Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Objectification and Violence as a Chosen Identity?

I am just beginning an entire semester on Joyce Carol Oates, so expect that many of the entries appearing here over the next few months will relate to her work. I begin with two of her short stories from the 1960s, which I found a touch hot - you'll understand why after reading the following:
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Simply looking at Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice is enough to indicate young women have struggled to find independence and unique identities for well over 200 years. While there is a much longer history of women engaging in various rites of passage, that looks far enough back to indicate the ideas Joyce Carol Oates writes about are not new. In "How I Contemplated the World from the Detroit House of Correction and Began My Life Over Again" and "Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?" Oates explores the journey of two young girls seemingly trying to move away from the identities forced upon them. These girls run from the concept of parental control and seek freedom, yet they run into a dangerous foreign world where they are forced into other roles. Searching for an identity through the eyes of others leads both girls into the arms of trouble and toward the edge of death and destruction, but it is an edge they feel compelled to move ever closer to.

In "How I Contemplated the World...", the main character's lack of unique identity is underscored by her being referred to simply as "the girl". The girl is physically ordinary and stands out only in the sense that she does not obey the rules. In addition to being somewhat of a kleptomaniac, the girl leaves home at a very early age and rather than finding independence finds someone else to claim her. Simon, a drug addled older man, finds the girl on the streets and takes her in. She begins sleeping with him, injecting him with drugs, caring for him, and keeping his secrets. Despite a fear that Simon may come into her room and strangle her and despite such objectification that Simon gave her away to a friend for three days, the girl clearly says that she would go back to him and their crazy life "over and over again" (181).

This dangerous excitement finds the girl quite by surprise as Simon initially grabs her and is hurting her, but it is right after that she first goes to bed with him. There is something intoxicating to her about having such power wielded over her and about the fact that "it wasn't love... it was terror" (186). Repeatedly, the narrative shows someone putting the hand on the girl's arm which is referred to as "a claim" (186). From this, we see that even as she believes she is finding freedom in her relationship with Simon, she is still a creature possessed. These things the girl was happy to continue with, but when she is assaulted by two other girls, it nearly breaks her. She says even Simon's treatment never hurt her, but those other girls did, and she vows to stay forever in the protection of her family rather than risk being hurt again by other girls.

"Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?" is the story of Connie's search for independence. She is expected to behave in a certain way (like her older sister) and follow certain rules, but when she is out from under supervising eyes, that all changes. Sneaking out to drive in movies and engaging in sexual behavior leads Connie to have an unexpected visitor. One day after her family has gone out for the day, Arnold Friend arrives at Connie's door. "His whole face was a mask" and his words were "spoken with a slight rhythmic lilt" like a skilled hypnotist (48-49). Despite resisting at first and declaring that Arnold is crazy, the more forceful he becomes with her, the more she seems to give in to his demands.

Connie tries to rebel and reaches to call the police at which point she feels an intense pain that registers as "something Arnold Friend was stabbing her with again and again with no tenderness" (52). As she is recovering from this pain, Arnold sweetly says and repeats "that's a good girl" and things begin to shift inside Connie (52). Connie begins to realize that everything is about to change for her and though she seems afraid, she is actually detached. She begins to see even her own body as something that "wasn't really hers either" (53). Giving in to his harsh treatment and trance inducing speech, Connie ultimately watches herself walk out the door and to Arnold's car as if she were watching someone in a movie.

Though both girls wanted to escape the demands placed on their identity by their parents, they abandoned these demands for the demands of yet another authority. It seems that Oates is implying through this shift that either young women are not capable of full independence or they simply have an internal desire to be controlled and objectified by these older male figures. Both girls seem to respond most favorably to the harshest treatment from the men and in doing so, they find one form of freedom. It is this type of freedom that one girl stops resisting and the other would seek “over and over again” (181).

Early February Wall of Shame

Since there was very little posting for school during January, I took the month off, but I'm going to start February's Wall of Shame a little early. Hold on tight!

I've certainly seen worse, but this still made my head hurt:
"Why did John feel as though this child would completely ruin and barricade his life to misery? Why not stick it out and try to still reach his goals instead of having to pick ether his girl friend or his future? The same in the first story, why did the young man have to leave home to never come back."

I'm left more than a little confused, though I think I agreed with her general premise:
"M. Butterfly shows that gender roles provide people with an identity, that's it!. What we consider to be man and woman exists only in our minds, so that we may identify ourselves. The "woman" Song is referring to in the play is not actually a woman but the male perception of one which only assets their own gender and masculinity. We clearly see in this play, man and woman are just names for mere assertion."