#7

"This isn't fair! How can you tell who's sane and who's insane?" "Well, we have a very simple method."

"Whoever has that stamp on his hand is insane."

I first started writing this post arguing that William Wilson could be just as easily sane as insane. That the decision was a difficult one to make. However, as I attempted to list the reasons why he could be seen as insane, I became more and more persuaded that that was the case.

 I am now convinced that Poe's William Wilson is little more than the ramblings of a madman, with Wilson`s doppelganger little more than a figment of his imagination. And when he sees himself in the mirror at the end, pale and covered in blood, he is merely hallucinating. 

After all, he'd been hallucinating the whole time. His doppelganger is said not only to share the same name as him, but to be the same age and "born on the nineteenth of January" (216), to have "entered the school upon the same day" (216) and to even be "the same height, and... singularly alike in general contour of person and outline of feature."(217) All of this is a monumental coincidence. But even more amazing is the fact that the doppelganger takes on Wilson's own face when he is sleeping. From there, he follows William first around Britain and then the world, from Paris to Egypt, "[destroying his] honor", "[thwarting his] ambition", and his "bitter mischief" (224). It would take an unbelievably persistent person to trot around the globe with the only goal of tormenting someone. 

However, this person must exist in some capacity. After all, he is seen by Wilson's schoolmates, who "had the notion that [they] were brothers", as well as the members of the card game, who search his jacket upon advice from the doppelganger. So if this doppelganger is indeed a figment of Wilson's imagination, how was he seen by classmates and gamblers alike? Simple. The people who played roles did indeed exist, but what Wilson saw was only his own projection on to them. Wilson even says that "the imitation, apparently, was noticed by myself alone"(217). There may have been a boy at the school who greatly resembled William Wilson, perhaps even one who looked a little like him and shared the same talents, but the doppelganger who follows him from that first school is one of his own making. 

It is also telling that when Wilson encounters his doppelganger, the other's face is obscured somehow. During the card game, the candles are extinguished, and the room is shrouded in darkness. The party, "could only feel that he was standing in [their] midst." (222) During the masquerade, his face is "entirely covered" (225) in black silk. In both instances, he is only identified by his "ever remembered, low, damnable whisper" (224). Whatever scenario is actually taking place, William is experiencing it with added auditory hallucinations.

These hallucinations eventually become visual as well, as seen at the masquerade. During the party, no one actually lays a hand on, or whispers to, William. It is at this point that his insanity has become full-fledged. He drags his doppelganger into the next room before attacking and killing him. But alas, when William turns back to the body, he sees only a mirror, and his own bloody visage staring back at him. At this point, he is still hallucinating. He has not stabbed himself, or anyone else. He simply thinks he has.

Actually, that's not entirely true. Something did die during that encounter. William's conscience. For that was what the doppelganger stood for. He may have been entirely imagined in a physical sense, but he still existed in William's mind.  A conscience that attempted to intervene when William was up to no good. The sole guard against "serious disquietude to [his] friends and positive injury to [himself]."(213). By proving that he is capable of murder, he has forever silenced it and has damned himself to death. Not immediately, as the image in the mirror would suggest, but sooner or later, now that his conscience is not there to protect him.

Assignment 5- Hope and Magawisca

In Hope Leslie, Magawisca is shown to be a proud, compassionate and brave woman who is willing to risk her life for what she believes in. Her pride is displayed in her meeting with Hope in the graveyard. After Hope balks at the thought of Faith married to an Indian, Magawisca gives a look of "proud contempt, that showed she reciprocated with full measure the scorn expressed for her race." (p. 196) She then goes on to ridicule Hope, sarcastically suggesting that Faith's blood will be corrupted. However, she soon calms down and offers Hope her sympathy, showing that she is capable of compassion.  During her father's attack on Bethel, she begs him to spare the lives of Mrs. Fletcher and the children, telling her father that, "they have spread the wing of love over us - save them"(p.65). Despite having lived as a servant for the family, Magawisca is aware of the love that has been shown to them and begs for their safety, even commiserating with them at one point, shouting, "I bleed when they are struck"(p. 65). Magawisca also displays a great deal of bravery in attempting to help Everell escape captivity. First she wakes him in the middle of the night so that he might flee. However, when that fails and Everell is faced with execution, she "[interposes] her arm" (p. 97) between the axe and Everell, causing her arm to be severed. We see that she is willing to risk bodily harm and even death to save his life. Through all of this, she shows that she is willing to resist aspects of her culture and upbringing.

Hope Leslie also shows this trait throughout the novel. Despite being raised in a strict, Puritan society, she proves herself open minded and willing to buck societal norms, as well as being both morally courageous and fearless. When sitting down to a Saturday night service, Hope does not hide the fact that she thinks it is a tedious enterprise, stating of the minister, "he always talks of eternity till he forgets time." (p. 171). Shortly after the service ends, she attempts to leave quickly, but is criticized by her aunt for acting, "very undignified, and very unladylike, and very unbecoming...it is untoward and unforward..."(p.174). Despite this rebuke, Hope continues to stride ahead at her own pace. Hope's moral courage shines through brightest when she saves Nelema from what is likely certain death. Despite being a "bold, dangerous, and unlawful interposition"(p.124), Hope "took counsel only from her own heart...[which] told her that the rights of innocence were paramount to all other rights..."(p.124).  As for the danger that such an action posed to her, "she did not weigh it - she did not think of it."(p.124).

When these two women are compared to, say, Alice from The Last of the Mohicans, it becomes obvious how much more progressive and noble these characters are. While they are actively and consciously affect the events around them, Alice sits back in the role of Damsel in Distress and waits to be rescued.

Assignment #4 - In which I am baffled

The fourth rule that Twain accuses Cooper of breaking is as follows:

"They require that the personages in a tale, both dead and alive, shall exhibit a sufficient excuse for being there."

Sufficient excuse for being there. As in they have a plausible reason for doing what they're doing, or going where they're going. In The Last of the Mohicans, Cooper breaks this rule right off the bat. What is Cora and Alice's excuse for travelling with the army reenforcement? To join up with their father is what we're told, but what would possess them to join their father in a fort that they know is going to be under attack in the very near future? Just because it gets the plot moving?

Almost immediately after the two girls - one of whom, it should be noted, is just a terribly delicate flower - decide and are permitted to travel with the soldiers to a fort that will soon be under seige, they manage to make an even more baffling decision. Instead of travelling with the column of 1500 soldiers, a force that could be considered somewhat unassailable given the circumstances,  they decide to break off into a small group of four and travel by a "secret route", led by a man who was once an enemy of their father. And this is before they decide to include a singing madman into their company.

In Magua's case, his reasons for going along with the entire ordeal are easily explained as they only make his job easier. But from the point of view of Alice, Cora and Heyward? This all happens only because it has to. Because the two girls have to be separated from the group in order to meet Hawkeye and the Mohicans. And having something happen simply because it has to, while paying no heed to how it happens - and weather it is organic or not - violates Twain's rule #16 - "Avoid slovenliness of form".

"Who ever recked, where, how, or when, the prowling fox was trapped or slain?"

Chapter 23 deals with the capture of Uncas and the death of the Huron Chief's treacherous and shameful son. These events are both foreshadowed and contradicted by the epigraph, which comes from the poem The Lady of the Lake by Sir Walter Scott.

"Bold words!--but, though the beast of game
The privilege of chase may claim,

Though space and law the stag we lend
Ere hound we slip or bow we bend
Who ever recked, where, how, or when,
The prowling fox was trapped or slain?"

In the fourth canto, the wonderfully named James Fitz-James has been warned of an ambush as he sets off to avenge a death. Attempting to leave under cover of darkness, he comes across a mountaineer who has made camp in the highlands. After an initial confrontation between the two, they acknowledge each other as worthy warriors and the moutaineer shares his dinner with James. Unbeknownst to James, however, the mountaineer is actually the man who is waiting to ambush him.

The passage shows a disregard for the manner in which the fox is caught, suggesting that no matter how many hounds are loosed or arrows launched, no one really remembers how the fox was caught. This directly contrasts the way the Hurons react to the manner in which Uncas is caught. Because the Chief's son acted as a coward and fled, leading Uncas into a trap, his father disowns him before murdering him. It is revealed that this is the third time he as acted as a coward and has brought great shame to his family. Despite the fact that an enemy has been captured, the son's actions have completely overshadowed the positives.

On the other hand, the events that transpire immediately after the passage used for the epigraph closely reflect the events that transpire at the end of chapter 23. In The Lady of the Lake, James is shown respect - and even fed dinner - by his would be assassin, because he sees that James is also a great warrior. This is reflects on the manner in which the Chief treats Uncas. From the moment he is brought into the Huron camp as a prisoner, Ungas was subject to all manner of viscious insults and slander from the furious group of Hurons. Despite all the bile that was directed at him, Uncas never flinched and remained stoic though the whole ordeal. The Huron chief offers him a backhanded compliment, saying, "...though one of a nation of women, you have proved yourself a man." And once the true nature of his capture comes to light, Uncas' life is spared (if only for the time being), and it is the Chief's son whose life is taken.

Assignment #2

There comes a point roughly halfway through the novel, just after Huntly has awoken in the cave, where the concealed landscape exists only through the terror it inspires in Edgar. The sparse description that is given by Brown serves only to increase this sense of terror and dread, as Edgar (and by extension, the reader) has little idea of the landscape that surrounds him as well as the dangers that lurk within it.

Immediately after he wakes, Edgar begins searching for a way out, but finds that following the walls only leads him back to the start. 

"I continued to explore this clue, till the suspicion occurred that I was merely going round the walls of a vast and irregular apartment" (154)

The concealed landscape in this case instills terror into Edgar. All that is revealed to him is that the wall is made of stone. Beyond that, he has no idea of its location, dimensions, or where it truly leads, which causes him to be overpowered by fear. He begins to imagine that he has been imprisoned in a dungeon by some tyrant, or perhaps buried alive.  

Once he has overcome these irrational fears, he uses the echo of his voice and the feel of the walls (which Brown only describes as rugged) to come to the conclusion that he is indeed in the cave which he had previously explored. But this is still of little consolation to him. Beyond that, he still knows nothing. He is still shrouded in darkness and has little hope of finding food. 

It is this latter point that causes him the greatest fear. Edgar deems the walls of the pit inaccessible - a very brief description of their state, but that one word is enough. If the walls are inaccessible, he will not be able to escape and find food.

"Here I should continue till wasted by famine. In this grave, should I linger out a few days, in unspeakable agonies, and then perish forever." (156)

Here, the concealed landscape exists only in Edgar's feeling of hunger. It does not matter what his prison looks like, or what natural features surround it. All that is important is the fact that there is no hope of escape and as a result, no hope of finding sustenance.

Despite the apparent hopelessness of his situation, Edgar does indeed manage to pull himself out of the pit, though it is only so he can immediately face another danger.

"The darkness was no less intense than the pit below, and yet two objects were distinctly seen...These were the eyes of a panther." (158-59)

In the exchange that follows, in which Edgar kills the panther, the landscape is not described at all. There is no mention of where the panther is in relation to Edgar, if there is a height discrepancy between the two, or what - if any - obstacles stand between them. The landscape in this case exists only as a place for the panther to lurk, as a place for the hidden dangers to wait for Edgar.

Had a different author written this novel with an increased focus on description of the landscape and surrounding visuals, I feel some of the terror would have been lost. If Edgar (and again, by extension the reader) had had a better view of what existed around him, the situation would have felt a lot less hostile and desperate. Descriptions of the pit would have given hints as to an avenue of escape, descriptions of the cave and knowing if water or plant life existed would have taken away from Edgar's desperate sense of hunger, and knowing the exact location and distance of the panther and how long it would have taken to reach Edgar would have dissolved much of the tension.

On Terror and Horror - Assignment #1

To examine the differences between terror and horror, I'll be looking at two works by Stephen King; A short story entitled Graveyard Shift and an excerpt from his novel The Shining.

The differences between the two are already pretty well defined, terror being the feeling of dread and anxiety that precedes the horror, which is accompanied by feelings of disgust and revulsion.

In King's The Shining, the boy Danny Torrance heads out by himself to the playground of the Overlook Hotel. In the process of playing make-believe, he climbs down into the concrete rings - a tunnel like structure buried in the snow that kids can crawl through. While he's down there, the hole that he had climbed in through becomes plugged with snow.

Now by this point in the novel, Danny is already aware that the spirits of the Overlook are actively trying to harm him and as he is bathed in complete darkness, a creeping sense of terror washes over him.  He becomes certain that something is in there with him, slowly coming for him. Hearing the crackle of dead leaves from inside the rings, he snaps and frantically begins to claw at the snow in an attempt to dig himself out. But the snow seems to want to keep him trapped in there as well. As it falls down around his head, he hears the crackling getting closer and closer and just as he thinks the thing is about to reach out and grab his ankle...he breaks through the snow and tumbles out into daylight. He turns and stares at the opening for minutes, waiting, but nothing emerges.

Here we see King create a superb sense of terror and foreboding. Danny is trapped in what is essentially a  frozen coffin, claustrophobic and pitch black which is terrifying enough as it is. The addition of the unseen, creeping "thing" makes it even more so. In the darkness, Danny is forced to rely only on his sense of hearing   and as he begins to believe that there is something in there with him he is filled with a sense of panic and dread. This is terror. The almost paralytic sense of fear that comes before the reveal of the horror. The fact that the horror is never revealed in this case makes the situation even more terrifying. It is left solely to the reader's (and Danny's) imagination as to what that thing could have been.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, we have King's short story Graveyard Shift. In it, a pulp mill crew is tasked with cleaning out the basement and sub-basement of the mill. As they get deeper into the basement, they begin to encounter bigger and bigger rats. Eventually, the protagonist gets down to the lowest level and discovers thousands upon thousands of rats that have begun to mutate. At the end of the basement they discover a rat the "size of a Holstein calf", eyeless, gray and pulsating. The story ends as the rats attack, clawing and biting at the exposed fleshy bits of the workers down there.

This is a fantastic example of horror. There is not a great deal of terror built up along the journey to the sub basement. The rough, blue-collar workers make jokes and complain to each other about the job as they get closer and closer to the sub-basement. They are not expecting anything out of the ordinary down there, so there is no sense of anxiousness, dread or anticipation built up despite the larger than usual rats. It is only once they get to the sub-basement and see the truly enormous rats that they realize what they have stumbled into. And by that point, the horror has already been revealed, and in quite the fashion. King seemingly delights in providing the reader with lurid descriptions of the  repulsive and horrible beasts that dwell within, as well as the gruesome fate that awaits the workers.

By looking at these two examples, we can see how terror is built up by purposefully keeping the "monster" behind the curtain and keeping those involved guessing in the dark, while horror is pulling the curtain back on the monster and showing everybody it's true, disgusting form.