“We go on. Suddenly they’re waving dead white chickens. None of us have ever encountered anyone waving a dead white chicken. None of us knows what it means. Are they offering us something to eat? Are they making an obscure reference to something about Americans, the United States, our invasion? Is it a gesture of resistance or of mockery? What the hell is going on?”(95). Kayla Williams had a more difficult job than she understood. She was trained as a linguistic specialist and sent to Iraq, ostensibly to listen to broadcasts and pass along anything relevant and translate when the Army needed to talk to the locals. Cognitive dissonance is present when two cognitions (pieces of knowledge, such as ‘apples are fruit’ or ‘my favorite color is blue’ or ‘the Declaration of Independence was signed in 1776’) are in conflict. Translation is an example of cognitive dissonance – one has to think in two languages at once. But how do you translate dead white chickens? Williams described the incident in terms of cognitive dissonance; these smiling people waved dead white chickens to show support, to mock the troops, to show evidence of chemical warfare, to invite them for dinner…believing all of that at once prompted half of the convoy to laugh hysterically. Although Williams recognized this example of cognitive dissonance, her biography is full of examples whose proximate cause is the very structure and protocol of the Untied States Military.
My favorite example concerns the deployment orders. Williams was assigned to the 101st Airborne Division, stationed at Fort Campbell, waiting for orders to deploy to Iraq. As Williams recounted:” “Quit lying to us! A duffel bag with all our extra gear has already gone to the Middle East. We’ve been told to pack personal hygiene equipment for six months! We went to Wal-Mart and spent three hundred dollars on binoculars, batteries, cameras, books, and a solar shower! Extra fucking everything! And you’re trying to tell us we’re not going anywhere?” “Roger that. There is no deployment order for the division.” Then the deployment order for the division was announced on CNN” (62). When my ex-husband was in the Army, he was supply personnel stationed at Fort Bragg, one of the rapid-deployment stations. I knew he was on his way to Haiti for Operation: Restore Hope seven hours before he did (officially). So, in direct opposition to the lesson in critical thinking Williams and her fellow soldiers received in college, they are told to disbelieve the evidence of their own senses and experience in favor of what those with higher rank tell them.
According to the cognition of Chain of Command, those of higher rank are supposed to protect and defend those under their command with their superior self-discipline (read – never show emotion), training and experience. This cognition pairs with the cognition that one must always respect rank. Williams encountered dissonance when she served under a series of ranking officers who were incompetent, insensitive and too sensitive, and did not care about the soldiers they were theoretically supposed to protect. The military had a built-in way of insulting those of higher rank – “retreat into my shell of protocol” (91). Williams, a woman who has shown herself to be a caring and sensitive individual, resolved her cognitive dissonance in this regard by accepting the cognition that ranking officers should have the described traits in order to protect ‘their soldiers’ and rejecting the idea that all officers deserve their rank. When she retreated to protocol with SSG Moss and Moss cried, Williams’ account reveals the change in attitude forced by the necessary resolution: “The Bitch. She’s crying in front of a subordinate, and I have even less respect for her now, if that’s possible. You never cry in front of a subordinate” (91). In other instances, Williams had a friend, Zoe, whose commanding officer fled to safety before ordering his soldiers to safety, an act which resulted in a letter of reprimand for the officer (245). SSG Moss continued to be incompetent in ways that could get Williams and her team killed. A later ranking officer accused Williams of being angry with her because she did not care about learning about the technical aspects and equipment of the job, most of which relied on those aspects and equipment (267). This was acceptable to the military, which had stationed this officer in Iraq when she did not even know where Iraq was located on a world map.
When she wasn’t dealing with officers whose ignorance was potentially lethal to her and her team, Williams experienced cognitive dissonance in her role as translator. She accompanied soldiers on hunts for weapons and had to simultaneously reassure the terrified locals and the twitchy soldiers that everything was okay. She told the locals that the scary soldiers with rifles pointed at them were, in fact, here to protect them but must also hunt for hidden weapons. She told the soldiers that the locals were peaceful people and the shouting and stepping close were part of Arabic culture. When traveling, people were potentially allies and enemies at once. Common trash could be a cover for explosive devices. Prisoners might be harmless natives or terrorists – the Geneva Conventions need not apply.
At least Williams could count on her fellow soldiers for support and mutual respect, right? “Bros before hos” is the rule, indicating loyalty to the team ahead of loyalty to outsiders. The problem is that it only works if the team one relies upon ignores your gender. Williams spent time with other units in her capacity as translator. They showed her the same respect they showed their own team because she demonstrated skills that helped them to do their job, she did not complain, and she treated them as though they were all boys together. Oddly, this changed when she wore mascara to a concert. Suddenly, the others realized she was female. They started to refer to her breasts and stopped using her name. These same people she was so comfortable with started to make rape jokes. She felt vulnerable for the first time because the cognition that female equals slut, bitch, or ho shattered the cognitions that she was a friend and had worth as a Specialist. The worst part for me when reading this text was when Williams recounted the incident wherein a fellow soldier attempts to molest her. “The next morning I’m writing in my journal about the incident with Rivers when he appears. “Listen, Kayla,” he says, all sheepish. Looking anywhere but at me. “I apologize. I was completely out of line back there. I hope there are no hard feelings. It was dumb, and it was wrong. So I hope you can, you know, accept my apology on this.” And just like that, he’s gone again. This throws me even more. I have all this righteous anger built up. And – wham! An apology? It feels like cheating. Like: This guy steps way over the line, and now he gets to be able to have it all just go away. Because now he’s sorry? (208). Williams unofficially reported the incident and Rivers was reassigned, but he told others that she begged him to let her suck his cock and when he refused (on the grounds that he was engaged), she was terribly disappointed.
She kept her distance from everyone after that. How can you argue with that position? It is one of the biggest, clearest examples of cognitive dissonance. A soldier stationed in a war zone does not turn down an offer of any kind of sex with a willing female – period. A guy who turns down sex due to a girlfriend back home is probably gay or impotent, according to military culture. A female who wanted to have sex of any kind does not have to rely on one person to give her sex – she has hundreds to choose from. So, how does this rumor of rejection gain general acceptance? How does someone who is free and easy with the sex elude a ‘bad reputation’ while someone who behaves becomes the pariah?
By the time Kayla Williams returned home, she had built up so much cognitive dissonance, she could not relate to anyone who did not share her subject position (military stationed in Iraq). Civilian life no longer made sense. Other veterans did not share her specific experience, so she was sure they had suffered worse. At the close of her narrative, she shared housing with two other soldiers who had been stationed in Iraq. She wrote her story to gain perspective. I hope it worked.
Work Cited
2005. Williams, Kayla. Love My Rifle More than You. Norton.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Shylock, In His Own Words
William Shakespeare wrote a play with a Jewish moneylender as its nominal villain. It is unknown as to whether Shakespeare had any access to Jewish people, Jewish history, or the laws as pertained to Jewish people. This moneylender, Shylock, has only three hundred sixty lines in The Merchant of Venice. He only appears in five of the play’s twenty scenes. Yet, Shylock remains one of Shakespeare’s most compelling characters. He falls short of the satiric comic villain and also fails to win complete sympathy. He is the quintessential outsider, an easy target for bullies; his attitude of contempt makes it unlikely that other Venetian citizens would stand up for him. Shylock would rather see Antonio dead at his hand than gain three times the money he was owed, which further alienates him from the other characters. Pain motivates his need for revenge. Shylock openly hates Christians in general, and Antonio in particular; he feels far more sinned against than sinning. In his own words, Shylock shares the pain and grief and fear that fuel his hatred toward Antonio. Antonio’s anti-Semitism and hypocrisy is balanced by Shylock’s honest forthright contempt; Shylock’s alien status allows him to see the contradictions between Christian values and practices.
Modern scholars must speculate as to what Shakespeare knew about Jews, what sources he drew upon to create the usurer who dared demand a pound of flesh as payment on a debt. The expulsion of Jews from England occurred three hundred years before Shakespeare’s time. Christopher Marlowe, his main rival, wrote The Jew of Malta, the story of an evil Jew who actively plots against his Christian neighbors. Marlowe and Shakespeare may have witnessed (or at least heard about) the trial and execution of Lopez, a Jewish physician accused of poisoning Queen Elizabeth. According to eyewitness accounts, the crowd treated the execution of Lopez as a comedy, laughing at his last words. Gratiano, a character who serves as comedy relief in The Merchant of Venice, delivers a cruel punchline to the judge’s verdict: “In christening shalt thou have two godfathers:/ Had I been judge, thou shouldst have had ten more,/ To bring him to the gallows, not the font “(4.1. ll.414-416). Was the character of Gratiano based on Shakespeare’s (firsthand or secondhand) impression of the crowd at the gallows, many of whom were groundlings at the Globe Theatre? The animosity shown by Gratiano does not seem to surprise any of the characters, including Shylock.
This is understandable, as there seems to be no character in The Merchant of Venice who does not harbor prejudice. The belief that others were inferior due to circumstances of their birth was widely accepted regardless of creed or class.
Modern scholars must speculate as to what Shakespeare knew about Jews, what sources he drew upon to create the usurer who dared demand a pound of flesh as payment on a debt. The expulsion of Jews from England occurred three hundred years before Shakespeare’s time. Christopher Marlowe, his main rival, wrote The Jew of Malta, the story of an evil Jew who actively plots against his Christian neighbors. Marlowe and Shakespeare may have witnessed (or at least heard about) the trial and execution of Lopez, a Jewish physician accused of poisoning Queen Elizabeth. According to eyewitness accounts, the crowd treated the execution of Lopez as a comedy, laughing at his last words. Gratiano, a character who serves as comedy relief in The Merchant of Venice, delivers a cruel punchline to the judge’s verdict: “In christening shalt thou have two godfathers:/ Had I been judge, thou shouldst have had ten more,/ To bring him to the gallows, not the font “(4.1. ll.414-416). Was the character of Gratiano based on Shakespeare’s (firsthand or secondhand) impression of the crowd at the gallows, many of whom were groundlings at the Globe Theatre? The animosity shown by Gratiano does not seem to surprise any of the characters, including Shylock.
This is understandable, as there seems to be no character in The Merchant of Venice who does not harbor prejudice. The belief that others were inferior due to circumstances of their birth was widely accepted regardless of creed or class.
- Shylock is a professional moneylender.
- Shylock is an active parent.
- Shylock has strong ties to the Jewish community.
- Shylock is beaten, insulted and spat upon on a regular basis by Antonio and people who follow him.
- Shylock loses his business to Antonio.
- Shylock loses his daughter to Lorenzo, a Christian and known companion of Antonio.
- Shylock loses his personal savings because Christians incite his daughter to steal from him as she leaves.
- Shylock has one opportunity to have his revenge without repercussions.
- His need for revenge cost him half of his material possessions, his livelihood, and his ties to the Jewish community.
Friday, January 7, 2011
“So Musical a Discord” – Anachronisms in Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream
A Midsummer Night’s Dream must contain the most culturally and chronologically diverse characters in fiction. “The musical discord holds together four different modes of representation: Theseus and Hippolyta, from classical legend; the four young lovers, from every place and every time; Bottom and his fellow English rustics; the fairies, who in themselves are madly eclectic. Titania is Ovid’s alternate name for Diana, while Oberon comes out of Celtic romance, and Puck or Robin Goodfellow is English folklore” (Bloom 166). These characters are unaware of one another at the opening of the play, but soon become involved in the plots of others. Shakespeare could not possibly write a play interweaving such diverse characters and not have anachronisms throughout the work. What makes Dream one of the greatest plays ever written is Shakespeare’s ability to make these anachronisms seem unimportant. How did he manage this theatrical feat? What inspired him to write Dream, one of the three plays out of thirty-nine (the other two are The Tempest and Love’s Labor Lost) in which Shakespeare does not use a primary source?
According to Bullfinch’s Age of Fable, Theseus quietly wed Hippolyta and left her after the birth of their son Hippolytus. Theseus later had a public wedding in Athens, to Phaedra. Hippolyta and her Amazons crashed the wedding to kill the entire wedding party, but Hippolyta was killed in that battle. That might help explain why Hippolyta’s lines can be read to imply hostility or eagerness: “Four days will quickly steep themselves in night;/Four nights will quickly dream away the time”(1.1:7-9). To further complicate matters, Titania is a synonym for Diana, the Roman name for Artemis, goddess of the Moon, the Hunt, and patron goddess of the Amazons. As Queen of the Amazons, Hippolyta would have also been her High Priestess. If Titania had grounds for jealousy, it would mean that the Amazon Queen had dared to touch the consort of her patron goddess. Any affair Titania had with Theseus would have had to happen before Oberon was born, as he is the offspring of Julius Caesar and Morgan le Fay. Would they care, these theatergoers, that most of the histories of the characters contradicted each other?
Part of his success is no doubt due to the obscurity of some of the details. Theseus tells Hermia “”if you yield not to your father’s choice,/You can endure the livery of a nun,/For aye to be in shady cloister mewed”(1.1:71-73).Who would know that cloisters were unheard of in an Athens that predated Roman rule and Christianity? Shakespeare concentrated on universal constants to hold the loyalty of his audience. Theatergoers knew (or could imagine) the pain of unrequited love, as well as the thrill of forbidden love. They could also relate to the fear and confusion felt by the rude mechanicals, even as they laughed at Bottom’s predicament. Shakespeare also took care to craft short, fast-paced scenes, shifting from one pair or set of character to another pair of set before the audience would have time to notice any contradictions.
Shakespeare spent a lifetime honing his craft by watching audiences and giving them what they craved. Scholars must speculate as to his motives and interior landscape; he did not leave behind written records of his thoughts. The timing of certain events and successive plays can certainly invite speculation as to the origin and inspiration of William Shakespeare’s works. In the first chapter of the Pulitzer Prize finalist text Will in the World, Shakespearean scholar Stephen Greenblatt notes the similarities between elements a series of performances commissioned by Leicester for Queen Elizabeth and elements in Dream. The obvious connection is the description of a platform Leicester built for Queen Elizabeth to view the leap of a mechanical dolphin, later referenced in Dream: “Thou rememb’rest/Since once I sat upon a promontory,/And heard a mermaid on a dolphin’s back”(2.1:148-150). Shakespeare watched the queen watching the performances, a mixture of classical poetry and rustic folktales, with slapstick comedies and dancing. It was a mass confusion, not allowing complete concentration on any one part; at one point, several acts physically collided. Everyone was surprised when Elizabeth requested a repeat performance. The second performance was smoother, well received by the audience, which included representatives from most walks of life. Shakespeare learned that a successful performance must include something for everyone.
Philip Henslowe, a theatrical agent/owner and contemporary of Shakespeare, kept meticulous records of theatrical performances. In his diary, he notes the performance of a play, Huon of Burdocize, on December 28, 1593. This play was based on the story of Huon of Bordeaux, recounted in the Legends of Charlemagne collected by Thomas Bullfinch. Huon, a knight who inadvertently killed the eldest son of Charlemange, meets the Faerie King Oberon while riding through the woods on a quest. Oberon, the first fairy godfather, takes an interest in Huon, gives him gifts and valuable advice. (In this tale, Oberon is portrayed as the son of Julius Caesar and Morgan le Fay.) Oberon even brings Huon to Avalon and abdicates in his favor, declaring him ruler over the ‘faerie folk’. Faeries rarely give birth, so the issue of succession is often settled by adoption. King Arthur objects, as he believes that if any human should rule Avalon, it should be Arthur; Huon offers to be co-ruler, thus restoring the peace. Oberon retracts his threats to turn Arthur into a werewolf and allows the co-rulership to stand. Shakespeare wrote A Midsummer Night’s Dream within three years of the opening of Huon.
Shakespeare knew classical gods and heroes held a timeless appeal. In his day, classical and medieval morality plays were often recycled. He understood the power of folk tales, something he would have seen at least four times per year in Stratford, never diminished by repetition. Puck, a figure straight out of English folklore, would be an alluring character to English audiences. He understood the widespread appeal of physical comedy. The rude mechanicals and their play-within-a-play would hold the attention of the groundlings. He knew that there must be at least one character who speaks for the audience, in plain language; Bottom serves that purpose in Dream. He may well have learned from the performance of Huon that an audience would ignore or forgive anachronistic flaws if the story was sufficiently entertaining. Shakespeare succeeded in crafting a plot so compelling that it not only made the flaws irrelevant, it inspired poets and writers for more than four hundred years.
Works Consulted
Bloom, Harold. Shakespeare – The Invention of the Human. Berkley Publishing Group, New York, 1998.
Bullfinch, Thomas. Age of Fable. World Publishing Company, 1965.
Bullfinch, Thomas. Age of Chivalry and Legends of Charlemagne. World Publishing Company, 1965.
Greenblatt, Stephen, et. al. The Norton Shakespeare Based on the Oxford Edition. New York: Norton, 1997.
Greenblatt, Stephen. Will in the World. W.W. Norton and Company, New York, 2004.
According to Bullfinch’s Age of Fable, Theseus quietly wed Hippolyta and left her after the birth of their son Hippolytus. Theseus later had a public wedding in Athens, to Phaedra. Hippolyta and her Amazons crashed the wedding to kill the entire wedding party, but Hippolyta was killed in that battle. That might help explain why Hippolyta’s lines can be read to imply hostility or eagerness: “Four days will quickly steep themselves in night;/Four nights will quickly dream away the time”(1.1:7-9). To further complicate matters, Titania is a synonym for Diana, the Roman name for Artemis, goddess of the Moon, the Hunt, and patron goddess of the Amazons. As Queen of the Amazons, Hippolyta would have also been her High Priestess. If Titania had grounds for jealousy, it would mean that the Amazon Queen had dared to touch the consort of her patron goddess. Any affair Titania had with Theseus would have had to happen before Oberon was born, as he is the offspring of Julius Caesar and Morgan le Fay. Would they care, these theatergoers, that most of the histories of the characters contradicted each other?
Part of his success is no doubt due to the obscurity of some of the details. Theseus tells Hermia “”if you yield not to your father’s choice,/You can endure the livery of a nun,/For aye to be in shady cloister mewed”(1.1:71-73).Who would know that cloisters were unheard of in an Athens that predated Roman rule and Christianity? Shakespeare concentrated on universal constants to hold the loyalty of his audience. Theatergoers knew (or could imagine) the pain of unrequited love, as well as the thrill of forbidden love. They could also relate to the fear and confusion felt by the rude mechanicals, even as they laughed at Bottom’s predicament. Shakespeare also took care to craft short, fast-paced scenes, shifting from one pair or set of character to another pair of set before the audience would have time to notice any contradictions.
Shakespeare spent a lifetime honing his craft by watching audiences and giving them what they craved. Scholars must speculate as to his motives and interior landscape; he did not leave behind written records of his thoughts. The timing of certain events and successive plays can certainly invite speculation as to the origin and inspiration of William Shakespeare’s works. In the first chapter of the Pulitzer Prize finalist text Will in the World, Shakespearean scholar Stephen Greenblatt notes the similarities between elements a series of performances commissioned by Leicester for Queen Elizabeth and elements in Dream. The obvious connection is the description of a platform Leicester built for Queen Elizabeth to view the leap of a mechanical dolphin, later referenced in Dream: “Thou rememb’rest/Since once I sat upon a promontory,/And heard a mermaid on a dolphin’s back”(2.1:148-150). Shakespeare watched the queen watching the performances, a mixture of classical poetry and rustic folktales, with slapstick comedies and dancing. It was a mass confusion, not allowing complete concentration on any one part; at one point, several acts physically collided. Everyone was surprised when Elizabeth requested a repeat performance. The second performance was smoother, well received by the audience, which included representatives from most walks of life. Shakespeare learned that a successful performance must include something for everyone.
Philip Henslowe, a theatrical agent/owner and contemporary of Shakespeare, kept meticulous records of theatrical performances. In his diary, he notes the performance of a play, Huon of Burdocize, on December 28, 1593. This play was based on the story of Huon of Bordeaux, recounted in the Legends of Charlemagne collected by Thomas Bullfinch. Huon, a knight who inadvertently killed the eldest son of Charlemange, meets the Faerie King Oberon while riding through the woods on a quest. Oberon, the first fairy godfather, takes an interest in Huon, gives him gifts and valuable advice. (In this tale, Oberon is portrayed as the son of Julius Caesar and Morgan le Fay.) Oberon even brings Huon to Avalon and abdicates in his favor, declaring him ruler over the ‘faerie folk’. Faeries rarely give birth, so the issue of succession is often settled by adoption. King Arthur objects, as he believes that if any human should rule Avalon, it should be Arthur; Huon offers to be co-ruler, thus restoring the peace. Oberon retracts his threats to turn Arthur into a werewolf and allows the co-rulership to stand. Shakespeare wrote A Midsummer Night’s Dream within three years of the opening of Huon.
Shakespeare knew classical gods and heroes held a timeless appeal. In his day, classical and medieval morality plays were often recycled. He understood the power of folk tales, something he would have seen at least four times per year in Stratford, never diminished by repetition. Puck, a figure straight out of English folklore, would be an alluring character to English audiences. He understood the widespread appeal of physical comedy. The rude mechanicals and their play-within-a-play would hold the attention of the groundlings. He knew that there must be at least one character who speaks for the audience, in plain language; Bottom serves that purpose in Dream. He may well have learned from the performance of Huon that an audience would ignore or forgive anachronistic flaws if the story was sufficiently entertaining. Shakespeare succeeded in crafting a plot so compelling that it not only made the flaws irrelevant, it inspired poets and writers for more than four hundred years.
Works Consulted
Bloom, Harold. Shakespeare – The Invention of the Human. Berkley Publishing Group, New York, 1998.
Bullfinch, Thomas. Age of Fable. World Publishing Company, 1965.
Bullfinch, Thomas. Age of Chivalry and Legends of Charlemagne. World Publishing Company, 1965.
Greenblatt, Stephen, et. al. The Norton Shakespeare Based on the Oxford Edition. New York: Norton, 1997.
Greenblatt, Stephen. Will in the World. W.W. Norton and Company, New York, 2004.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Reverse-Engineering Religion – Ideas Raised in Yentl’s Revenge
Yentl’s Revenge, a collection of essays edited by Danya Ruttenberg, centers around the theme she expresses in the introduction: “Today’s Yentl can, as many Orthodox feminists have begun to do, learn Talmud to extract the sexism from legitimate Jewish law. Or, she can lead workshops on S/M and Judaism. Or she can do both. She can see infinite ways to address women who want to talk honestly about the place of Judaism in real life – who grapple with body image, queer identity and the media’s pervasive role in our culture. Who want to give religion a breath of fresh air – whether through meditation, eco-kosher living or punk rock. Who crave innovation – but innovation that’s genuinely Jewish” (XX). Third wave feminists have grown up with rights as a given, which enables them to see possibilities for active change. Some of the essay topics concern queer identity and the limitation of labels (Dina Hornreich), the confusion and difficulty of being identified as a non-white Jew (Ophira Edut, Loolwa Khazzoom, and Dalia Sofer), and laying claim to exclusively-male ritual (Emily Wages, Karen (Chai) Levy, Jennifer Bleyer, and Haviva Ner-David).
The essays cover these women’s exploration of what it means (to them) to be Jewish. Some attempted to seek traditional roots, only to find that Orthodox and Conservative Judaism make no room for women to actively participate. Some sought an example in Zionism, only to find oppression of women and Palestinians. Some created their own versions of Judaic ritual, with mixed results. Not one of the essayists waited for change to occur – each acted as her own change agent.
Although Judaism (like any other major religion) was designed and is run as a patriarchal social construct, nevertheless modern feminists can reverse-engineer this construct in order to build a better spiritual vehicle without sacrificing their need to connect to a higher power. Religion is a set of beliefs about life – which created it, how to live it, and what comes after it. Out of this set of beliefs comes dogma – core principles that govern the interpretation of the set of beliefs. Out of dogma comes canon – religious law, undisputed by the faithful. Looked at in this way, religion is a machine, composed of wheels within wheels, whose engine drives the faithful alone the road of life. What if the machine that carries you is uncomfortable? What if you feel as though you are strapped to the hood with bungee cord, an obvious afterthought to the engineers who designed this cruiser? Sure, the core set of beliefs seem to have ‘always’ been there – they show up in every major religion in the world; but the dogma and canon law vary according to principle and setting. But, who made the machine surrounding the core?
Judaism is a religion shaped and controlled by patriarchy. The writings and interpretations of the underlying belief system and its applications have, until recently, been the exclusive domain of male authorities. Women have been excluded from the study and practice of most of the significant rituals involved in Jewish religious life. Until recently, the only choices women had were to passively accept the patriarchal design and shape of Judaism or leave the synagogue (which also meant being separated form family, friends, and community). That is no longer the case. Wikipedia, the online encyclopedia, has this interesting entry: “Reverse engineering (RE) is the process of discovering the technological principles of a mechanical application through analysis of its structure, function and operation. It often involves taking something (e.g., a mechanical device, an electrical component, a software program) apart and analyzing its workings in detail, usually with the intention to construct a new device or program that does the same thing without actually copying anything from the original. A telling analogy of RE is that the research of physical laws can be seen as reverse-engineering the world itself.” Now, third wave Jewish feminists can take apart this ‘machine’ and rebuild it in a comfortable fit, without losing any of its functionality.
Several essayists have chosen to wear religiously significant clothing, traditionally reserved for males, in the practice of their ritual prayers. This is one example of reverse-engineering as applied to Judaism. The women examined the rituals requiring a tefillin and broke them down to their component parts, asking what purpose the practice and restriction served, then reclaiming the ritual for their own use. This may mean openly touching the Torah, which means banishment form the synagogue in some cases, or performing the ritual in the privacy of one’s own home. Women today can pick and choose the elements of Judaism that suit their spiritual needs and redesign the daily practice of their faith.
This is in no way easy. Modern third wave Jewish feminists are struggling with defining their identity in terms of faith and cultural ethnicity. What does it mean to be a secular Jew? How does one reconcile the horrors of the Holocaust with the horrors of incest? How does one choose between reclaiming a much-needed safe haven and respecting the people who were living there until your people shoved them out? How does one respect the Law of Moses when it calls you unclean? How can you pray in a temple whose rules demand that you are neither seen nor heard?
Question everything. Take nothing for granted. Yiskah (Jessica) Rosenfeld’s essay examines the way we view Lilith and Eve; her exercise in reverse-engineering reveals a deeper meaning to be found and applied to the story of Adam’s spouses. Women can look at Eve and see a lonely nurturer, excluded from the intimate father/son relationship, whose conversation with the serpent (Lilith in disguise?) leads her to attain growth and knowledge, which her love inspires her to share with Adam. It is a different view from the original (Eve was not submissive, so she was punished) and the feminist version (Eve was spineless and easily led), though constructed from the same materials.
“Once, while in college, I took a friend who had never heard of the joyous, raucous holiday of Simchat Torah to services at the seminary. As soon as we arrived, he was handed a Torah scroll and welcomed enthusiastically into a crowd of euphoric, dancing, singing men. As usual, I had to stand in the back, watching with the women. After an hour, I could no longer control my rage and I simply threw myself into the crowd of men and started dancing, too. A rabbinical student angrily grabbed me and demanded, “Who gave you permission to dance?” Calmly, I replied, “God.” He threw me out” writes Susannah Heschel in the Foreword. Why couldn’t the women dance? Possibly one or more of the men may have made a vow to God to allow no woman but his wife to touch him. If so, why didn’t the man or men in question sit out dances? Why not have dancing circles for women, if one must segregate the sexes? The women were deprived of joy, detached from this holy celebration.
“For many American Jewish women under thirty, the question is not “Is it acceptable for me to wear a kippah or read Torah as a woman?” but instead “Is it possible to be a thinking individual and an observant Jew at the same time?” or “Can I have a personally meaningful spiritual life and simultaneously take part in Jewish tradition?” (161) writes Emily Wages. If one does nothing to alter the components and/or meaning of Jewish tradition, then the answer to the last two questions must be “No”. Thinking individuals inevitably question tradition. I am a recently-converted Catholic and the first thing I did when I heard about the Vatican requesting all Catholics boycott Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code was go out and buy two copies – NO ONE gets to tell me what I can or can’t read. I gave one copy to my RCIA sponsor. Does this mean I am not a good Catholic? Maybe, if your definition of a good Catholic requires unquestioning obedience. I don’t think feminists today are capable of unquestioning obedience – and I am glad.
Judaism, like any other major religion, is not the exclusive property of men. A love it or leave it attitude should not apply. If you want to keep your belief system without the baggage of patriarchy, reverse-engineer it; take it apart and rebuild it without the misogyny. As with any other machine, right is running- if it’s running its right. Although Judaism is run as a patriarchal social construct, feminists can reverse-engineer this construct in order to build a better spiritual vehicle.
2001. Ruttenberg, Danya (ed.). Yentl’s Revenge. Seal Press.
The essays cover these women’s exploration of what it means (to them) to be Jewish. Some attempted to seek traditional roots, only to find that Orthodox and Conservative Judaism make no room for women to actively participate. Some sought an example in Zionism, only to find oppression of women and Palestinians. Some created their own versions of Judaic ritual, with mixed results. Not one of the essayists waited for change to occur – each acted as her own change agent.
Although Judaism (like any other major religion) was designed and is run as a patriarchal social construct, nevertheless modern feminists can reverse-engineer this construct in order to build a better spiritual vehicle without sacrificing their need to connect to a higher power. Religion is a set of beliefs about life – which created it, how to live it, and what comes after it. Out of this set of beliefs comes dogma – core principles that govern the interpretation of the set of beliefs. Out of dogma comes canon – religious law, undisputed by the faithful. Looked at in this way, religion is a machine, composed of wheels within wheels, whose engine drives the faithful alone the road of life. What if the machine that carries you is uncomfortable? What if you feel as though you are strapped to the hood with bungee cord, an obvious afterthought to the engineers who designed this cruiser? Sure, the core set of beliefs seem to have ‘always’ been there – they show up in every major religion in the world; but the dogma and canon law vary according to principle and setting. But, who made the machine surrounding the core?
Judaism is a religion shaped and controlled by patriarchy. The writings and interpretations of the underlying belief system and its applications have, until recently, been the exclusive domain of male authorities. Women have been excluded from the study and practice of most of the significant rituals involved in Jewish religious life. Until recently, the only choices women had were to passively accept the patriarchal design and shape of Judaism or leave the synagogue (which also meant being separated form family, friends, and community). That is no longer the case. Wikipedia, the online encyclopedia, has this interesting entry: “Reverse engineering (RE) is the process of discovering the technological principles of a mechanical application through analysis of its structure, function and operation. It often involves taking something (e.g., a mechanical device, an electrical component, a software program) apart and analyzing its workings in detail, usually with the intention to construct a new device or program that does the same thing without actually copying anything from the original. A telling analogy of RE is that the research of physical laws can be seen as reverse-engineering the world itself.” Now, third wave Jewish feminists can take apart this ‘machine’ and rebuild it in a comfortable fit, without losing any of its functionality.
Several essayists have chosen to wear religiously significant clothing, traditionally reserved for males, in the practice of their ritual prayers. This is one example of reverse-engineering as applied to Judaism. The women examined the rituals requiring a tefillin and broke them down to their component parts, asking what purpose the practice and restriction served, then reclaiming the ritual for their own use. This may mean openly touching the Torah, which means banishment form the synagogue in some cases, or performing the ritual in the privacy of one’s own home. Women today can pick and choose the elements of Judaism that suit their spiritual needs and redesign the daily practice of their faith.
This is in no way easy. Modern third wave Jewish feminists are struggling with defining their identity in terms of faith and cultural ethnicity. What does it mean to be a secular Jew? How does one reconcile the horrors of the Holocaust with the horrors of incest? How does one choose between reclaiming a much-needed safe haven and respecting the people who were living there until your people shoved them out? How does one respect the Law of Moses when it calls you unclean? How can you pray in a temple whose rules demand that you are neither seen nor heard?
Question everything. Take nothing for granted. Yiskah (Jessica) Rosenfeld’s essay examines the way we view Lilith and Eve; her exercise in reverse-engineering reveals a deeper meaning to be found and applied to the story of Adam’s spouses. Women can look at Eve and see a lonely nurturer, excluded from the intimate father/son relationship, whose conversation with the serpent (Lilith in disguise?) leads her to attain growth and knowledge, which her love inspires her to share with Adam. It is a different view from the original (Eve was not submissive, so she was punished) and the feminist version (Eve was spineless and easily led), though constructed from the same materials.
“Once, while in college, I took a friend who had never heard of the joyous, raucous holiday of Simchat Torah to services at the seminary. As soon as we arrived, he was handed a Torah scroll and welcomed enthusiastically into a crowd of euphoric, dancing, singing men. As usual, I had to stand in the back, watching with the women. After an hour, I could no longer control my rage and I simply threw myself into the crowd of men and started dancing, too. A rabbinical student angrily grabbed me and demanded, “Who gave you permission to dance?” Calmly, I replied, “God.” He threw me out” writes Susannah Heschel in the Foreword. Why couldn’t the women dance? Possibly one or more of the men may have made a vow to God to allow no woman but his wife to touch him. If so, why didn’t the man or men in question sit out dances? Why not have dancing circles for women, if one must segregate the sexes? The women were deprived of joy, detached from this holy celebration.
“For many American Jewish women under thirty, the question is not “Is it acceptable for me to wear a kippah or read Torah as a woman?” but instead “Is it possible to be a thinking individual and an observant Jew at the same time?” or “Can I have a personally meaningful spiritual life and simultaneously take part in Jewish tradition?” (161) writes Emily Wages. If one does nothing to alter the components and/or meaning of Jewish tradition, then the answer to the last two questions must be “No”. Thinking individuals inevitably question tradition. I am a recently-converted Catholic and the first thing I did when I heard about the Vatican requesting all Catholics boycott Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code was go out and buy two copies – NO ONE gets to tell me what I can or can’t read. I gave one copy to my RCIA sponsor. Does this mean I am not a good Catholic? Maybe, if your definition of a good Catholic requires unquestioning obedience. I don’t think feminists today are capable of unquestioning obedience – and I am glad.
Judaism, like any other major religion, is not the exclusive property of men. A love it or leave it attitude should not apply. If you want to keep your belief system without the baggage of patriarchy, reverse-engineer it; take it apart and rebuild it without the misogyny. As with any other machine, right is running- if it’s running its right. Although Judaism is run as a patriarchal social construct, feminists can reverse-engineer this construct in order to build a better spiritual vehicle.
Work Cited
2001. Ruttenberg, Danya (ed.). Yentl’s Revenge. Seal Press.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Father Figures: A Comparative Analysis of John Milton’s “Elegia Quarta” and “Ad Patrem”
John Milton was a prolific writer, who composed poetry and prose for a variety of reasons. My own purpose was to analyze, compare, and contrast two of Milton’s works, with an emphasis on structure and syntax. In order to meet my need, I had to choose works that were similar in length and theme. With this is mind, I searched for poems of address. I chose “Elegia Quarta” and “Ad Patrem” primarily because they were both addressed to men who were mentors to Milton, men for whom Milton felt filial devotion. The verses were composed in Latin and sent to their recipients, both of whom were familiar with the dead language. The English translation closely matched the form of the original Latin text. I analyzed the context of each separate text. Then, I compared and contrasted the elements of the poems and their overall effects.
Milton’s “Elegia Quarta” was probably written in 1627, the poet was eighteen years old. He addressed this as a letter to his former tutor, a Scottish schoolmaster and clergyman named Thomas Young, who at the time served as a Chaplain to English merchants in Hamburg, Germany. Young was part of a group of religious reformists who composed tracts under the pseudonym of Smectymnuus. Milton later supported his mentor with two pamphlets of his own. Elegies are commonly used as laments or tributes to the deceased, but Thomas Young did not die until 1665. Milton revealed in the text that Young resided in Hamburg with his wife and at least two children. He also referred to battles rumored to be fought close to Young. During the Thirty Years War, Hamburg was heavily fortified and largely unaffected by armed conflict.
“Elegia Quarta” begins with an apostrophe in which Milton tells the letter itself where to go to reach his former tutor. He next writes of his great affection for Young and laments that three years is too long to go without seeing his soul mate. He apologizes to Young for not writing sooner. He expresses concern that battles are fought close to Young as well as anger that Young could not find a position in Britain, a situation he blames on his mother country. Milton encourages Young to believe that God will protect until he comes back to Britain, wherein he will have the bright future he so richly deserves.
“Ad Patrem” is a mystery in some respects. No one is sure exactly when the poem was written, although the most popular educated guess is around 1637, five years after Milton left Cambridge. Upon leaving Cambridge, Milton resided with his father and pursued an intense program of independent study, mainly concentrating on the classical and historical texts. Milton Senior, musician, poet, and trustee of Blackfriar’s Theatre (famed winter quarters of the King’s Men, the troupe in which William Shakespeare was both playwright and performer), supported his son in his scholarly endeavors, despite an understandable parental concern regarding the path chosen by his son. Milton Senior had been unable to support his family on the proceeds form his poetry and music, so his worry was based on painful personal experience.
Milton (Junior) opens “Ad Patrem” with an invocation to his Muse, wishing that the following poem would be a work worthy of his father. He expresses gratitude for all his father has done for him and offers this poem, as the only wealth he possesses. He explains why he chose poetry as a life’s pursuit, referencing the classical belief that poets were as celebrated as heroes. Milton reminds his father of the grand poetic tradition and begs him to remember that he inherited both his talent for and his love of poetry from Milton Senior. He again thanks his father for his gifts, tangible and intangible, reminds him that there are more important things than money, and ends with the hope that this poem will last long enough for future generations to know what a wonderful father Milton had.
Comparing the forms in the selected poems requires somewhat of a detour. These poems were originally written in Latin. Reading the original verses convinced me that the works were lyric poems, as they have a recognizable rhyme scheme. Milton did not seem too concerned that his words were exact rhymes; it was enough if they were similar, as he was more concerned with the content. The English translation is a near match in rhythm, but reads as blank verse. A verse in “Ad Patrem” scans:
“Nectu vatis opus divinum despice carmen,
Quo nihil aethereos ortus, & semina caeli,
Nil magis humanam commendat origine mentem,
Sancta Prometheae retinens vestigial flammae.”
The English translation, however, scans: “Nothing so dignifies the human mind as its origin, and it possesses yet some traces of Promethean fire.” While the English version retains the style and dramatic philosophical tone, it lacks the lyric flow of the original Latin. In contrast to the musica lyrica of “Ad Patrem”, “Elegia Quarta” is closer to a blank verse chant. Milton writes:
“Charior ille mihi quam tu doctissimi Graium
Cliniadi, pronepos qui Telamonis erat.
Quamque Stagirites generoso magnus alumno,
Quem peperit Libyco Chaonis alma Jovi.”
The English verse scans: “Dearer is he to me than were you, Socrates, wisest of the Greeks, to Cliniades of the stock of Telamon; dearer even than the great Stagirite to his noble pupil, whom a Chaonian mother bore to Libyan Jove.” In translating these works from Latin to English, it was necessary that form be sacrificed for the sake of content.
Milton has a distinctive voice, as evidenced even in his early works. The reader can identify a work of Milton by the long, intricate sentence structure, the nearly seamless blend of Judeo-Christian and classical mythological references, and the selective obedience to the tradition rules governing the structure of specific poetic forms. Milton’s work is a compelling blend of reverence for tradition and scorn for arbitrary rules. For instance, a sonnet is supposed to state a problem, then resolve it, or show two sides of an issue, according to its rhyme scheme. Milton’s sonnets follow the rhyme scheme, but not the content criteria. He wrote elegies as lyric poems addressed to healthy people and included reprimands to authority figures in emotional laments. Milton showed a confidence in his technique at the age of eighteen that most people don’t feel until they reach the age of thirty or older.
While Milton’s underlying voice remains the same in all of his various forms of poetry and prose, his tone changes frequently, even within a single line of a poem. Both “Elegia Quarta” and “Ad Patrem” have overtones of love and gratitude toward the mentors in his life. In “Ad Patrem”, he writes: “I pass in silence over the common kindness of a loving parent; greater matters call me.” These matters concerned the education his father both paid for and encouraged him to expand upon. In “Elegia Quarta”, Milton praises Thomas Young as “my guide when I was first threading the Aonian shades, and the sacred greenswards of the cloven hill; he first led me to drink of the Pierian water, and favored by Clio I thrice wet my lips with Castalian wine.” Essentially, the tone of both works emphasize the value Milton placed on his classical education, especially as it pertained to his study of poetics, as well as his admiration for the two men who influenced the direction of his studies.
The purpose of the verse has the strongest influence on the poem’s tone. In “Elegia Quarta”, Milton expresses admiration, love, loneliness, worry, and reassurance. Its entire construction is emotional, from the apostrophe that comprises the first fifty lines of the poem to the reminder of hope at the very end. Milton, in lengthy sentences filled with emotional angst, compares his relationship with Thomas Young to that of three classical mentor/student pairings, claiming that he loves his teacher as much as these legends did. His phrases throughout the poem (“I am forced to live half my life without him…my eyes were permitted to feast on his face, or my ears to drink in the sweet music of his voice…fix your shy glances…a faithful hand…I thus confess and crave your favor…now love will suffer him no longer to delay”) are filled with emotional resonance. His emotion-evoking word choices (“shy glances…modest lips…faithful hand…trembling prey…cowering victim…ravaging armies…blare of the blazing trumpet…you dwell alone and helpless…resounds the horrors of war…wan fear sends a shudder through your weary bones…radiant aegis of God…high-souled courage”) and repetition of the word ‘dearer’ support my hypothesis that this verse is essentially a plea.
“Ad Patrem”, on the other hand, is clearly a persuasive argument. Milton attempts to put his father’s fears to rest and explain why he is meant to be a famous poet. Milton starts his poem with an invocation, thus inviting his father to read the verses as a scholar. It is a clever way to influence the reader to set aside his emotions and pay attention to the argument. This verse is framed as a tribute to his father, but the content is a list of reasons why Milton Junior made the right decision. He starts of with gratitude and flattery in the first stanza. The opening lines of the next six stanzas (“Scorn not the poet’s song, a work divine…Poems were wont to grace the banquets of kings…Do not, I pray, persist in contemning the sacred Muses; think them not vain and poor, by whose gift you yourself are skilled…Although you pretend to hate the gentle Muses, I believe you do not hate them, for you did not bid me go, father, where the broad way lies open…I pass in silence over the common kindness of a loving parent; greater matters call me…Go now, gather wealth, fool, whoever you are”) read as rebuttals of a debate. The final two short stanzas are more conciliatory, implying (or simply hoping) that Milton Junior won the debate.
Milton used two different rhetorical strategies in “Elegia Quarta” and “Ad Patrem”. Was each strategy equally effective? The answer, for the most part, is subjective. Examining the strategies required several close readings, and I cannot be sure that I have recognized all of the nuances in the texts. Still, rhetoric requires a relationship between the one who composed the text and the one who reads it, so I feel I must include my response to the messages conveyed by Milton’s words. I have a bias regarding Milton’s frequent classical references, as I was raised to believe that showing off one’s education was rude. When Milton mentions the Pierian fountains, I wince as though I saw someone spit in public. Bias aside, I was enthralled by the modulation and rhythm of both verses (although I preferred “Ad Patrem”). I found “Elegia Quarta” to contain many beautiful phrases and little real substance, but I admit to having no emotional stake in Thomas Young’s well-being. “Ad Patrem” was my favorite of the two poems, although my sympathies are with Milton Senior, who had learned the hard way that one cannot eat a sonnet.
Milton had a way with words, in Latin and English alike. In comparing two of his poems, “Elegia Quarta” and “Ad Patrem”, I noted that Milton has a confident and distinctive voice. He wrote the two texts as lyric poems, but they are just as powerful when rendered as blank verse. Milton follows poetic traditions, but breaks arbitrary rules in his work, as evidenced in the fact that the verses in “Elegia Quarta” do not rhyme. His use of lengthy sentences and diction suited to evoking emotional responses worked to convey the poet’s worried plea that his former tutor return home safe. The use of the Muses as a metaphor for poetry as a career in “Ad Patrem” was also well-done, especially as it also serves the purpose of deflecting any residual emotional negativity toward the fictional beings (as opposed to the free-loading offspring). Overall, I learned a lot about how Milton constructed his rhetoric during this comparative analysis.
Milton’s “Elegia Quarta” was probably written in 1627, the poet was eighteen years old. He addressed this as a letter to his former tutor, a Scottish schoolmaster and clergyman named Thomas Young, who at the time served as a Chaplain to English merchants in Hamburg, Germany. Young was part of a group of religious reformists who composed tracts under the pseudonym of Smectymnuus. Milton later supported his mentor with two pamphlets of his own. Elegies are commonly used as laments or tributes to the deceased, but Thomas Young did not die until 1665. Milton revealed in the text that Young resided in Hamburg with his wife and at least two children. He also referred to battles rumored to be fought close to Young. During the Thirty Years War, Hamburg was heavily fortified and largely unaffected by armed conflict.
“Elegia Quarta” begins with an apostrophe in which Milton tells the letter itself where to go to reach his former tutor. He next writes of his great affection for Young and laments that three years is too long to go without seeing his soul mate. He apologizes to Young for not writing sooner. He expresses concern that battles are fought close to Young as well as anger that Young could not find a position in Britain, a situation he blames on his mother country. Milton encourages Young to believe that God will protect until he comes back to Britain, wherein he will have the bright future he so richly deserves.
“Ad Patrem” is a mystery in some respects. No one is sure exactly when the poem was written, although the most popular educated guess is around 1637, five years after Milton left Cambridge. Upon leaving Cambridge, Milton resided with his father and pursued an intense program of independent study, mainly concentrating on the classical and historical texts. Milton Senior, musician, poet, and trustee of Blackfriar’s Theatre (famed winter quarters of the King’s Men, the troupe in which William Shakespeare was both playwright and performer), supported his son in his scholarly endeavors, despite an understandable parental concern regarding the path chosen by his son. Milton Senior had been unable to support his family on the proceeds form his poetry and music, so his worry was based on painful personal experience.
Milton (Junior) opens “Ad Patrem” with an invocation to his Muse, wishing that the following poem would be a work worthy of his father. He expresses gratitude for all his father has done for him and offers this poem, as the only wealth he possesses. He explains why he chose poetry as a life’s pursuit, referencing the classical belief that poets were as celebrated as heroes. Milton reminds his father of the grand poetic tradition and begs him to remember that he inherited both his talent for and his love of poetry from Milton Senior. He again thanks his father for his gifts, tangible and intangible, reminds him that there are more important things than money, and ends with the hope that this poem will last long enough for future generations to know what a wonderful father Milton had.
Comparing the forms in the selected poems requires somewhat of a detour. These poems were originally written in Latin. Reading the original verses convinced me that the works were lyric poems, as they have a recognizable rhyme scheme. Milton did not seem too concerned that his words were exact rhymes; it was enough if they were similar, as he was more concerned with the content. The English translation is a near match in rhythm, but reads as blank verse. A verse in “Ad Patrem” scans:
“Nectu vatis opus divinum despice carmen,
Quo nihil aethereos ortus, & semina caeli,
Nil magis humanam commendat origine mentem,
Sancta Prometheae retinens vestigial flammae.”
The English translation, however, scans: “Nothing so dignifies the human mind as its origin, and it possesses yet some traces of Promethean fire.” While the English version retains the style and dramatic philosophical tone, it lacks the lyric flow of the original Latin. In contrast to the musica lyrica of “Ad Patrem”, “Elegia Quarta” is closer to a blank verse chant. Milton writes:
“Charior ille mihi quam tu doctissimi Graium
Cliniadi, pronepos qui Telamonis erat.
Quamque Stagirites generoso magnus alumno,
Quem peperit Libyco Chaonis alma Jovi.”
The English verse scans: “Dearer is he to me than were you, Socrates, wisest of the Greeks, to Cliniades of the stock of Telamon; dearer even than the great Stagirite to his noble pupil, whom a Chaonian mother bore to Libyan Jove.” In translating these works from Latin to English, it was necessary that form be sacrificed for the sake of content.
Milton has a distinctive voice, as evidenced even in his early works. The reader can identify a work of Milton by the long, intricate sentence structure, the nearly seamless blend of Judeo-Christian and classical mythological references, and the selective obedience to the tradition rules governing the structure of specific poetic forms. Milton’s work is a compelling blend of reverence for tradition and scorn for arbitrary rules. For instance, a sonnet is supposed to state a problem, then resolve it, or show two sides of an issue, according to its rhyme scheme. Milton’s sonnets follow the rhyme scheme, but not the content criteria. He wrote elegies as lyric poems addressed to healthy people and included reprimands to authority figures in emotional laments. Milton showed a confidence in his technique at the age of eighteen that most people don’t feel until they reach the age of thirty or older.
While Milton’s underlying voice remains the same in all of his various forms of poetry and prose, his tone changes frequently, even within a single line of a poem. Both “Elegia Quarta” and “Ad Patrem” have overtones of love and gratitude toward the mentors in his life. In “Ad Patrem”, he writes: “I pass in silence over the common kindness of a loving parent; greater matters call me.” These matters concerned the education his father both paid for and encouraged him to expand upon. In “Elegia Quarta”, Milton praises Thomas Young as “my guide when I was first threading the Aonian shades, and the sacred greenswards of the cloven hill; he first led me to drink of the Pierian water, and favored by Clio I thrice wet my lips with Castalian wine.” Essentially, the tone of both works emphasize the value Milton placed on his classical education, especially as it pertained to his study of poetics, as well as his admiration for the two men who influenced the direction of his studies.
The purpose of the verse has the strongest influence on the poem’s tone. In “Elegia Quarta”, Milton expresses admiration, love, loneliness, worry, and reassurance. Its entire construction is emotional, from the apostrophe that comprises the first fifty lines of the poem to the reminder of hope at the very end. Milton, in lengthy sentences filled with emotional angst, compares his relationship with Thomas Young to that of three classical mentor/student pairings, claiming that he loves his teacher as much as these legends did. His phrases throughout the poem (“I am forced to live half my life without him…my eyes were permitted to feast on his face, or my ears to drink in the sweet music of his voice…fix your shy glances…a faithful hand…I thus confess and crave your favor…now love will suffer him no longer to delay”) are filled with emotional resonance. His emotion-evoking word choices (“shy glances…modest lips…faithful hand…trembling prey…cowering victim…ravaging armies…blare of the blazing trumpet…you dwell alone and helpless…resounds the horrors of war…wan fear sends a shudder through your weary bones…radiant aegis of God…high-souled courage”) and repetition of the word ‘dearer’ support my hypothesis that this verse is essentially a plea.
“Ad Patrem”, on the other hand, is clearly a persuasive argument. Milton attempts to put his father’s fears to rest and explain why he is meant to be a famous poet. Milton starts his poem with an invocation, thus inviting his father to read the verses as a scholar. It is a clever way to influence the reader to set aside his emotions and pay attention to the argument. This verse is framed as a tribute to his father, but the content is a list of reasons why Milton Junior made the right decision. He starts of with gratitude and flattery in the first stanza. The opening lines of the next six stanzas (“Scorn not the poet’s song, a work divine…Poems were wont to grace the banquets of kings…Do not, I pray, persist in contemning the sacred Muses; think them not vain and poor, by whose gift you yourself are skilled…Although you pretend to hate the gentle Muses, I believe you do not hate them, for you did not bid me go, father, where the broad way lies open…I pass in silence over the common kindness of a loving parent; greater matters call me…Go now, gather wealth, fool, whoever you are”) read as rebuttals of a debate. The final two short stanzas are more conciliatory, implying (or simply hoping) that Milton Junior won the debate.
Milton used two different rhetorical strategies in “Elegia Quarta” and “Ad Patrem”. Was each strategy equally effective? The answer, for the most part, is subjective. Examining the strategies required several close readings, and I cannot be sure that I have recognized all of the nuances in the texts. Still, rhetoric requires a relationship between the one who composed the text and the one who reads it, so I feel I must include my response to the messages conveyed by Milton’s words. I have a bias regarding Milton’s frequent classical references, as I was raised to believe that showing off one’s education was rude. When Milton mentions the Pierian fountains, I wince as though I saw someone spit in public. Bias aside, I was enthralled by the modulation and rhythm of both verses (although I preferred “Ad Patrem”). I found “Elegia Quarta” to contain many beautiful phrases and little real substance, but I admit to having no emotional stake in Thomas Young’s well-being. “Ad Patrem” was my favorite of the two poems, although my sympathies are with Milton Senior, who had learned the hard way that one cannot eat a sonnet.
Milton had a way with words, in Latin and English alike. In comparing two of his poems, “Elegia Quarta” and “Ad Patrem”, I noted that Milton has a confident and distinctive voice. He wrote the two texts as lyric poems, but they are just as powerful when rendered as blank verse. Milton follows poetic traditions, but breaks arbitrary rules in his work, as evidenced in the fact that the verses in “Elegia Quarta” do not rhyme. His use of lengthy sentences and diction suited to evoking emotional responses worked to convey the poet’s worried plea that his former tutor return home safe. The use of the Muses as a metaphor for poetry as a career in “Ad Patrem” was also well-done, especially as it also serves the purpose of deflecting any residual emotional negativity toward the fictional beings (as opposed to the free-loading offspring). Overall, I learned a lot about how Milton constructed his rhetoric during this comparative analysis.
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