“Araby” is a classic example of how James Joyce uses two literary techniques, paralysis and epiphany to give insight to his characters. In the case of “Araby,” the reader experiences the epiphany along with the character. “Eveline,” also written by Joyce, presents a similar paralysis and epiphany at the end of the story.
The story “Araby” is centered around an adolescent boy, who is smitten with a girl on his street. His affection for the girl is somewhat childish; he has never spoken to her and “yet her name was a summons to all his foolish blood.” His affection was paralyzing. He wished to speak to the girl, he wished to have a part of her heart, but he was too afraid to act on this. Instead he watched her through the blinds every morning and followed her to school.
Another instance where he is paralyzed is when she first speaks to him. He says, “When she addressed the first words to me I was so confused that I did not know what to answer.” When she asked him if he was going to Araby, he did not know whether he said yes or know. He was in a sort of trance, paralyzed with what he believed to be love. He continues to walk around in this trance in the days leading up to the event. He could not focus on his schoolwork as her image drifted between him and the page.
This state of trance leads up to the boy's epiphany at the end. He is at the bazaar, looking hopelessly for something to buy the girl. “Gazing up into the darkness, I saw myself as a creature driven and derided by vanity; and my eyes burned with anguish and anger.” In an instant, he sees the vanity of what he is doing. He has been driven by this vanity, like a powerful force, to go to the bazaar and purchase something for the girl of his dreams. But at this moment he sees that it is pointless. It is a transparent, meaningless gesture. It meant the world to him, but the trinket meant little to the girl. He saw this and was angry at himself, angry for being driven by such vanity, angry that he ignored the girl's indifference and mindlessly wandered around under her charm.
The paralysis, epiphany sequence in “Eveline” is much shorter and possibly less dramatic. Eveline planed to run away from her abusive father and elope with a sailor whom she has been forbidden to see. Just as they were about to board a ship for Buenos Ayres, she changed her mind and stayed behind. The state of paralysis came when she was in the station. All of the sudden she was gripped with a paralyzing fear. She wandered around passively, almost unsure of what she was afraid of, and prayed to God to tell her what to do. Her lover tried to take her hand; he beckoned her to come but she stood unmoved, rigid, grasping the railing. Her epiphany is revealed in the final sentence. “Her eyes gave him no sign of love or farewell or recognition.” This seems to indicate that not only does she have no love for him, but she never really even knew him.
Both stories give insight into the characters, but the epiphany in “Araby” is stronger. Eveline simply had a moment doubt and realizes that she does not know or love the man she is about to run away with. However, if you look at the entire story, she never really loved him. She was excited by the danger of the relationship and grew to “like” him. The boy in Araby, on the other hand, had a revelation about himself. He was charmed by a girl. He lived under her charm for a long time, religiously peering through her window and following her to school. But in one moment, he realized that his actions were nothing but vanity. He fancied that the girl loved him in return because she accepted his promise to bring her something, but he instantly realized the hopelessness of his desires and was bitterly angry at himself for following them.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Sunday, February 21, 2010
From Petrus
A scene from Petrus' point of view—pg. 118-120
This conversation is told from Petrus' point of view. He does not like David “drilling” him, but feels that David is ignorant to the ways of South Africa and will never be able to get Petrus to speak because of this. He shows a prejudiced attitude towards whites and their entitled ways. Petrus feels himself superior to David, because he thinks that despite Davids intelligence, he is blind to the ways of the South Africa and apartheid. This can be seen in Petrus' response to David's accusations of the boy. In the conversation between David and Petrus on pg 118-120, Petrus is very dismissive of David and says that the police will handle the situation. In his mind (and also in Lucy's), the crime done to Lucy was a consequence of apartheid. The men were somewhat justified in their ways because of everything that the whites did to Africans. For this reason, Petrus continually backs up the boy. At the party he tells David that the boy “says he does not know what you are talking about” (132). Petrus is also very dismissive of David because he thinks he will never get the justice he wants, which is likely true. Petrus knows the climate of South Africa. He knows that apartheid is over and that the punishment of these men will not be with the justified hatred that it would have been in an earlier time.
Petrus has emptied the concrete storage dam and is cleaning it of algae. As he glances up to wipe the sweat off his brow, he spots David walking towards him.
He sees that David has his feet crammed into Lucy's boots and scoffs, slightly humored by the idea that a man who has never done a day of work that required a pair of boots should be of any help to him. He was slightly annoyed that David had come to help him. 'Probably sent by Lucy,' he thinks. He can feel David's presence heavy in the air, bitter with pride, the pride of a white man. He is the worst of his kind. Petrus wishes to work in silence, but David speaks.
'Do you know, Petrus,' he says, 'I find it hard to believe the men who came here were strangers. I find it hard to believe they arrived out of nowhere, and did what they did, and disappeared afterwards like ghosts. And I find it hard to believe that the reason they picked on us was simply that we were the first white folk they met that day. What do you think? Am I wrong?'
Petrus feels a rush of heat running over his heart. He reaches in his pocket, calmly takes out his pipe and stares into the open country, hoping to avoid David's eyes. He chooses his words carefully, trying to show indifference, trying not to give an answer at all.
'The police must find them and put them in jail. That is the job of the police.' He hopes this will end the conversation, but David continues.
'But the police are not going to find them without help. Those men knew about the forestry station. I am convinced they knew about Lucy. How could they have known if they were complete strangers to the district?'
Petrus was not sure what to say. He did not want to say anything. Instead he continued to work, hoping that this would silence David. But David continued.
'It was not simply theft Petrus,' he persists. 'They did not come just to steal. They did not come just to do this to me. They came to do something else as well. You know what I mean, or if you don't know you can surely guess. After they did what they did, you cannot expect Lucy calmly to go on with her life as before. I am Lucy's father. I want those men to be caught and brought before the law and punished. Am I wrong. Am I wrong to want justice?'
Petrus wishes with every bone in his body that David would shut his mouth. David knows not the things he speaks of, yet he babbles on stupidly. The way of a white man—they think the more they speak, the wiser they sound. Davids words will draw nothing from Petrus, who has that rare way of detaching his body from his heart. He is nothing but hard, callous, indifferent. There is nothing David can do to break Petrus. Petrus is older than David in a way, wiser, more experienced. What of the world does David know from his city life? What does he know of how the country operates? How the real world operates, the world that he and his fathers have worked to create? Petrus would not give David the response he sought. He did not want to satisfy him like this.
'No, you are not wrong.'
Petrus cannot help but feeling a twinge of pride as David claws at the ground stupidly.
He sees that David has his feet crammed into Lucy's boots and scoffs, slightly humored by the idea that a man who has never done a day of work that required a pair of boots should be of any help to him. He was slightly annoyed that David had come to help him. 'Probably sent by Lucy,' he thinks. He can feel David's presence heavy in the air, bitter with pride, the pride of a white man. He is the worst of his kind. Petrus wishes to work in silence, but David speaks.
'Do you know, Petrus,' he says, 'I find it hard to believe the men who came here were strangers. I find it hard to believe they arrived out of nowhere, and did what they did, and disappeared afterwards like ghosts. And I find it hard to believe that the reason they picked on us was simply that we were the first white folk they met that day. What do you think? Am I wrong?'
Petrus feels a rush of heat running over his heart. He reaches in his pocket, calmly takes out his pipe and stares into the open country, hoping to avoid David's eyes. He chooses his words carefully, trying to show indifference, trying not to give an answer at all.
'The police must find them and put them in jail. That is the job of the police.' He hopes this will end the conversation, but David continues.
'But the police are not going to find them without help. Those men knew about the forestry station. I am convinced they knew about Lucy. How could they have known if they were complete strangers to the district?'
Petrus was not sure what to say. He did not want to say anything. Instead he continued to work, hoping that this would silence David. But David continued.
'It was not simply theft Petrus,' he persists. 'They did not come just to steal. They did not come just to do this to me. They came to do something else as well. You know what I mean, or if you don't know you can surely guess. After they did what they did, you cannot expect Lucy calmly to go on with her life as before. I am Lucy's father. I want those men to be caught and brought before the law and punished. Am I wrong. Am I wrong to want justice?'
Petrus wishes with every bone in his body that David would shut his mouth. David knows not the things he speaks of, yet he babbles on stupidly. The way of a white man—they think the more they speak, the wiser they sound. Davids words will draw nothing from Petrus, who has that rare way of detaching his body from his heart. He is nothing but hard, callous, indifferent. There is nothing David can do to break Petrus. Petrus is older than David in a way, wiser, more experienced. What of the world does David know from his city life? What does he know of how the country operates? How the real world operates, the world that he and his fathers have worked to create? Petrus would not give David the response he sought. He did not want to satisfy him like this.
'No, you are not wrong.'
Petrus cannot help but feeling a twinge of pride as David claws at the ground stupidly.
This conversation is told from Petrus' point of view. He does not like David “drilling” him, but feels that David is ignorant to the ways of South Africa and will never be able to get Petrus to speak because of this. He shows a prejudiced attitude towards whites and their entitled ways. Petrus feels himself superior to David, because he thinks that despite Davids intelligence, he is blind to the ways of the South Africa and apartheid. This can be seen in Petrus' response to David's accusations of the boy. In the conversation between David and Petrus on pg 118-120, Petrus is very dismissive of David and says that the police will handle the situation. In his mind (and also in Lucy's), the crime done to Lucy was a consequence of apartheid. The men were somewhat justified in their ways because of everything that the whites did to Africans. For this reason, Petrus continually backs up the boy. At the party he tells David that the boy “says he does not know what you are talking about” (132). Petrus is also very dismissive of David because he thinks he will never get the justice he wants, which is likely true. Petrus knows the climate of South Africa. He knows that apartheid is over and that the punishment of these men will not be with the justified hatred that it would have been in an earlier time.
Petrus is obviously biased against white men because of apartheid, but he also seems to exude an attitude of superiority. On page 202, Petrus says "I will marry Lucy." He does not say this as if he is waiting for her reply. He acts with the same entitlement that David did, that he can get whatever he wants. He got his land from Lucy and now he will get her too, along with all of her own land. He feels that he deserves this and that he deserves three wives. He derives his sense of power from this. No one questions him. Despite the prejudice against blacks, Petrus has built up his "empire," and this gives him a constant source of pride and superiority.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
