My Humble Abode

The illustrious ramblings of an idiosyncratic fellow (Man of Feeling, perhaps?), complete with nonsensical tintinabulations

Saturday, October 30, 2004

Robinson Crusoe: Tabula Rasa

The text of Robinson Crusoe proves popular quite likely for its ability to be reinterpreted. This does not mean simply in terms of modernization (though certainly, Crusoe has brushed up into modern life). Rather, it is within its universality that it holds popularity: everyone can see something of their own theory within the text.

The ancient Greeks had a belief that the pursuit of happiness was inseparable from the pursuit of virtue. Kantian belief held that people could not help but recognize their own self-worth in terms of reality, should they choose to be introspective. Both of these beliefs can be seen within the text of Robinson Crusoe. Crusoe becomes an emblem (or is supposed to be, at least) of morality in his pursuit of what is deemed as necessities for happiness. His fort that separates him from the savages allows him to only interact in a destructive way if necessary, where had he been unprepared-- as he himself reflects-- he would have been forced to attack the natives in such a way as to destroy both their peace and his own, with a high price of lives. In the Kantian philosophy, Crusoe reflections on Providence-- littered throughout the text-- pose as a potential voice for Kantian philosophy.

Indeed, the critics over the years have used Robinson Crusoe as a way to sharpen their literary-theory-claws. Like Winnie the Pooh, Robinson Crusoe has been portrayed as an emblem of many different literary theories and philosophies. Crusoe has been a voice for deconstruction, colonialism, determism, fatalism, and a host of other -isms within the literary (and philosophy, psychology... et alia) worlds. Virginia Woolf read Crusoe's reflections as destroying the meaning of the nature around him, and indeed destroying the meaning of Death itself.

The medium with which Defoe is writing lends itself a great universality. Within the realm of scientific revolutions, philosopher-scientists such as Popper , believe that the more falsifiable a theory, the better its generality. What better, then, than humanity put up on a pedestal, with the spotlight directed at its front? By placing Crusoe on the island by himself, Defoe allows an examination of what is the purest human instinct. Many critics have argued that his portrayal of a man trapped on an island is irrealistic, but nevertheless, it allows for discussion of humanity as a whole by placing it in solitude, with no interaction to influence its movements; it is the perfect case study of human nature in this regard, untainted by social theory and practice, untainted by corruption of outside power (although Crusoe himself is arguably a corruption of power himself). Defoe's purpose was not only to create an emblem of morality, thus allowing arguments that his text proves didactic, but he also allows Robinson to "do as you will, make it the whole of your law"-- the base philosophy of the poet Alesteir Crowley. By allowing him to do as he willed, Defoe allowed an examination of man filled with temptation and emptied of social punishment. Any punishment that Robinson Crusoe suffers is a direct product of the material (and thus unavoidable) world. However, unlike the reading Virginia Woolf gave to the text (of a decidedly deconstructionist vein), in this way Robinson recreates social conventions to point out the oft-forgotten fact that certain social conventions have a specific purpose. For instance, Crusoe gives natural purposes for clothes, shelter, guns (arguable whether this has real necessity), agriculture, patience, forgiveness, et alia.

In this way, Robinson proved the necessity for social conventions, and arguably (for within the text, the social "Other" is still made slave) for humanitarian egality-- egality in the respect that Friday is not treated as a savage but as a friend and not necessarily as a slave but as a friend in need.

Wednesday, October 13, 2004

The Passion of the Man of Feeling

After watching The Passion of the Christ for Thanksgiving holiday, one cannot help but be observant of the potential for Christian allegory. With this in mind, looking back unto The Man Of Feeling becomes quite interesting.

One thing noted in the portrayal of Judas in the movie is the concept of the wicked seeing evil and the good seeing purity. Similarly, in The Man of Feeling, we have this sort of humanity portrayed as potentially problematic. Harley is abused for his inability to blame anyone, though he is also potentially saved (especially when a prostitutes father bursts down the door). Though Harley is not crucified explicitly for his vulnerabilities, he is "too good for this world" (class notes). He cannot survive in this world, for his soul is too sensitive and is like an open wound.

It is also hinted throughout the novel that Harley is highly impractical. He plays cards as a social gathering and loses his money; he is led quite easily by the hand into situations that could potentially end in disaster (and sometimes do). When the prostitute asks for his help, he is eager to give it, and for this he is reprimanded by his friends.

However, if the tale is a Christian allegory, than there are potential problems. For instance, there is the potential for sin inherent in the following quotation:
He took her arm, and they walked on to one of those obsequious
taverns in the neighbourhood, where the dearness of the wine is a
discharge in full for the character of the house. From what
impulse he did this we do not mean to enquire; as it has ever
been against our nature to search for motives where bad ones are
to be found.
(33)

Here, his sexuality is questioned. The writer/editor presents the reader with not the possibility that improper motives lead Harley to the prostitute, but that it is the case that bad motives 'are to be found.'

Although Harley is here portrayed as potentially sexually-corrupt, whatever his intentions, his wish to help the prostitute when she proves faint overcomes his potentially animalistic impulses. He is forgiving of her obvious sins, and only wishes to offer her aid.

Similarly, his attitudes toward the misanthrope prove passive. Although Harley is seen as a lighthearted fellow, he does not chastise the misanthrope for the brutalities of character. Quite the contrary, he sees the brutalities as necessary for the world to operate, for
it is curious to observe how the nature of truth may be changed
by the garb it wears; softened to the admonition of friendship,
or soured into the severity of reproof: yet this severity may be
useful to some tempers; it somewhat resembles a file:
disagreeable in its operation, but hard metals may be the
brighter for it.
(29)
Throughout the tale, Harley becomes a potential for Christian allegory (forgiveness of sins, passivity, 'loving thy neighbour'), but he also can be related to Albert Camus' L'etranger. In Albert Camus' The Outsider, the hero of the novel becomes deeper and deeper in trouble because of one sad fact: he cannot tell a lie. It is unclear whether Harley can or cannot tell a lie, but he is most sincerely saved by his honesty and is both saved and destroyed by his faith in people. He cannot contemplate the possibility of wicked being inacted unto the good: it is unheard of for him. Thus as the novel reaches its pragmatic conclusion, it is inevitable that this naivité will be his doom.