; I didn’t like how he behaved (455).

And I can’t blame Aubrey Williams for feeling disappointed. I know I would be if my heroine turned out to be an “ordinary past-middle-aged” (455) woman. But what is interesting here is not so much that Picasso is “ordinary”, but that we have here an alternative – the Other’s expectation of the “master” (455). What exactly did Williams expect? A larger than life eccentric being? Did Williams place Picasso on a pedestal? Can we then blame the British for thinking they are far more superior than their colonies (Levine 114)?

*Interlude Over*

Secondly, both the British colonial figure and Picasso objectify the Other. “For many colonists the lands and the peoples of the Empire were also specimens to be listed, categorized and labeled” (Levine 114). Similarly, Picasso objectifies the African body as per his meeting with Williams – all that appeals to Picasso is Williams’s “fine African head” (Gikandi 455). The Africans and the colonized no longer serve as human beings, but mere bodies for calculation and models for art. In addition, Picasso chose “as models masks that seemed to be closer to a familiar European grammar about form and symmetry” (471), even here he selects and differentiates between what should be classified as aesthically suitable for his art.

Finally, both the colonial figure and Picasso manipulate the Other. Behind the “White Man’s Burden” farce, the growing colonies of the British fuelled their economy; it provided them with resources; and gloat points over the French and Dutch in their scramble for power and control (and pride) in Southeast Asia. Similarly, I would say Picasso colonizes African art and body and then “use[s] them to his own head” (Gikandi 468).

Question: Is the white (often male) author/writer/poet a colonizer as well in his/her endeavor to talk/discuss/document the exotic/subaltern/Other?
Angel