Novel Summary: Hauntings of the Past

In all four novels we have read, the past directly influences and explains present circumstances surrounding the characters. Dickens dwells on the past frequently throughout Bleak House, especially with Esther. Esther's godmother tells her, "pray daily that the sins of others be not visited upon your head" (30). Esther practices "submission, self-denial, and diligent work" in order to make amends for her mother's sin, and these three habits form the backbone of her character (30). Also, whether or not Lady Dedlock's past sins will ever affect Esther's present is a big question in the novel.
Like the towering Megalosaurus in London, the neverending Chancery suit unites the past and present and shows more than anything how actions in the past may affect the present. The Chancery suit's history directly affects every character in the novel, for better or worse. Dickens shows how the past can be dangerous with Richard's ruin-- Richard delves too deeply into the monstrous Jarndyce and Jarndyce which has dragged on, and he must pay the price.

In The Picture of Dorian Gray, Dorian is constantly haunted by his past actions which are reflected in the portrait. Though at first he is fascinated by his soul's corruption, he eventually grapples with his fear of someone else seeing the hideous painting as well as being disturbed by the grotesque image of his own soul. Indeed, the portrait acts as a chronicle of Dorian's past, and the entire novel is an echo back to when the painting was first produced and Dorian was first corrupted by Lord Henry.

In Mrs. Dalloway, both Clarissa and Peter display extreme nostalgia as their thoughts constantly drift back to the past. Even on the first page of the novel, Clarissa already thinks about the memory of Peter once asking her, "musing among the vegetables?" Thoughts of Peter never cease in Clarissa's mind throughout the novel. Also, Peter is no different. Clarissa and the past is the main topic of musing for him. Many outside incidences and thoughts remind both characters of each other and their past history, whether it be a chance encounter with an old friend on the street or some random thought. Even Rezia constantly thinks about life before Septimus's illness or making hats in the shop in Italy. All three characters are truly haunted by their pasts.

Zadie Smith concentrates heavily on the past's effect on the present in White Teeth, and every single character's history affects him or her substantially. For instance, Samad values the idea that Mangal Pande was a hero so much that when his view is confirmed by a book, Samad weeps with relief. The first sentence of the chapter where Samad decides to sent Magid to India is "and the sins of the Eastern father shall be visited upon the Western sons" (135). Samad's affair propels him to act irrationally, and this action affects his marriage and Magid and Millat's relationship severely. Also, Samad and Archie's entire relationship is based on their common experience in WWII, and they spend most of their time musing on the past. Smith also employs the past to explain present situations of how characters end up where they are, such as citing the fact that Hortense was born during an earthquake to explain her fundamentalist behavior.

Truly, these four books explore the relationship between cause and effect and the different ways that characters handle the connection between past and present, a link that is sometimes fortunate, sometimes disastrous, but always inevitable.

Museum/ Street synthesis: Encounters with Islam

"But she said, sitting on the bus going up Shaftesbury Avenue, she felt herself everywhere; not 'here, here, here'; and she tapped the back of the seat; but everywhere. She waved her hand, going up Shaftesbury Avenue. She was all that. So that to know her, or any one, one must seek out the people who completed them; even the places."
Mrs. Dalloway

To prepare for this entry, I read over the pages of my journal to help me recall the heaps of things we have done on this trip. I ruminated over the fabulous museums, the different neighborhoods, the new and interesting types of food, and the incredible people I've met here. This trip has truly felt like a dream most of the time, simply because of the dizzying and overwhelming things I've seen and felt, in this world so far from my life in Texas. Cliche as it may sound, I feel just a little older and a little wiser from having come here.

I think the aspect that reflects my experience here the most is my contact with Islam. It is so funny-- Islam is one of the main religions in the world, and yet I know almost nothing about it. I thought I did, but London taught me otherwise. Seeing the Muslim women in Hyde Park made my ignorance blatant to me; as I gaped at the women, I noticed the gaping hole in my education and open-mindedness. I still do not know as much as I should about Islam, but I would like to correct this in the future. Then, I had the amazing opportunity to pray in a mosque. I don't think I know a non-Muslim who has prayed in a mosque. I will never forget seeing my own reflection in the glass of the women's section with my classmates and the other Muslim women, kneeling, sitting, praying in a wonderful, synchronized togetherness. I am so very thankful I had the opportunity to pray with these women, and I feel I might have just as easily not, especially in my own little bubble at UT.

These experiences have been most valuable to me, both in fighting my ignorance and humbling me. I am constantly reminded of how much I have yet to learn here, and I am so glad! This may sound cheesy, but I've realized that small moments, like figuring out maps with other people in London, or in quiet moments alone walking around Oxford, or simply observing people on London's streets from the bus, are spiritual. Indeed, I feel I have seen God more times on this trip and in more people than I ever have in my life. My interactions with Islam have added to this so much. We've taken these grand field trips and explored the exciting, bustling city. Yet it is the moments in between, like seeing my reflection in some glass at a mosque, or having the best conversations with people on bus trips, that seem the most real to me, and seem like they matter the most. Like Mrs. Dalloway on the bus, feeling an affinity with the people around her, I have connected with things and people around me like I have at no other time. I hope I will take those moments with me, and I hope that my experience here will translate to UT, even if only a small amount.

Novel #5: Fortuitous Timing in Archie's Life

In White Teeth, chance plays an integral part in no other character's life more Archie's and serves to characterize his easygoing nature and inability to make decisions. In the beginning of the novel, Archie almost commits suicide, but a butcher fortuitously intervenes because of where Archie parked his car. One can imagine that the butcher might have just as easily not intervened; indeed, the narrator says that life "jealously grabbed [Archie] from the jaws of death" (6). The roles of both the butcher and life personified imply that Archie does not control what happens to him, but rather, events in Archie's life are determined more by forces outside of himself. Also, the narrator portrays Archie and Clara's meeting as simply "something [that] happened by accident"--Archie does not take action and look for her, but rather Clara seems to come to him when she descends the staircase (19). These two major events determine the path of Archie's life in the rest of the novel. Therefore, the events suggest both that Archie does not control his own life and that Archie does not want the responsibility of having control over his own life. After all, throughout the novel, he definitely seems to "go along to get along," as seen how he constantly flips a coin for every decision he must make, even when it comes to whether or not he should kill Dr. Sick.

The opening quote of chapter I captures and explains Archie's viewpoint-- that "every little trifle, for some reason, does seem incalculably important today and when you say of a things that 'nothing hangs on it' it sounds like blasphemy" (1). Indeed, judging by how he fears making decisions, Archie seems to think of the world in these weighty cause-and-effect terms. Perhaps his attitude comes from the fact that he sees his own life as pointless and meaningless; after all, at the beginning of the novel, he thinks of his life as "a dull childhood, a bad marriage, a dead-end job" (12). Maybe he sees himself as miniscule in the grand scheme of things and not important enough to make these decisions. Regardless, Archie's extreme easygoing attitude makes it easy for him to heave his decision-making responsibility on other people and factors.

Novel #4: Extraordinary in the Ordinary

Virginia Woolf's expansive sampling of minor characters in Mrs. Dalloway implies that any person's story on any given day is worth writing about. At times, the omniscient narrator in the novel floats around the city and enters the thoughts of random people on the street. For instance, in the span of a few paragraphs, the narrator chronicles the thoughts and actions of men and women of different classes as they all watch an airplane spell out a toffee advertisement. Woolf takes on the voice of these different people and treats all of the people with respect, as seen in her tone as she recounts the people's memories and life situations; for instance, she accounts how Emily Coates thinks of "the housemaids, the innumerable housemaids" when Emily sees the Palace (19). Just in this one phrase, Woolf is able to characterize this young woman and therefore humanize her. Woolf also reveals the deeper natures of others; for example, she says an elder Mr. Bowley is "sealed with wax over the deeper sources of life but could be unsealed suddenly, inappropriately, sentimentally" (20). Woolf is using this poetic description for a man who does not even remain in the story, yet she dwells on him as if he were a major character.

Woolf's way of treating her characters offers a different perspective on how to see random people in the street and perhaps forces readers to consider different types of emotions or thoughts in the minds of the people around them. The hodgepodge of people in the novel makes it easy to imagine Woolf describing any other equally random assortment of people; this adds to the idea that any person may look out of his window and see another assortment of people all interesting in their own ways. Woolf's writing also encourages the reader to look at his own thoughts, for she treats every character's ponderings as interesting and insightful bits of information. Indeed, though Woolf gives some characters more page time than others, her respectful tone remains as she challenges the readers to look deeper at people in their own life.

Museum #3: The Role of a Museum

This afternoon, I visited the Oxford Museum of Natural History with Ann, Lisa, Spencer, Travis, and Scott. We stepped out of the brightly lit Natural History portion of the museum and echoing sounds of children's voices; we then descended some stairs into the other museum which was once a private collection. The dimness of the light had an immediate disorienting effect. We turned the corner and found a cramped room full of display case after display case of trinkets piled on top of each other. I stopped for only a second to snap a picture of the room, and when I looked up, I could not see a single person from my group amid the tall cases. I wondered around in the maze of narrow passages, trying to follow where I thought the group went, when I heard Ann's voice. I saw that Travis and Spencer had lost their way too. The space had a way of confounding and confusing me as I passed by all of the bizarre artifacts of shrunken heads and real mummies staring out at me from behind the glass.

It was all so very bizarre. I have never in my life been to a museum like this, where the items on display are presented like those found in a sideshow act. In a sideshow, people pay to see a two-headed alligator or singing conjoined twins. I felt like this portion of the museum was no different. The dim lights only added to this effect, like the items in the museum were only meant to be seen out of the bright light of day. Many cultures were represented, but hardly in a historical manner. The displays mainly concentrated on the strange and unusual; eating utensils or pots and bowls were not so prevalent as magical trinkets and superstitious items, like a frog's heart with pins stuck in it. This museum made me wonder what exactly is the role of a museum. Is it a museum's job to depict history as accurately as possible, to teach a lesson, or to transport the viewer back in time? What sort of facts should museums be concerned about, and what sort of artifacts or materials qualify as museum-worthy? Also, how does one decide on how to depict an event or culture accurately? And does it even matter? I cannot say that the procurer of the items in this museum asked himself these questions. However, I must say that I certainly did not get bored in that little cramped room. Above everything else, the exhibition was the most interesting and eccentric one I have ever seen in a museum.

Museum #2: Video Quartet

I was ambling around on the fifth floor of the Tate Modern on Friday, looking at the cubist and pop section, when I came across a dark room entitled "Video Quartet" by Christian Marclay. I entered the room and found a most incredible piece--four screens next to each other, each with a different movie clip playing. The movie clips all had to do with music. I walked in to see four different pianos played by four different people, one of which was Holly Hunter in a scene from The Piano. I sat there entranced as each screen changed periodically to reveal cascades of violins, drums, singing, dance, even marching bands. The installation included scenes from some of my favorite movies and musicals--Rex Harrison in My Fair Lady, Doris Day in The Pajama Game, James Stewart, Ann Miller, Frank Sinatra, Louis Armstrong, and countless others. The sounds from the different screens blended together to create a delightful combination of sound as well as images. It was simply magical for me to watch it; I felt waves of memories and emotions welling up as the different movies came on the screen. I was surprised and impressed at the emotional response the piece elicited--- how a five second clip of a particular movie has the power to entrance and stir up the memories and feelings I associate with the film.
I then began thinking about how art gets tossed around. The man who made the piece used two different mediums, film and song, to created a symphony of sound and images that is entirely original. It is fascinating to me how a piece of art gets recycled, reused, or manipulated, to produce an entirely new work. Art feeds into itself, and artists feed off each other to develop this splendid world of connection and inspiration. Things get borrowed and stolen, but I think it is acceptable and productive when each time it spawns something new. This realization made me appreciate the intricate nature and complexities of art more; it also made me see that borrowing from another artist does not make one any less original, if the artist creates something fresh and new. After all, Shakespeare borrowed heavily from earlier works when writing his plays, and that fact does not make him any less of a great writer. I would love to go back someday and watch the splendid montage of some of my favorite movie moments played out for me in such an interesting way.

Novel 3: Dorian Gray and "the passion of the spectator"

In The Picture of Dorian Gray, Dorian's reaction to news of Sibyl Vane's death reveals both Dorian's callous nature and the fact that he views his life as a spectator. In chapter VIII, Lord Henry asks Dorian about his meeting with Sibyl, saying, "did you make a scene with her?" (94). Clearly, Dorian and Lord Henry see life as play, something unreal to which they are not directly attached. Also, after Dorian discovers Sibyl's suicide, he tells Lord Henry, "how extraordinarily dramatic life is! If I had read all this in a book, Harry, I think I would have wept over it" (96). This insinuates that Dorian will not cry over Sibyl's death because he did not read it in a book; that Dorian would cry over something distanced from himself but not something in his own life reveals that art impacts Dorian more than his own life. Indeed, Dorian thinks that Sibyl's death is "simply like a wonderful ending to a wonderful play" (98). Even in the face of tragedy, Dorian still sees life in aesthetic terms and is only concerned with the beautiful; it seems as though Dorian must think of life this way in order for life to seem real.

Dorian's reaction also brings up many interesting questions about art and life. The fact that art feels more real than life to Dorian puzzles me. Why does Dorian prefer feeling like a spectator as opposed to a real participant in life? Throughout the novel, he behaves as though he is unattached to the happenings around him with no real emotional investments in them. Perhaps Dorian has been taught to hold aesthetic values over everything else by Lord Henry and can only appreciate happenings in those terms. Also, perhaps being unattached in this manner allows Dorian to carry on with his base pursuits without conscience or implication. Whatever reason, the effect is chilling as Dorian watches tragic events as they unfold with all of the passion and safety of an uninvolved observer.

Street 3: Why I Now Hate Bees

"I would punch every bee in the face! Bees are not taking me out." -Dane Cook

I never expected that coming to England would give me a newfound fear. However, because of the visit to Stowe garden last week, I am positive that I have been traumatized by my interactions with bees. The little pests kept crawling on my hair, my sunglasses, my face, and even my lips over and over again. These bees were brazen, aggressive, and by the third time of feeling a stupid bee's legs on my lips, I wanted to get on the bus and leave the English countryside forever.
And now, the psychological trauma has followed me to Oxford. Every time I see a flying thing, whether it is a bee, fly, butterfly, or piece of fuzz, I jump and emit and embarrassing yelp, a reaction I simply cannot control. When a bee flew into my room today and I ran away
into the hall, I had to ask myself: Did I ever expect to go to England and return with a bee phobia?
Of course not. It is strange---when we travel, many unexpected things occur, some delightful and some horrifying. As a tourist, we spend countless hours packing and planning for all different situations, events, weather, emergencies to avoid being caught off guard when these surprises happen. Indeed, packing is sort of like trying to predict the future, and the more we pack, the more secure we feel. Our luggage and our plans give us a snug sense of protection from the unknown. Therefore, we carry the perfect amount of cash, bandaids, the right kind of clothes, shoes, and extra this or that, just in case. After all, we have heard countless horror stories of lost passports, muggings, being stranded, etc. However, when something strange and quirky occurs while abroad, what do we do with the experiences? Do they make us feel like failures for not predicting them? Of course, bees, spiders, and bedbugs were the last thing on my mind when coming to Oxford. If I did think of that, I would be worried about myself. Trips and life are the same in that one cannot predict the future in either instance. Personally, I have come to the conclusion that horror stories of the road are part of the beauty of travel. Just like life, the unknown can be scary or exciting, and in the end, either one makes a good story. This is what really matters, although I fear that moments of flailing, yelping, and grimacing at random times throughout the day will continue until I leave Oxford.

Street Entry #2: Maps and Sightseeing

I have visited London three times now, and the city still is not any less intimidating than it first was. The layout of the streets is arbitrary and confusing, and the direction of the traffic confuses me even more. This last Tuesday, I set out with a group of people, my map in tow, and we tried to make sense of the little numbers on the page and the enormous buildings all around us. My eyes switched from map to building, and then from map to street sign over and over again, looking for what we were supposed to be looking at. Oh look, we found the Savoy, take a picture, so let's turn here and wait, is this right? Should we wait for the next block and then turn left? This is how the majority of the conversation sounded during the Wilde walk.
It was extremely hard to reconcile time spent reading a map and appreciating what we saw. It took much effort and collaboration within the group to find our bearings, navigate through the people, streets, and traffic. However, we finally stumbled upon a generic building where J.M. Barrie happened to live. The little numbers definitely proved worth seeing in the end. However, I know I missed many interesting buildings along the way and looked like a major buffoon stopping at every intersection to bury my face in my map. On the other hand, if I had no map and simply walked around the city, I would have seen everything, but walked past the window of the room where J. M. Barrie lived, never knowing this interesting piece of history. On the next London excursion, I will either figure out how to reconcile the map and sightseeing or follow around someone else willing to do so.