3 Stars – Jennifer's RMST 202 Blog

The Lover: And the Victim (Mar 12)

I feel SUPER strongly about this book. Parting from my usual neutral stance in my usual blogs, today I’ll be sharing my very biased and personal viewpoint on “The Lover” by Marguerite Duras; specifically regarding its commentary on power dynamics and agency within relationships that have significant and inappropriate age gaps.

A. He Has the Power.

I see in many blogs where people have stated that the relationship between young Duras and the man is equal, an interpretation with which I strongly disagree. The novel’s depiction suggests a scenario where the young protagonist believes she possesses power and believes that the man is “at her mercy” (Duras 35), potentially subverting traditional power hierarchies. However, this perception of control is illusory and significantly problematic when examined within the context of how predators operate. In relationships with considerable age disparities, especially those involving minors, the older individual inherently holds more power due to a combination of factors including life experience, emotional maturity, and societal status. The belief of the young girl in her control or dominion over her lover can be seen as a narrative constructed by herself to rationalize or cope with the complexities of the relationship. However, this self-perception doesn’t change the reality of the power dynamics at play. Predators often manipulate their victims into believing they have autonomy and control in the relationship. This manipulation is a tactic that serves to further entrench the power imbalance, making it difficult for the younger individual to recognize the exploitation and abuse. The girl’s belief that she is in control, or her actions within the relationship, can be understood as responses to the manipulative strategies employed by the older man. Her perceived agency then becomes a part of the predatory dynamic, not an indication of genuine power or control!

B. Adding Race: She is Objectified and She Isn’t 100% Aware.

The role of race further introduces a layer of complexity to the power dynamic between the young girl and her older lover. While on the surface, the girl’s whiteness might seem to grant her a form of power or superiority within the colonial context of Southeast Asia, this interpretation fails to capture the nuanced realities of colonial power structures and the way these structures impact interpersonal relationships. Firstly, the term “little white whore” used to describe the young girl serves to exoticize and objectify her. This terminology reflects a colonial gaze that fetishizes her youth and race, placing her in a position of vulnerability rather than empowerment. In a colonial setting, whiteness can indeed confer certain privileges and statuses; however, when coupled with her gender and youth, her race becomes another axis along which she is objectified and commodified. This complicates the notion of racial superiority, as her perceived “power” is undercut by the ways in which she is diminished to an object of desire.

Secondly and I believe most importantly, the older man’s understanding of these racial dynamics signifies a manipulation of the colonial power hierarchies. His awareness doesn’t necessarily mitigate the power his age and experience afford him; rather, it complements it. He understands that within the colonial context, the young girl’s whiteness makes her both desirable and vulnerable, and he leverages this to maintain control over the relationship. His manipulation of the racial dynamics at play reveals a deliberate exploitation of the power imbalances rooted in colonial history and social hierarchies. Moreover, the young girl’s lack of awareness regarding the full implications of her racial identity highlights her naivety and further emphasizes her vulnerability. While she may navigate some aspects of their relationship with a sense of control, her lack of understanding about the interplay of race, colonialism, and power means that any perceived authority she has is limited and ultimately superficial. She is not fully aware of how her identity is constructed and constrained by the colonial context, which limits her ability to wield it in any meaningful way.

C. Conclusion: Warning to Impressionable Readers!

“The Lover” by Marguerite Duras could lead readers to perceive an equal power dynamic in a relationship marred by a significant age gap, thereby glossing over the young protagonist’s vulnerability and potentially glamorizing an exploitative relationship. While not aiming to blame Duras, who is narrating her personal experience that might inherently carry a complex, subjective viewpoint, it’s essential to highlight how such narratives might be misinterpreted by impressionable readers. Misinterpretations could dangerously normalize or even romanticize harmful dynamics, overlooking Duras’s potential critique of colonialism and age-related power imbalances.

D. Questions for Discussion:

Q: Do you believe this relationship is equal? Do you think the young girl actually held any significant power over the man?

Q: How do you interpret the role of racial dynamics in their relationship?

Hour of the Star: Nonhaving or Having? (March 5)

A. First: A Surface-Level Reading

In “Hour of the Star,” Clarice Lispector introduces us to Macabéa, a Northeast Brazilian girl living in Rio de Janeiro’s slums. Through Rodrigo S.M., the narrator, we see not only Macabéa’s life but also a critique of the societal disregard she faces. Rodrigo’s musings, “[s]ee the northeastern girl looking in the mirror…in the mirror appears my weary and unshaven face. We’re that interchangeable” (Lispector 14), reveal Macabea’s invisibility. Rodrigo sketches Macabéa’s life as a cycle of basic survival, yet, Macabéa carves moments of identity, like painting her nails red, against a backdrop of neglect. Further, her interactions with fellow Northeasterner, Olímpico, exposes the contrast between their approaches to their identities. Olímpico de Jesus is determined to redefine his identity and move up in society. He calls himself a “metallurgist” (Lispector 36) to emphasize the class standing of his blue-collar career; he adds “Moreira Chaves” to his name even when “de Jesus” is the “name of those who have no father” (Lispector 36); and he leaves Macabéa for Gloria, who “was born and bred in Rio” meaning that she “made her belong to the longed-for clan from the South” (Lispector 50). Olímpico foils against Macabéa’s acceptance of her circumstances, shown in their conversation when she doesn’t “think [that she’s] people” (Lispector 39). Throughout the novel, Rodrigo describes Macabéa as robotic and inhuman as she “never broke her habits” (Lispector 18) and had “no consciousness of herself… [she] thought she was happy” despite her unfortunate situation (Lispector 60). Interestingly, Macabea’s dream of becoming a movie star and achieving a moment of glory is ironically fulfilled only in her death, where she becomes the center of attention. This moment, where “people sprouted in the alleyway out of nowhere and gathered around Macabea” (Lispector 71), grants her the visibility she never had in life.

B. A Deeper Analysis: Societal Reinforcement of the Visibility of People and the Idea of “Non-Having”

Rodrigo’s Role

At a glance, the story explores Macabéa’s perceived low self-esteem, highlighted through Rodrigo S.M.’s narration, which discusses her “shameful” life. A deeper dive reveals the societal pressures shaping Macabéa’s identity and her struggle for recognition within a system that consistently marginalizes her. Specifically, the narrator Rodrigo’s storytelling goes beyond mere recounting; he actually partakes in the societal oversight Macabéa endures. He explicitly comments on Macabéa’s lack of self-image, suggesting it is due to “shame because she’s modest or because she’s ugly” (Lispector 14). This observation by Rodrigo does more than depict Macabéa’s personal insecurities; it underscores how societal attitudes, influenced by factors like socio-economic status and gender, play a significant role in her self-alienation and the broader issue of her invisibility. Through Rodrigo’s narrative lens, we see how the narrator’s portrayal itself acts as a mechanism that perpetuates the systemic neglect Macabéa experiences. Further, Rodrigo portrays Macabéa as “liv[ing] in an impersonal limbo, without reaching the worst or the best. She just lives, inhaling and exhaling, inhaling and exhaling. Actually—why should she do anything more? Her existence is sparse.” (Lispector 15). Again, Rodrigo negatively reinforces Macabéa’s existence, suggesting she lives a life diminished to its barest essentials, where dreams and desires find little room to flourish. In contrast, I believe Macabéa does try to assert her identity—be it through engaging with advertisements to learn new facts or painting her nails red—standing as a quiet defiance against a society who belittles and disregards her. These are her attempts to construct a sense of self against a backdrop intent on diminishing her presence.

Nonhaving

The lecture’s discussion on the “story of ‘nonhaving'” (Beasley-Murray 6) helps us understand Macabéa’s story. This concept illuminates the challenge the narrator faces in presenting Macabéa’s life, a life so starkly defined by absence—of material possessions, of societal validation, of a coherent self-identity—that it escapes conventional comprehension. Rodrigo’s difficulty in crafting “an accurate and ethical portrayal” (Torres in Beasley-Murray 6) of Macabéa speaks to an ethical dilemma: how to articulate a life that defies the societal frameworks available to us. It highlights a persistent hesitation and doubt, not just in the act of narration but in the very attempt to understand a state of being so alien to Rodrigo’s own experiences and, by extension, to those of the wider society.

Professor Beasley-Murray’s insight adds another layer to this discussion, pointing to the dual nature of consumption in the construction of ourselves (4). He suggests that how we build our identities through available resources can simultaneously foster can lead to both self-making and self-erasure. From this perspective, Macabéa’s struggle could stem from her disengagement with societal consumption practices—practices that validate an individual’s societal status, practices eagerly embraced by Olímpico as he seeks to elevate his social standing. Yet, it’s crucial to question if Macabéa’s downfall is due to her non-consumption, or rather, if her hesitant attempts at self-invention—despite the external belittlement and societal marginalization—represent a form of resistance against an imposed invisibility given to her at birth. Contrary to the total erasure suggested by her socio-economic status and the narrator’s portrayal, Macabéa’s endeavors, though modest, signify her struggle against the societal forces that seek to deny her personhood. Her fascination with ads and the ritual of painting her nails red, acts that might seem trivial, are her ways of asserting a self in a world that refuses to acknowledge her. In light of this, one might argue that Macabéa’s life, as presented through the external gaze of the narrator and the societal context of her existence, is not merely a tale of “nonhaving” but also a critique of the societal and narrative structures that determine what having means. Indeed, Macabéa’s life of poverty is “unknown to most individuals and to which [we] cannot fully relate” (Torres in Beasley-Murray 6).

C. Conclusion

I believe Macabéa’s story, and the struggle of the narrator to ethically and accurately capture her essence, underscores the limitations of our societal narratives in encompassing the full breadth of human experience, especially those lived on the margins of visibility and comprehension. Admittedly, I’m also uncertain if my interpretation of her story in this blog post is correct.

D. Questions for Discussion

Q: Do you think Macabéa was content with her life?

Q: How would you contrast Olímpico with Macabéa?

Combray: Madelines and Memories (Jan 14)

A. Initial Thoughts

My first read of Marcel Proust’s “Combray” was SO difficult. Initially, it seemed like a never-ending text of sleep and a madeleine soaked in tea. Proust starts by painting this scene where the protagonist experiences “the taste of the crumb of madeleine soaked in [his great aunt’s] decoction of lime-flowers…” (6), which conjures up the his memories of childhood in Combray. However, as I delved deeper, the text transformed into a sentimental story about family dynamics and childhood.

B. Important Themes: Family Dynamics & Childhood

I believe that Proust’s narrative mirrors his own life as a sickly child who was deeply connected to his mother (6), evident in the protagonist Marcel’s (Marcel Proust) experiences. One moment that stood out in regards to Marcel’s family was young Marcel’s distress over his great aunt teasing his grandmother about his grandfather sneaking liquor, leading Marcel to run “up to the top of the house to cry [himself] in a little room beside the schoolroom and beneath the roof” (20). Marcel later views this memory with humor as “in later years, one can grow so well accustomed [to these memories] as to smile at them…” (20), reflecting the evolving nature of childhood memories and a young child’s innocence.

Further, Marcel’s relationship with his strict father and his deep attachment to his mother are laid out in intimate detail. When Monsieur Swann visits, Marcel becomes annoyed because it means his mother won’t kiss him goodnight. He sends a letter to her through the maid, Francoise, to beckon his mother. His emotions are raw when he describes how his “intoxicated heart [was] gushing [the] sweetness of [his] mamma’s attention…” (41). And how he feels anxious, yet excited waiting to see her (43). When Marcel’s mother comes to see him, despite knowing she’d be angry at his dependence, he throws himself at her, showing the vulnerability a child has with their parents. Further, Marcel’s dad, who seems cold, shows this softer side, telling the mother to sleep with him tonight as “you can see quite well that the child is unhappy” (48). His father’s reaction opens a window into the nuanced and contradictory nature of parental love. Marcel’s father’s different kind of affection (50) highlights the diverse ways love manifests in a family. Further, the portrayal of Marcel’s mother is also emotional. Her struggle to balance tenderness with the need to foster independence in her child is a recurring theme, shown when she tears up seeing her son cry, offering to read him a book (51). The moments of vulnerability shared between them are delicately crafted, offering a nuanced exploration of their relationship.

C. Concluding Thoughts

At the end of Part 1, Proust offers a reflection on memory that reshaped my reading of the text. He draws a contrast between involuntary memories, which emerge spontaneously, and memories we summon through effort. His observation, “since the facts which I should then have recalled would have been prompted only by an exercise of the will… To me it was in reality all dead” (57), implies that deliberate memories lack the vividness of those that surface unexpectedly (the madeleine memory). This revelation helped me appreciate his detailed writing style, which initially posed a challenge. The detailed descriptions, particularly about family dynamics, brought the story’s world to life, making it more meaningful.

D. My Question For Discussion

Q: Why do you think Proust (or Marcel) thought about Combray specifically when he took a bite into the madeline?

Q: How do the first few pages detailing sleeping introduce the concept of conscious versus unconscious memories? In what ways does it parallel the madeleine invoking memories of Combray?