So this week, I read The Picture of Dorian Gray (1891), the only published novel of the great Oscar Wilde. Not only is it one of his most famous works, but a great many of his quotable quotes comes from this book, and the preface outlines his aesthetic and artistic theory. Nevertheless, for a work that defines art and beauty, the novel seems to be saying quite a few pointed things about Hedonism.
Dorian, of course, retains his outward, youthful appearance as his portrait shifts and alters with time, not only aging instead of Dorian, but also absorbing the ugliness that is the byproduct of sin. In removing the consequences of action, the portrait allows Dorian to act only in pursuit of pleasure, regardless of its effect on those around him. In doing so, Dorian both experiences the supernatural, Gothic element of the work, while allowing himself to become the abhuman figure--as monstrous inwardly as the portrait is outward.
Furthermore, though the novel contends that art must hide the artist to be successful, the underlying gay subtext of the novel leads me to conclude that Wilde is, in some ways, rather close to the surface. Not only does the adoration of Dorian by Basil and Harry seem at least homoerotic, the fact that the majority of lives ruined by Dorian are men cannot be overlooked. Even the description of Dorian's short friendships with other men calls to mind romantic interludes. The stereotypically dandyish behavior that Dorian exhibits doesn't help in this regard.
The novel is also greatly concerned with art and the meaning of art. Whether it is Wilde speaking directly in the preface, or the art theories espoused by Basil or Harry, or the vast differences between Sybil's acting abilities, the treatment of art as valuable for it's own sake is a foremost theme. Dorian's various obsessions in the midst of his societal prominence point toward the enjoyment of art for art's sake, rather than for a didactic or moralistic reason.
As for the Gothic, we again have the motif of the portrait showing the truth, something of a throwback to Otranto and the like. We have also an anti-hero figure; Dorian's slow, tragic fall, I would argue, prevents him from being a Byronic Hero. There is the supernatural element, coupled with a scientific reasoning. It is interesting that, as usual, the supernatural seems to come from a reality of angels and demons. We also have the corrupting influence of the city, albeit in a smaller dose than in Dickens. Rather than concerning itself with the horrors of the Victorian Age, the novel satirizes the upper class avoidance of the topic.
So next week, we'll be reading Dracula (1897), one of my all time favorite books, as well as viewing both Nosferatu and "Buffy vs. Dracula."
Showing posts with label Otranto. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Otranto. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Northanger Abbey or, if Radcliffe had been Intentionally Funny
Jane Austen's Northanger Abbey (1818) is something of a jump backward in time for the purposes of this blog. As most Austenophiles are aware, this was the first book she ever completed, but it would remain un published until her death. So, throwing ourselves backwards, we find that in one way, Austen's work is a contemporary, and indeed response to, The Mysteries of Udolpho. Nevertheless, Austen's genius, which we'll discuss momentarily, and her perfection of the novel form ties her work more closely to Victorianism, due to the Realist style in which she writes. Austen simply belongs next to Charles Dickens.
The discussion of this novel as part of this course is somewhat problematic. Not only is this the only overtly parodic novel we're discussing, but categorizing this as a true Gothic novel is almost impossible. One of the major reasons that this book can be seen as lacking Gothicism is Austen's Realism. The weird that has been present in each of the previous novels--even, to an extent, in Radcliffe's work--is totally absent from this book. This partly due to Udolpho's scientific explanation of every strange occurrence. Writing directly in response, Austen gives her explanation for the strange happenings (what few there are) immediately; there is no black veil for Catherine to obsess over. Rather, her "mysterious document" is explained almost as quickly as it is introduced. Austen is directly parodying Radcliffe here-rather than inspiring terror at the unknown, Austen is more interested in satirizing the thought process that Catherine follows. The whole overblown style of Gothicism is incessantly mocked.
Nevertheless, by introducing us to Catherine, by subsuming Gothic works like Udolpho and The Monk and the Northanger horrid novels, Austen both enters a metatextual discourse about what it is to be a novel and incorporates elements of Gothicism. Rather than playing them for tragedy (or drama), as the other Gothic writers do, Austen instead plays them for comedy. Indeed, she's beginning here a fine, long tradition of parodying the Gothic--a trend perhaps most apparent in the treatment of Frankenstein as a text. Even though the laundry bill is quickly resolved, and General Tilney is innocent of murdering his wife, the fact that Catherine attempts to understand her surroundings through theorizing about the Gothic means that we, the audience, tend to do the same.
Another fascinating element of this novel is the narration. Obviously, with Austen and her free indirect speech, such a comment is superfluous; however, the ways in which the narrator here skewers the tropes that make up not only Gothic but all novels marks the beginnings of Austen's genius. As one of the greatest writers in the history of English, Austen is the perfecter of the novel--a genre which remained still nebulous in her time. The vast differences between Walpole and Austen do not properly convey that it's only been thirty to forty years difference in their publishing. Indeed, her perfect understanding of how a novel works--for example, writing about Catherine, plain, middle-class, with parents, rather than some beautiful orphan princess, and making it above all funny--must have contributed to her skill as an author.
Now, as for elements that this book adds to Gothicism, I can name two. First, we've already discussed the major element of parody that remains present in Gothicism up to the present--Rocky Horror, Young Frankenstein, Vampires Suck---but parody is not something that confines itself to Gothicism. Rather, the various elements that make up the Gothic (most obviously the weird) are simply ripe for parody, because they are incredibly ridiculous things that take themselves, at least mostly, seriously. Second, the blending of the Gothic with other genres, I think, has something to owe this book. This is Austenian Realism at its finest, yet it is also a Gothic novel. We'll encounter similar genre-blending in future books; we'll also see how other genres steal elements from Gothicism as part of writing a novel. In some respects, because so much of the novel's creation is indebted to Gothicism, it is difficult to find novels that don't contain something Gothic about them.
So, for the next two weeks, I'll be reading Bleak House (1852-53) by Charles Dickens, because Dickens is long-winded.
The discussion of this novel as part of this course is somewhat problematic. Not only is this the only overtly parodic novel we're discussing, but categorizing this as a true Gothic novel is almost impossible. One of the major reasons that this book can be seen as lacking Gothicism is Austen's Realism. The weird that has been present in each of the previous novels--even, to an extent, in Radcliffe's work--is totally absent from this book. This partly due to Udolpho's scientific explanation of every strange occurrence. Writing directly in response, Austen gives her explanation for the strange happenings (what few there are) immediately; there is no black veil for Catherine to obsess over. Rather, her "mysterious document" is explained almost as quickly as it is introduced. Austen is directly parodying Radcliffe here-rather than inspiring terror at the unknown, Austen is more interested in satirizing the thought process that Catherine follows. The whole overblown style of Gothicism is incessantly mocked.
Nevertheless, by introducing us to Catherine, by subsuming Gothic works like Udolpho and The Monk and the Northanger horrid novels, Austen both enters a metatextual discourse about what it is to be a novel and incorporates elements of Gothicism. Rather than playing them for tragedy (or drama), as the other Gothic writers do, Austen instead plays them for comedy. Indeed, she's beginning here a fine, long tradition of parodying the Gothic--a trend perhaps most apparent in the treatment of Frankenstein as a text. Even though the laundry bill is quickly resolved, and General Tilney is innocent of murdering his wife, the fact that Catherine attempts to understand her surroundings through theorizing about the Gothic means that we, the audience, tend to do the same.
Another fascinating element of this novel is the narration. Obviously, with Austen and her free indirect speech, such a comment is superfluous; however, the ways in which the narrator here skewers the tropes that make up not only Gothic but all novels marks the beginnings of Austen's genius. As one of the greatest writers in the history of English, Austen is the perfecter of the novel--a genre which remained still nebulous in her time. The vast differences between Walpole and Austen do not properly convey that it's only been thirty to forty years difference in their publishing. Indeed, her perfect understanding of how a novel works--for example, writing about Catherine, plain, middle-class, with parents, rather than some beautiful orphan princess, and making it above all funny--must have contributed to her skill as an author.
Now, as for elements that this book adds to Gothicism, I can name two. First, we've already discussed the major element of parody that remains present in Gothicism up to the present--Rocky Horror, Young Frankenstein, Vampires Suck---but parody is not something that confines itself to Gothicism. Rather, the various elements that make up the Gothic (most obviously the weird) are simply ripe for parody, because they are incredibly ridiculous things that take themselves, at least mostly, seriously. Second, the blending of the Gothic with other genres, I think, has something to owe this book. This is Austenian Realism at its finest, yet it is also a Gothic novel. We'll encounter similar genre-blending in future books; we'll also see how other genres steal elements from Gothicism as part of writing a novel. In some respects, because so much of the novel's creation is indebted to Gothicism, it is difficult to find novels that don't contain something Gothic about them.
So, for the next two weeks, I'll be reading Bleak House (1852-53) by Charles Dickens, because Dickens is long-winded.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
The Castle of Otranto, or What's Going on with the Helmet, Exactly?
So, as promised, today I'll be discussing The Castle of Otranto by Horace Walpole. As the first true Gothic novel, I was a little surprised at a few of the different elements that make up the work. First, the quality of the writing is simply lacking. This book is clearly more of an important piece of literature than it is a great one. The varying, almost bipolar, method of conveying the plot--where for a few pages there is no dialogue and the narrator explains everything, and then there are large chunks of dialogue without any real context--is perfectly understandable in a novel from this time period. However, it is the contents of the novel which are valuable to this discussion. One of the things I noticed immediately is that Walpole coaches the novel as a translation (a very old one at that) from Italian. Obviously, this is part of the contemporary style of novel writing; that said, given the nature of the work as a Gothic text, the self-effacing nature of the preface can be viewed as an element of self-parody that tends to turn up in similar works.
Furthermore, the setting of the novel centuries before its publishing marks another aspect of the traditional Gothic--this aspect would soon fall out of favor, leading to novels set in contemporary times. What the setting does, however, is strengthen the suspension of disbelief. It is simply easier to imagine the supernatural elements of the novel when they are placed long ago and far away. As far as the supernatural is concerned, it is also interesting that over-laying essentially every action is a light dusting of Catholicism. This element of Gothicism would continue on in various ways from this moment forward--I'm thinking here of exorcism films in which all Christianity is Catholic. The foreign-ness of Catholicism to the Anglican Britain also plays into the weirdness factor.
Finally, in this novel we see the beginnings of the Gothic archetypes, most obviously the Virgin Maiden and the Corrupt Man. Both Isabella and Matilda are obviously Virgin Maidens--the narration seems to fall all over itself praising their piety and grace--especially that of Matilda who originally wanted to be a nun. Likewise, Manfred plays the role of the Corrupt Man, willing to do anything, even the most grievous of sins, in order to further his aims. His pursuit of Isabella near the beginning of the book is, most likely, what was appropriate in an attempted rape scene at the time. It will be interesting to see how these Gothic elements play out in Ann Radcliffe's The Mysteries of Udolpho (1794) next week.
Furthermore, the setting of the novel centuries before its publishing marks another aspect of the traditional Gothic--this aspect would soon fall out of favor, leading to novels set in contemporary times. What the setting does, however, is strengthen the suspension of disbelief. It is simply easier to imagine the supernatural elements of the novel when they are placed long ago and far away. As far as the supernatural is concerned, it is also interesting that over-laying essentially every action is a light dusting of Catholicism. This element of Gothicism would continue on in various ways from this moment forward--I'm thinking here of exorcism films in which all Christianity is Catholic. The foreign-ness of Catholicism to the Anglican Britain also plays into the weirdness factor.
Finally, in this novel we see the beginnings of the Gothic archetypes, most obviously the Virgin Maiden and the Corrupt Man. Both Isabella and Matilda are obviously Virgin Maidens--the narration seems to fall all over itself praising their piety and grace--especially that of Matilda who originally wanted to be a nun. Likewise, Manfred plays the role of the Corrupt Man, willing to do anything, even the most grievous of sins, in order to further his aims. His pursuit of Isabella near the beginning of the book is, most likely, what was appropriate in an attempted rape scene at the time. It will be interesting to see how these Gothic elements play out in Ann Radcliffe's The Mysteries of Udolpho (1794) next week.
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