Wallace’s Double-binds

David Foster Wallace fills his book Oblivion: Stories (2004) with double-binds.

  • A character wishes to be significant while working at a job that demands his insignificance.
  • A child misses a teacher’s psychotic breakdown in the classroom, but only because a more horrific daydream transfixes him.
  • A tribe’s magical child can only dispense wisdom to the extent that the child does not ponder the nature of its wisdom.
  • A suicidally depressed man tries to render the truth that time makes representing anything truthfully impossible.
  • A husband and wife argue about whether or not the man’s snoring wakes his wife up or whether the woman dreams that the man snores and wakes up.
  • Because they are both asleep, they can neither confirm nor deny reality.

Several related questions animate these double-binds:

  1. What is the relationship between what we perceive and what is real?
  2. Can we know the truth?
  3. If we can, what truths about the world demand our attention?
  4. What is more significant: unity or diversity?

In covenantal terms, the stories ask these questions:

  1. Is there a reality that transcends human consciousness (i.e., God?)
  2. How do you truthfully represent the reality of the world and yourself?
  3. What ethical responsibility do we have to represent the world and ourselves truthfully?
  4. What are the consequences for failing to represent the world and ourselves truthfully?
  5. What is the legacy of truth or falsehood?

One more double-bind occurs to me. Wallace works through the nature of truth…in fiction.

I’ll write about the implications of his work over the next few weeks.

Shakespeare Project: Days 5-8

Today, I finished the Henry VI trilogy.

The plays ask a simple question: can a Christian be a good king? A straight reading of the plays says no. Henry VI is a devout man who is a bad ruler. Under Henry VI, the seeds for the War of the Roses were sown. He failed to govern his own land, and England lost the French territory they won under Henry V.

The plays are rife with spiritual allusions. The first part features Joan of Arc, whose visions inspire martial conquest. The second part features counterfeit conjurations meant to predict the kingdom’s future. The third part ends with a prophecy from Henry himself that the York clan will not survive.

Shakespeare connects England’s historical record to the books of Kings and Chronicles, tales of Israel’s unsuccessful monarch.

Here are two questions I don’t have the answer to yet:

  1. Is Shakespeare saying that Henry was a good Christian and a bad king, and are the two causally related?
  2. Is Shakespeare saying that Henry was, in fact, a bad Christian and a bad king, and are the two causally related?

The characters in the play assume that Henry is a devout man. It’s certainly a humanist assumption that a Christian can’t be a good king. I’ll have to meditate on this more.

Shakespeare Project: Days 3 and 4

I finished my third Shakespeare play of the new year, Henry VI Part 2. It’s regarded as the strongest of the Henry VI trilogy, and I can see why.

Henry VI is a fascinating figure, namely because he’s pious. You can’t find a more Christian king in Shakespeare’s corpus. Yet, his kingdom is in ruin. Treachery is everywhere. Henry can’t get his own wife’s support, much less that of his squabbling advisors. The most dynamic character in the play is a rebel, Jack Cade, who the Duke of York to see how far a rebellion against Henry VI will go. While Henry VI ends the play on the throne, we know his reign will not last long.

English society is disordered. The play’s key covenantal subject is “hierarchy. ” You are who you report to, the play implies.

Shakespeare Project: Day 2

I knocked out another play today: Henry VI Part 1. It’s a historical drama that critics either think Shakespeare didn’t write (co-writing candidates include Thomas Nashe) or shouldn’t have written. Given its lackluster reputation, I was surprised at how much was inside the play.

The play’s action occurs between Henry V’s death and the beginning of the War of the Roses. England’s great king is dead. That king’s young son is on the throne. Consequently, the English court is beset by political infighting, resulting in military losses in France. The most surprising part of the play? Shakespeare’s representation of Joan of Arc (Joan de Pucelle in the play). While she leads the French to victory early in the play, she ends in despair when her heavenly visitors cease to advise her. She even claims she’s pregnant as a way of avoiding execution (note: the plea doesn’t work).

The theme: sustained political power is hard to uphold, especially when the church is corrupt.

Shakespeare Project: Day 1

One of my New Year’s commitments was to reread Shakespeare’s corpus. I began today with his provocative The Taming of the Shrew.

The plot hearkens back to both folk tales and Biblical parables. Its premise? A beautiful younger daughter (Bianca) with many suitors can’t get married until her shrewish older sister (Katherine/Kate) gets hitched. Enter Petruchio. He commences to tame Kate, and the play ends with Kate telling her fellow wives, “My hand is ready; may it do him [Petruchio] ease.”

Criticism of the play is frequently polemical. Words like “ideology,” “patriarchy,” “sexuality,” “archaic,” “fantasy,” and “dominance” often appear. Given the play’s highly-charged content–a strong-willed woman succumbs to her husband’s will–critics can either decry the system represented in the play or insist that Shakespeare ironically undercuts the plot.

The one Christian reading of the play I found (by Dale G. Priest) allegorizes the play as a story of Christian conversion: “Kate is now able to experience the joys of responsible freedom rather than the misery and bondage of the self-centered will.”

The play comedically arcs from wrath to grace, and its subject is ethical. My hypothesis is that the idol the play destroys is one of marriage as natural, labor-free intimacy. Marriage requires work, which does not necessarily mean that the grace of a happy marriage is earned. Like salvation, the result of marriage follows from rather than occasioning grace. Petruchio, the husband, receives grace in the play’s final scene just as much as Kate, the titular shrew. He has not deserved Kate’s devotion, yet he receives it. They both had to count the cost of marriage: economically and emotionally. They do so as partners.

New Year; More Reading

I started the new year by reading Leland Ryken’s How To Read the Bible as Literature (and Get More Out of It). The book is more of an introduction to the topic than a definitive source. Its best feature? Copious further reading lists at the end of each chapter. I’ll be checking out the following books.

  • Robert Alter, The Art of Biblical Narrative (New York: Basic Books, 1981).
  • Northrop Frye, The Great Code: The Bible and Literature (New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1982).
  • G. B. Caird, The Language and Imagery of the Bible (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1980).
  • D. G. Kehl, ed., Literary Style of the Old Bible and the New (Indianapolis: Bobbs- Merrill, 1970).
  • James L. Kugel, The Idea of Biblical Poetry: Parallelism and Its History (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1981)
  • Literary Interpretations of Biblical Narratives, vols. 1, 2, ed. Kenneth R. R. Gros Louis (Nashville: Abingdon, 1974, 1982).
  • Leland Ryken, The Literature of the Bible (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1974).
  • Robert C. Tannehill, The Sword of His Mouth: Forceful and Imaginative Language in  Synoptic Sayings (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1975).
  • The New Testament in Literary Criticism, ed. Leland Ryken (New York: Frederick Ungar, 1984).

Notes from the Underground: Plot and Theme

Fyodor Dostoevsky’s Notes from the Underground (1864) is a propulsive novella narrated in the first-person by the Underground Man, a retired civil servant.

The novel has two sections. The first section records the Underground Man’s rantings against various elements of Russian society, particularly Utopianism. People are incapable of perfection, he argues, and are fundamentally irrational. Human beings want freedom, not because they will use it rationally, but because they want to choose their fate individually, no matter how unreasonable their choices are. The second section details the Underground Man’s shameful interactions with his military colleagues and his encounter with a prostitute named Liza. The Underground Man finds himself incapable of loving someone, much less the skills to function in contemporary society.

The novella asks a crucial ethical question: if human beings are irrational, how can they do what is right? The Underground Man can identify the moral hypocrisy of his colleagues and Russian society in general. His own tortured notes come from his sense that he, too, is a hypocrite in that he cannot live the way he should. The novel’s theme is that it is far easier to preach ethical revival than act. What the Underground Man does to Liza is unconscionable. Yet she is willing to forgive him and extend love to him.

Ethics and Suspense

Today, I read two selections from Alfred Hitchock’s curated collection, My Favorites in Suspense. The two illustrate the opposed content of suspense stories. “A Sentence of Death” by Thomas Walsh finds suspense in a cop seeking to correct injustice. Mann Rubin’s “A Nice Touch” finds tension in making the story’s protagonist even more unjust than the reader initially supposes.

Both stories feature a moment of recognition where a character recognizes a crucial fact about the world. The cop at the center of “Sentence” discovers he’s done his job poorly. The man at the center of “Touch” finds a way to keep sinning. “Sentence” ends with justice secured for the moment but our faith in justice shaken. The cops aren’t corrupt. They’re just incompetent. “Touch” ends with the main character unpunished. As a reader, I wasn’t happy about it. The character hasn’t escaped my judgment, and I’ve got a feeling Rubin wants to test my judgment as much as his character’s.

These stories are specifically designed to entertain, yet their value as entertainment would be non-existent if the reader had no moral conscience.

The Pale King: A Covenantal Theme

David Foster Wallace’s posthumous novel The Pale King (2012) is incomplete, but its best sections demonstrate the power of Wallace’s fiction.

THEME

Set in an IRS office, the novel concerns various characters attempting to find meaning in rote, often dull work. Wallace sees their dilemma as an ethical one. Characters thrive when they discover that their work concerns something larger than themselves. Their insight is not rarely religious, but it is always spiritual.

Interpreter of Maladies: Covenantal Theme and Plot

Every semester, I teach Jhumpa Lahiri’s collection Interpreter of Maladies (1999). I reread it today and found it as powerful as ever.

THEME

We destroy our communities through greed, lust, and pride. We most experience broken communities, particularly in marriage, when we communicate poorly. For Lahiri, we experience redemption when we tell or listen to stories because both build community.

PLOT

  • “A Temporary Matter”: A couple must deal with the traumatic stillborn death of their child.
  • “When Mr. Pirzada Came to Dine”: A woman remembers the way her family greeted a political exile.
  • “Interpreter of Maladies”: A Bengali tour guide discovers the malady afflicting an American couple’s marriage.
  • “A Real Durwan”: A Bengali community grows disenchanted with a talkative gatekeeper.
  • “Sexy”: A young woman has an affair with a married Bengali man and discovers what the titular word means.
  • “Mrs. Sen’s”: A young boy learns about adult loneliness when a local Indian immigrant cares for him.
  • “This Blessed House”: A newly married couple react differently to the Christian artifacts hidden on their property.
  • “The Treatment of Bibi Haldar”: A Bengali woman afflicted with epilepsy looks for a cure.
  • “The Third and Final Continent”: A nameless Bengali immigrant finds a new home in American thanks to his landlord, a 103-year-old woman.