Tag Archives: class

The Lover – Where Does Duras Situate Herself in Her Relationship?

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“The Lover” left me in a state of perplexity long after I had finished reading the novel not because of its plot, but because of its power dynamics between Duras and her lover, the Chinese man. I find the title “The Lover” intriguing because it seems to me that Duras refuses to be identified as the lover of the man; instead, she reverses the narrative by establishing the Chinese man as her own lover, thus asserting possession and power in their relationship.

Initially, I was inclined to pass judgment on the older man as a despicable person because of his willingness to be in a sexual relationship with Duras, who then was just a young girl. However, as I progressed through the novel, I became increasingly confused as to whether Duras feels she has control over the man. For instance, she writes, “She tells him she doesn’t want him to talk, what she wants is for him to do as she usually does with the women he brings to his flat… And she, slow, patient, draws him to her and starts to undress him…” (38). This sentence makes me reflect on the power dynamics in their relationship. Duras lacks a tone of condemnation, nor does she resist the man. This corresponds to the part where she describes how outsiders would view her relationship with the man. Duras says, “Don’t tell me that hat’s innocent, or the lipstick, it all means something, it’s not innocent, it means something, it’s to attract attention, money…” (88). Contrary to conventional societal norms, it seems to me that Duras embraces her identity and behaviour in the sense that she deconstructs people’s conception of what should be deemed as “decent”. I find her alienation of people’s obscene judgement powerful because it only reinforces Duras’ centrality in her relationship with the man. Duras also writes, “I discover he hasn’t the strength to love me in opposition to his father, to possess me, take me away… his heroism is me, his cravenness is his father’s money” (49). Her contemptuous tone enables her to attribute cowardice to the grown man. By doing so, Duras displays authority by belittling her lover since bravery is usually one of the qualities that is associated with males.

Another element that I want to explore is Duras and her relationship with her mother. On multiple occasions, I find it sinister when she mentions how her family is depicted as dysfunctional. She writes, “She shouts, for the whole town to hear, that her daughter’s a prostitute, she’s going to throw her out, she wishes she’d die, no one will have anything to do with her…” (58). However, later on, her mother personally asks the head of the boarding school to let Duras return to the dormitories whenever Duras wishes. This is the part where I got confused. Her mother’s decision seems to give Duras a moral license to remain in her relationship with the man; it also makes me wonder if Duras’ mother is torn between financial pressure and moral boundaries, or if she knows that she cannot possibly “restrain” her daughter in a conventional sense.

My question for this week is: The ending of the novel illustrates the scene where the man phones Duras and expresses his love for her. How might the sense of irresolution enhance our analysis of Duras’ relationship with the man?

Black Shack Alley – Community, Resistance, and Empowerment

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Despite finding “Black Shack Alley” a bit slow-going at first, I appreciate how Zobel depicts the reality of Caribbean society following the abolition of slavery in implicit, but nevertheless, powerful ways. His emphasis on the sense of community throughout the novel goes hand in hand with the idea of resistance. Zobel illustrates his childhood memories, such as his daily interactions with his grandmother, as well as his neighbours. They all originate from the same community, which reminds me of how they hold a shared identity. I also notice how the presence of white people is scarcely mentioned in Chapter 1; Zobel unfolds his memories from the perspective of his community and neighbourhood. In particular, José’s relationship with Mr. Médouze adequately exemplifies the idea of collectiveness. Though Médouze is not kin to José, he takes up the role of a parental figure, being the first person to enlighten José in terms of his political consciousness. Médouze says, “But when the intoxication of freedom was spent, I was forced to remark that nothing had hanged for me nor my comrades in chains… I remained like all the blacks in this damned country: the bekés kept the land, all the land in the country, and we continued working for them…” (45). Zobel highlights the change and continuity of poverty and white supremacy following the abolition of slavery through the perspective of Médouze, constantly alluding to the idea the Caribbean people remained a tool for white settlers to maximize their economic interests, and that blackness inevitably entails oppression. Zobel rarely condemned colonialism in a militant way in the sense that he would explicitly incite his readers to resist, yet his narrative style makes me reflect on the continuity of injustice in Martinique.

I love how Zobel depicts the relationship between José and M’man Tine, José’s grandmother. José is raised by his strict yet loving grandmother; M’man Tine perceives the harshness of reality, especially with the fact that José and her are in a white supremacist society, and therefore seeks the best interests of her grandson. She frequently scolds and punishes him as if she intentionally finds faults in José, but her unconditional love for José is evident by her refusal to let him work. She says, “Well! If I didn’t put your mother in one (petités-bandes), I’m not going to out you!” (56) M’man Tine is determined to break the perpetual and generational cycle of impoverishment, deprivation of education, and bondage. With the frequent absence of José’s mother during his childhood, M’man Tine’s feminine role as a caregiver features a nurturing and motherly figure to José.

Another aspect that I want to explore is the simplicity of language used in the novel. I think language plays a significant role in delivering the theme of nationalism. Médouze and other neighbours always say “Eh cric” and “Eh crac” before telling stories. Zobel also brings a number of superstitions and cultural beliefs to light. He writes, “And when at night, you smell anything bad, don’t say a word, for your nose will rot like an old banana” (45). These cultural beliefs that he holds onto contrast with the assimilative education system that he is in in which the language of instruction in school is French. I interpret the contrast as a symbol of resistance that shows how Zobel is inclined to preserve his Martinican culture despite the environment that he is in. Again, Zobel retaliates against colonialism in an implicit yet empowering manner.

My question for this reading is: How does the imagery of the black shacks represent inequality and resistance?

Robert Arlt, “Mad Toy”

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Reading Arlt’s “Mad Toy” left me with a heavy heart. As I read through the chapters, I feel that Arlt’s narration of his life only gets more depressing. It seems to me that Arlt has never had a genuine connection with anyone before he met Rengo, yet he loses him in the end. From joining the band of thieves, and working at a bookstore, to his attempt to commit suicide, they all ended in failure; toward the end of these chapters, they all manifest loneliness in Arlt’s life. Just when I thought that Arlt finally had a connection with other people, as evidenced by Rengo’s disclosure of his plan to rob Vitri’s place, the chapter ends with Arlt’s betrayal of Rengo, which makes me feel more upset. He says, “…inside of me there is joy, a full, conscious kind of joy” (150). After everything that he had been through, I feel his calmness in the end makes the atmosphere even more sinister.

I like Arlt’s structure of his novel into four different parts, with the previous three ending with illicit behaviour, and the last one ending with a seemingly righteous act. I also interpret that Arlt centres his novel on the idea of justice, and its relationship to society. In the first chapter, Arlt says, “I don’t remember what subtleties and twisted reasoning we used to convince ourselves that robbery was a noble and beautiful act…” (29). He also mentions, “Don’t talk about money, Mama, please!” The financial pressure he is burdened with diminishes his happiness in his childhood. Coupled with his critique of the affluent young ladies who exploit the working class yet call them “riffraff” on p.40, arson, and the insults that he has to bear while working at the bookstore, they all instigate his deep-seated resentment of the highly classist society where people in the working class, like Arlt, have scarce social mobility. The oppression that Arlt feels channels to retaliation, hence his criminal behaviour as he seeks justice for himself. I see Arlt’s behaviour not only as a symbol of rebellion, but a desire to deconstruct the system that almost everyone he encounters seems to adhere to. The sarcasm in the end is that the righteous act, which is normally embraced by society, in his case entails a brutal betrayal, which makes me question the binary opposites of righteousness/betrayal, and whether they are in fact interconnected.

Another feature that I noticed was the dysfunctional relationships between people and their constant reference to life in the novel, which I found interesting. For instance, Maria shouted at Don Gaetano multiple times, “I was beautiful. What you done with my life” (68). This reminds me of Senora Naidath as she tells Arlt’s mother about her arguments with her husband and says, “What a life, Frau, what a life…” (87). Toward the end, Arlt says, “I know that life will always be extraordinarily beautiful for me…” (162). Though Arlt does not have a partner, all these people seem to detest their stages in their lives, and they all feel repressed in different ways, thus depriving their abilities to express their true identity. Despite being an adolescent, I think the case for Arlt is more complicated than the adults. At a young age, he already knows that poverty is despised by society, the harshness of reality, and the volatility of life while he is still trying to make sense of where he is situated in society.

My question for this reading is: How does Silvio’s tranquillity toward the end reveal his outlook on life?