The Little Tiny Girl

With blondes it is his custom to praise their gentleness, with brunettes their constancy, with white-haired ones their sweetness.  In winter he wants plumpness, in summer he wants leanness.  The tall woman is stately, the tall woman is stately; the little tiny girl, the little tiny girl, the little tiny girl, the little tiny girl, the little tiny girl, the little tiny girl, the little tiny girl, the little tiny girl, the little tiny girl is always charming, is always charming, is always charming; he makes conquests among old women for the pleasure of adding them to the list.

First, apologies that this is a bit late. Due to our conversation last class about Faust's lust for Margaret/Gretchen, the innocent, "little tiny girl," I was struck by this passage.  Leporello categorizes the women with whom his master has relations but stresses "the little tiny girl."  I would like to explore the reason why powerful men desire naive, young girls.  Are they attracted by the qualities that the girls possess because they can never regain them?  How is the "little tiny girl" a conquest when she can physically be won rather effortlessly?

Leporello

Don Giovanni: Oh, come now, clown, oh, come now, clown, don't bother me.

Leporello: No, no, master, no, no, master! I don't want to stay!

D.G.: Listen to me, friend--

Lep.: I want to go, I tell you!

D.G.: What have I done to you, that you want to leave me?

Lep.: Oh nothing at all, you almost murdered me.

D.G.: Don't be crazy, don't be crazy, crazy, crazy, it was in fun.

Lep.: And I'm not joking, and I'm not joking, joking, joking, but I want to go!

I think that Leporello is a very interesting character. He is there throughout the opera with Don Giovanni as he commits all of his evil acts, and aides him along the way. What blame does he face, and what blame should he face? Does the fact that he no longer wants to help Don Giovanni anymore save him at all?

Elvira

Don Giovanni: Hush, hush, for a crowd is gathering around us. Be a little more prudent, you'll make yourself ridiculous.

Donna Elvira: Don't hope it, o villain, I have lost my prudence, I want to show everyone your guilt and my condition, I want to show everyone!

- Act One, Scene 3 (page 34)

These lines emphasize Elvira's desperation. She will do whatever it takes to expose Don Giovanni, even if it means exposing herself. She is willing to break out of her prescribed social role - she has "lost her prudence" and will make herself "ridiculous." Isn't this a striking attitude in Seminar IV? Most of our readings have been about conforming to society. Remember Hobbes's unbreakable contract or Pride and Prejudice's rigid rules of conduct. Elvira is a rude awakening. There are still wild cards in human nature; Medea is still among us...

Long Live Freedom!

Don Giovanni: Everyone is free to come in, long live freedom. (I.5.54)

What, exactly, is Don Giovanni's problem? I was repeatedly surprised by the degree to which I'd underestimated him. This "bundle of deceit" is not a very endearing character. Here's a collection of some of his most revealing passages.

(All by Don Giovanni, except for the last two. Act.Scene.Page)

He asked for it, it's his fault. (I.1.8)

The poor unhappy thing is in love with me, and out of pity I must pretend to love her; it's my undoing that I'm a kind-hearted man. (I..29)

I no longer know what to do with myself, and a horrible storm is threatening me, oh God! (I..61)

It's all love; whoever is faithful only to one is cruel to the others; I, who feel such ample sentiment in myself, love all of them; and since women don't comprehend these things, they call my natural goodness deceit. (II..67)

I hope she will break down soon! what a pretty little trick is this? there is no talent more versatile than mine... (II..70)

They leave-- Don Giovanni swaggering, and Leporello cowering. (II..103)

Statue: Repent, change your life, it is your last moment!
Don Giovanni tries to withdraw his hand.
Don Giovanni: No, no, I do not repent, get you far away from me!(II..114)

He can neither be remorseful nor penitent. He is perpetually unsatiable, forever proud, and yet quick to disguise and deceive. He is willfully unable to fear. In what way do these things compose his role as a "libertine?" He is probably one of the most "free" characters we, or at least I, have encountered. Don Giovanni can do anything he wishes. He is not movable by pity or any social more. Not even a living statue of the man he murdered, riding through his dining room door booming the word "REPENT," can budge his resolve. What is the role of freedom here? of restraint?

P.S. "The death of wicked men is always just like their life." Don Giovanni died in hellfire, sure, but his "What terror!" is the only indication that he is feeling anything but physical pain. And besides, Don Giovanni's life was pretty plush. Is it just me, or was the ending just a little unsatisfying?

Diversion

All right , you need no sorcery
And no physician and no dough.
Just go into the fields and see
What fun it is to dig and hoe;
Live simply and keep all your thoughts
On a few simple objects glued;
Restrict yourself and eat the plainest food;
Live with eh beasts, a beast: it is no thievery
To dress the fields you work, with your own dung.
That is the surest remedy:
At eighty, you would still be young. (p 236-237, lines 2352-2359)

My post cites an earlier part of the assignment. I want to again discuss the idea of activity as a means to human happiness, or as a means to reinvigorate "youth" and a zeal for life. The above quote seems to resonate the earlier statements Mephisto makes: "You're in the end--just what you are!" and "Let your reflections rest / And plunge into the world with zest!" The activity Mephisto advocates (as "the surest remedy") is simple; to work hard, to eat plain, and to live "with the beasts." Is this genuine advice, proposing to Faust that he enjoy his human life by always keeping busy? Or is keeping busy a method to distract one's self from such metaphysical drama as that which plagues Faust. In this light, activity would be a means of deterring human tragedy rather than promoting human happiness.

"IS SAVED" - god

I'm rehashing this quote because I think it might be one of the most important ones in the text. In response to several of the previous posts, I think this quote reflects a discontinuous and sudden intervention into the darkness of human passion by divine salvation.

It also reflects, like the quote about striving and salvation, God's pity for human passions. And in the end, even Mephistopheles laments the impotence of evil these days. The passions, for the sake of the play, are exciting in their darkness, but ultimately, all it takes is a few words from heaven (or some rose petals) and salvation triumphs.

Does this mean it's easy to get to heaven for Goethe? Or, that the difficulty lies in striving and thereby wearing out the passions?

Also, did anyone else have a really hard time figuring out that Margaret and Gretchen are the same person?

Trinity

"You'll hear much more before we leave her. I know, it sounds like that for many pages. I lost much time on this accursed affliction, Because a perfect contradiction intrigues not only fools but also sages. This art is old and new, forsooth: It was the custom in all ages to spread illusion and not truth with Three in One and One in three they teach it twittering like birds; with fools there is no intervening. Men usually believe, if only they hear words that there must also be some sort of meaning." (p, 253). 

The idea of spreading "illusion" and "not truth" is something that most at Goethe's time would not attribute to the Church. It is obvious that there is some sort of animosity toward not only the Church, but the idea of the trinity. Where father, son, and holy spirit are one, Mephistopheles disagrees. Are the words spoken through Mephistopheles  the actual thoughts of Goethe's? Where does this disagreement come from and what other signs do we see towards this type of thinking?

Also...

"Who ever strives with all his power,

We are allowed to save." p.493, lines 11936-7

How and for what does Faust strive with all his power?  Also, what are we to make of Faust's relationship with Gretchen, and what does their relationship have to do with his being saved at  the end of the text?  In other words, what's love got to do with it?

"What is destructible

Is but a parable;

What fails ineluctably,

The undeclarable,

Here it was seen,

Here it was action;

The Eternal-Feminine

Lures to perfection." p.503, closing lines

Is the word "lures" here appropriately translated?  And what do we think of Faust ascending to the Virgin Mary?  I'm really blown away by the lack of "God" at the end of the play and the presence of the feminine in redemption.

Finally, there is a huge difference between Part I and Part II.  What are they both centrally about, and how do they relate/not relate to one another?

blogmaster brennan: a Great man

“http://www.goethe-receives-a-letter-and-is-led-to-revise-his-opinion-of-mister-darcy.com/”

I think we should all take a moment to reflect on what a treat it has been to have such an amazing blog this past semester and how it is all due to the efforts of our Great friend:  Blogmaster Brennan.  The above quote is just the latest and greatest example of how were it not for his talent and efforts it would be a chore to post on this thing once a week; as it is, I look forward to visiting the website twice a week, every week to see what new and amusing tidbits Brennan has added to the blog.  Well done, sir.  I tip my hat to you.

Getting to Heaven

"Margaret: Judgement of God! I give / Myself to you.

...

Margaret: / Thine I am, father. Save me! / You angels, hosts of heaven, stir, / Encamp about me, be my guard.

Mephisto: She is judged.

Voice (from above): Is saved." (4605 - 4610 [421])

"Angels (floating through the higher atmosphere, carrying Faust's immortal part): Saved is the spirit kingdom's flower / From evil and the grave: / 'Who ever strives with all his power, / We are allowed to save.' " (11934 - 11941 [493])

"The Three: Though a woman greatly sins, / Yet she may come near to thee, / And what her repentance wins / Is hers in eternity: / Grant this good soul, too, the blessing, / That but once forgot, / Ignorant she was transgressing; / Pardon her and spurn her not!" (12061 - 12068 [501])

Working off of Miriam and Patt-man's posts... Here Goethe gives two ways that souls can be accepted by heaven. I know there's the whole, can't ever understand who actually gets to go to heaven, thing, but neither Margaret or Faust really struck me as the type. What is Goethe saying about going to heaven? What is the significance of Margaret rejecting Faust's attempts to free her and instead accepting her punishment and further judgement from Heaven? And even though Faust strove throughout his life (though like Miriam I am not entirely clear to what), what about the whole, conjuring hell spirits and working with Mephistopheles? He wasn't exactly fighting him throughout the book... Is the moral of the story, hell never wins? In other words, is Goethe advocating an all-merciful God/heaven? Will Wagner go to heaven?

What to do with the upward desire?

"This is the highest wisdom that I own,

The best that mankind ever knew:

Freedom and life are earned by those alone

Who conquer them each day anew.

...

Then, to the moment I might say:

Abide, you are so fair!

The traces of my earthly day

No aeons can impair.

As I presage a happiness so high,

I now enjoy the highest moment" (Faust's last words, 11573-86).

"The final, wretched, empty moment,

The poor man wishes to hold fast" (Mephisto, 11589-90).

"Who ever strives with all his power,

We are allowed to save" (Angels, 11936-7).

Whereas I think I agreed Brennan's earlier position that Faust directs his upward desire into the world, to attempt to experience everything, something different happens with Faust's last speech (and few preceeding pages). I read these pages to develop a Bacon-esque notion of domination of nature, together with a romantic increase of the will and mind. Faust's last effort is some sort of massive plan masterminded by himself (11504), and his last words seem to give up on the upward desire. He wants to settle with some sort of glorified freedom of will and earthly projects (11580; 11507) by creating something he can call his own (11241), fighting his way to "freedom" (11403). Mephisto, however, mocks his plan: "You cannot do what you desire" (11548). Mephisto also mocks Faust's final giving up, perhaps because it involves embracing a dream of something he couldn't pull off, or perhaps because Mephisto thinks that Faust's last words mask despair. Is Goethe suggesting that the best way to deal with the upward desire is to forget about it? It seems contrary to the rest of the text, but this reduction or annihilation of desire seems to be what Faust is doing when he tells "care" that "I shall refuse to recognize" you (11495).

And yet, Faust might not succeed in ridding himself of the upward desire. The "highest moment" that he professes to be content in the world, he is "presag[ing] a happiness so high" (11585-6). Does Faust value heaven or earth more highly? His last two lines seem flexible; they could go either way. Perhaps this moment is the best not because he is content on earth but because he shrewdly knows that when he says "I'm content!" he can die and be taken to the real happy place. But he has no right to think this, according to his pact with the Devil.

Finally, the angels suggest that striving is best, i.e. living the upward desire in all its intensity. I suppose this is Goethe's opinion. Even when the striving gets one into trouble, it seems to be a pardonable offense. What becomes of the horizontal desire that was present in Faust? Do these ever get balanced? Is Goethe's teaching possibly this: that you use your freedom and willpower on Earth to dominate nature and make manipulative plans, and reduce your "striving" (upward desire) to the brief places where it is in one's "power," looking forward to death and the only real fulfillment of desire?

Or is it perhaps offer a more positive option, a hint of there being "God's presence" (11920, 11901), perhaps even on Earth that might offer some satisfaction to man? True, this Presence is listed in the section in heaven, not on earth; and the watchman who "built fast to gaze into the infinite" (11343-4) observes a great absence (11336-7). But the beginning part includes references to Easter and the prologue of John, both of which offer some solution to the problem of the conflicting desires ("for you he [Christ] is here" (807)). But on the other hand, this might just be a rhetorical device used to point out a great absence, and indeed somewhat ironic (see 2072). Mystic experience is also portrayed rather negatively, as Mephisto is often making fun of Faust for it. So what's left? Surely more than "Eternal Emptiness" (11603)?

This Sea of Error

"Happy the man who still can hope

to swim to safety in this sea of error.

What we don't know is what we really need,

and what we know fulfills no need at all."

-- Lines 1064-1067

Are these lines at the heart of Faust's discontent? Is the problem with his books that they lack a guide through their "sea of error"? Is this why Faust summons Mephistopheles - is it better to have the devil for a guide than no guide at all? "The way up is the way down"... remember Four Quartets and the speaker's descent into darkness? Is Faust actually on the way to salvation when he calls Mephistopheles?

Also, another question (but maybe one we can't answer yet). Mephistopheles has a lot of human qualities - he looks like a human, talks like a human, has humor and sarcasm, and seems to inhabit a similar middle ground (above animals, below the divine). Can we conclude anything about humanity from this? In particular, is Goethe implying that evil is a part of human nature, not some oustide force?

Faust vs. The Academe

Old Peasant: Dear Doctor it is good of you

That you don't spurn us on this day

But find into this swarming throng,

Though a great scholar, still your way. (981-984)

Wagner: One soon grows sick of forest, field, and brook,

And I shall never envy birds their wings.

Far greater are the joys the spirit brings –

From page to page, from book to book. (1102-1105)

With Wagner we see another character in the vein of Pride and Prejudice's Mary: A Great Books major, if you will. However, Goethe seems to put more emphasis on the insufficiency of books to satisy. Faust has read the great books, and understood the great subjects, yet he longs for the light of the moon, and still goes amongst the villagers. Wagner is seen as pretentious and ignorant. The lesson to be learned is simple, but it is still difficult to implement in our own lives. It seemed to be a similar struggle of Descartes: having read all the texts that are supposed to answer the questions of live, and still being unsatisfied. So my question is: Goethe is lampooning the academe, and much of the scholarly world in general. In writing the character of Wagner, is Goethe mocking us? 

"In the beginning was the Act..."

It says: "In the beginning was the Word."

Already I am stopped.  It seems absurd.

The Word does not deserve the highest prize,

I must translate it otherwise

If I am well inspired and not blind.

It says: In the begnning was the Mind.

Ponder that first line, wait and see,

Lest you should write too hastily.

Is mind the all-creating source?

It ought to say: In the beginning there was Force.

Yet something warns me as I grasp the pen,

That my translation must be changed again.

The spirit helps me.  Now it is exact.

I write: In the beginning was the Act. (Kaufmann pg. 153)

Faust is not satisfied with the translation given in the Bible stating, "In the beginning was the Word."  He seems to understand this term literally, and does not think that pure words "deserve the highest prize."  He seeks a term that represents "the all-creating source," but rejects both Mind and Force.  Once he determines that "In the beginning was the Act," no more attention is given to this subject.

I find Faust's choices of words extremely compelling and cannot help but think that they are deliberate.  The progression from Word to Mind represents Faust's desire for more knowledge than that which he has gained via education (which is in the form of words).  He seeks something more: "Though I know much, I should like to know all" (Kaufmann, pg. 111).  There is some Force that will propel him forward in this quest to know, resulting in an Act that becomes the source of his gain.  While this is my own (most likely flawed) interpretation of these lines, I do think they are worth examining.  What is the function of Faust's struggle to find the right "word" and does he choose the most appropriate one?  What is the connection amongst the terms from which he chooses?  How do they relate to the plot?     

"The reeling whirl I seek"

What wonders could the world reveal?
You must renounce! You ought to yield!
That is the never-ending drone
Which we must, our life long, hear,
Which, hoarsely, all our hours intone
And grind into our weary ears.
--Faust, Kaufmann 175

cf. speech beginning "As in that terrifying reeling..."
--Faust, Kaufmann 177

If ever I recline, calmed, on a bed of sloth,
You may destroy me then and there.
--Faust, Kaufmann 183

That all my striving I unloose
Is the whole purpose the pact.
...
And let enjoyment, distress,
Annoyance and success
Succeed each other as best they can,
For restless activity proves a man.
--Faust, Kaufmann 187

Do you not hear, I have no thought of joy!
The reeling whirl I seek, the most painful excess,
Enamored hate and quickening distress.
Cured from the craving to know all, my mind
Shall not henceforth be closed to any pain,
And what is portioned out to all mankind,
I shall enjoy deep in myself, contain
Within my spirit summit and abyss,
Pile on my breast their agony and bliss,
And thus let my own self grow into theirs, unfettered,
Till as they are, at last I, too, am shattered.
--Faust, Kaufmann 188

Faust's frustration is innately human. He feels as though two souls are inside him: one crying for sloth or alternately (and more expansively) against provincial contentment, as in his speech "As in that terrifying reeling..." (177). The other strives, seeks something: I think the last two quotations I posted flesh out what he's striving for. What I think Faust wants is to live a truly human life; this in a very specific sense. He wants restless activity, but not Hedonism; freedom from his striving, but not sloth. The last speech is especially revealing: he feels, deeply, the provinciality of his life, that is, the inability of one person to experience all, understand all, &c. His answer is "the reeling whirl," the "restless activity which proves a [hu]man."

From what I can gather (though I may be mistaken), the revolutionary work of Hume, and (moreso) Kant seriously thickened the philosophic atmosphere of the day. Their work 'burnt down the libraries,' as it were, and I think the pathos of Faust is what hung in the air afterwards. The notion that the sensible world is somehow discovered by means of our minds lends incredible meaning to idea of humanity. Hume and Kant had an attitude of humility, e.g., one should not pretend to know any but the most certain concepts. But I think a result of their work is a sense that a person should be able to surpass those bounds, to know it all, and in Faust's case I think, to experience it all. How much of Faust's struggle stems purely from his humanity? How much stems from the philosophic conflagration of the day? If any, how much remains today?

Superiority?

"In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you...He spoke well, but there were feelings beside those of the heard to be detailed, and he was not more eloquent on the subject of tenderness than of pride. His sense of inferiority--of its being a degradation--of the family obstacles which judgement had always opposed to inclination, were dwelt on with a warmth which seemed due to the consequence he was wounding, but was very unlikely to recommend his suit."

 Austen portrays Darcy in a very interesting way. At first we hear him declaring his devout love for Elizabeth, but later we hear about his sense of "inferiority", it seems like he spends a bit more time putting her down, and in a sense degrading her than he does actually complementing her. To me it seems like the most botched proposal of all time. Why does Austen show this sort of incompetence in a male character? What is this saying about the dominance that a man thinks he has, and what sort of reaction would this proposal get in a modern age? 

Capitalism Spills Over

The stupidity with which he was favoured by nature, must guard his courtship from any charm that could make a woman wish for its continuance; and Miss Lucas, who accepted him solely from the pure and disinterested desire of an establishment, cared not how soon that establishment were gained . . . marriage had always been her object; it was the only honourable provision for well-educated young women of small fortune, and however uncertain of gaining happiness, must be their pleasantest preservative from want. (Ch. 22, p. 122)

Everyone can agree that there are numerous examples of perverse relationships in this book, but can we observe a trend that unites them all? I believe a strong argument can be made that most interactions we deem perverse carry an aura of enterprise. What drives the market drives the community, turning every interaction into a transaction. This is evident in the nature of Collins' proposal to Elizabeth, Charlotte's acceptance, all of Mrs. Bennet's actions, and other, numerous examples. At the core of all these interactions seems to lie this rule: "Give me that which I want, and you shall have this which you want." This rule does not seem the same core that sustains family, friendships, and marriages, or at least the core that should.

Relationships

I'm finding that I to like to concentrate on the depiction of relationships in our readings, so I'm not going to pass up this opportunity. Austen provides us with such an array of relationships that it's fairly difficult to keep track of them all. Whether it's the Jane/Elizabeth (or Bingley/Darcy) relationship, the Mr/Mrs Bennet, Collins/Charlotte, Elizabeth or Jane/Miss Bingley, or even Elizabeth's inner relationship, we are given a wide array of examples of relationships from which we might pick and choose the "proper" model. I have a bunch of questions running through my head, but here are a few as clear as I can get them out. Though clearly not the best option, is the optimism in the Collins' marriage merely a naive perspective/avoidance of the obvious truth, or is it the best way to cope with an unfit marriage/inability to find a better match? Elizabeth seems to flip between correct and incorrect judgements of people, both resulting from [over]thinking about everything. Are we to see this as a "get out of your head" type of advice, or can we find a way to think the right amount about things? And so that I stop for your sake, my final question is about the friendships between Jane and Elizabeth, Bingley and Darcy, and even Elizabeth and Charlotte. Elizabeth and Charlotte's relationship seems to drift apart, while the others stay strong and provide guidance and comfort for each other. Which, then, is more important: the relationship between friends, or the relationship between lovers (by which I mean people who are interested romantically in each other, not the sexual version)? Are they one in the same? Does marriage change the importance of that relationship? Sorry, I guess that wasn't really one question.

Intensity, Honesty, and Relationality

"Elizabeth tried to unite civility and truth in a few short sentences" (Ch 38).

"I am only resolved to act in that manner, which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness, without reference to... any person so wholly unconnected with me" (Elizabeth, Ch 56).

"Elizabeth was forced to give into a little falsehood here" (Ch56).

"[My upbringing] almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing, to care for none beyond my own family circle" (Darcy, Ch 58).

Last class we talked of a possible "great" contribution of Ms. Austen to the conversation across centuries was the notion of a delightful quickness in conversation and a demand to be interesting, both of which were contained in a deadly serious game; all this I call intensity. Elizabeth seemed the model of it, with her "spunk."

After Peter's quote however, Elizabeth's character takes a marked change. She realizes she has been confined to a limited world of prejudices, thanks to Mr.Darcy's prideful honesty. While she does become more absent-minded for a time, she is nevertheless very reluctant to leave the world of social connections ("civility") that she knows so well. However false this world of relations and the false appearances it requires, it seems to be necessary and also good, at least in part (from the point of view both of Elizabeth and, I think, Austen). Perhaps Elizabeth retains her ideas of the general goodness of people from Jane.

Sensing the importance of civil relations, but being now awakened to what lies beyond appearances, Elizabeth tries to unite truth and civility. But the factors of the game (many of which now come from herself) have increased so much that it becomes nearly impossible to play by all the rules, so to speak. Elizabeth finds herself struggling to conceal the secrets of others and her own natural feelings. She is often torn about how to act.

I see these two issues of appearances/reality (prejudice) and self/others (pride) as being intimately related. (These themes relate to several books we have read.) Once the true self enters into the picture, one cannot stay confined in the realm of societies prejudices, and one becomes marked, as Elizabeth does. But one cannot and should not escape society either, because of its importance and goodness. Is a happy medium ever reached? Elizabeth's and Darcy's quotations above seem to propose a medium and then strike it down. But perhaps, in uniting such different, seemingly contradictorry characters in their marriage, they will change each other to allow for a self-aware honesty and an all important civil relationality to be joined in the delightful, but credible intensity which may be the contribution of this book. Do all of the paradoxes and complexities get resolved with the marriages, as the book seems to suggest?

Narrator and Elizabeth's voices

"Till this moment, I never knew myself." (Ch 36)

These are the words Elizabeth speaks to herself after reading Darcy's letter a couple times and realizing her previous prejudice of him. However, revisiting the first ball scene, wherein Darcy is made out (apparently by objective observation) to be arrogant. Nothing has happened to make him change, yet from this point on, we as readers are positively disposed to Darcy.

I am fascinated by Austen's tension between an omniscient narrator, who can get into the heads of many characters, and the way Elizabeth's limited view of Darcy informs the narration's own limits. This tension makes Elizabeth's discovery so surprising to us.

The best people are the people who change

I was thinking about how every significant character is put through some sort of test, and there are those who fail and those who pass.  Lydia remains as stupid as ever after the terrible decisions she makes, Mr. Bennet doesn't become a better father, Mrs. Bennet is still ridiculous, Lady Catherine and the Bingley sisters are still snobby, Mr. Collins becomes even more self-righteous, Charlotte Lucas is unhappy but stands by her decision to marry Collins, Wickham's character is still wicked, etc.  Those who pass, Elizabeth, Darcy, Georgiana, Bingley, and Jane, are the best characters and the best people because they take it upon themselves to improve and come out of their trials a better person.  They are forced to see how they really are, and if they do not like what they see they must change it for the better.  I think Austen is making a comment in this book that the best people are the ones who are interesting, have the potential to change for the better, and actually do so, and the better the person the greater the change. I was also thinking about the only characters who are exceptionally good from the beginning of the text: the Gardiners. They are both of good sense and character, classy, hardworking, entertaining, and a moral, intellectual, and social bedrock for Elizabeth. Are they Austen's idea of an ideal couple and ideal people? Are Elizabeth and Darcy ideals by the end of the text?

Found It

"What does Mr. Darcy mean," she (Elizabeth) said to Charlotte, "by listening to my conversation with Colonel Forster?"

"That is a question which Mr. Darcy only can answer."

"But if he does it any more I shall certainly let him know that I see what he is about.  He has a very satirical eye, and if I do not begin by being impertinent myself, I shall soon grow afraid of him."  Ch. 6, p. 24-25

In this quote Elizabeth is aware that someone is scrutinizing her, a reversal of situation because usually it is Lizzy who scrutinizes everyone else.  She is nervous about losing the upper ground and of becoming the object of Mr. Darcy's satire, so she claims she must do what she does best--say something witty and impertinent--in order to assure that she will not drop rank from "satirizing observer" to "she-who-is-satirized."  Elizabeth is used to being at the top of the witty scale, and to fall lower under the watchful eye of Mr. Darcy would be grave indeed.  She is afraid of being satirized, but is she worthy/needy of it?  Does she merely escape satire because she is clever enough to manipulate the situation in her favor?  Does that make her immune to satire or just a good dodger?

Fiction

The insipidity and yet the noise; the nothingness and yet the self-importance of all these people!
--ch. 6

What really fascinates me about Pride and Prejudice is the interplay between the author, the characters, and their personae. There are clear rifts between the characters as they are and the way they self-conceive and/or are seen by others, and this is brought out by the contrasts between the indirect and the direct characterization. What does this say about the artifice of society? Are these fictional characters living in a fiction themselves?

I apologize for the very late, and very short post. I have not left myself enough time this morning to fully flesh out and support this idea, but I hope what I have done will yet be useful.

Mary: PLS Student?

"What say you, Mary?  for you are a young lady of deep reflection I know, and read great books, and make extracts."  -Mr. Bennet, Chapter 2, pg. 9 (Penguin edition)

"Pride," observed Mary, who piqued herself upon the solidity of her reflections, "is a very common failing I believe.  By all that I have ever read, I am convinced that it is very common indeed, that human nature is particularly prone to it, and that there are very few of us who do not cherish a feeling of self-complacency on the score of some quality or other, real or imaginary.  Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonimously.  A person may be proud without being vain.  Pride relates more to our opinions of ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us."  -Mary, Chapter 5, pg. 21

"... but every impulse of feeling should be guided by reason; and, in my opinion, exertion should always be in proportion to what is required."  -Mary, Chapter 7, pg. 33

I was particularly interested in the characterization of the members of the Bennet family.  Very little attention is given to the middle daughter, Mary, but I think that she has some of the most insightful comments.  Her father refers to her as a reader of great books, and it is obvious that she draws much of her insight from her readings.  It is rather telling that the middle quotation, one of the most well-known of the book, is said by Mary.  She seems to have a more complete, philosophical understanding of human nature than the rest of her family.  I found myself wondering what it would be like to be Mary, the sole PLS student of the Bennet family.  I think that she would be frustrated with her situation, but have pride in the fact that she actively pursues a love of wisdom rather than a husband.  Pride, according to Mary, relates to an opinion of oneself but is a failing.  Is Mary guilty of being prideful?  What do you think it would be like to be Mary?   

Pride and Prejudice, pt. 1

(Mr. Darcy) wisely resolved to be particularly careful that no sign of admiration should now escape him, nothing that could elevate her with the hope of influencing his felicity (Chap 12, pg. 59).

When dinner was over, (Elizabeth) returned directly to Jane, and Miss Bingley began abusing her as soon as she was out of the room (Chap 8, pg. 35).

Mr. Bingley and Jane were standing together, a little detached from the rest, and talked only to each other (Chap 18, pg. 100).

As we read Pride and Prejudice, I'm sure we would all like to separate ourselves from the pettiness and the gossip of the characters, writing them off as normal for a time when communication what much less open, especially between men and women. Are we so different, however, from those who either hide their affection by ignoring the one for which they have feelings, or by waiting until someone is gone before talking badly about him, or by noticing that those who are in love talk are perfectly happy being in discussion only with each other? Other than rejecting the incessant use of formal titles, are things today really that different?

Pride and Prejudice!

"Miss Bennet was therefore extablished as a sweet girl, and their brother felt authorized by such commendation to think of her as he chose."

- end of Ch. 4

"There are very few of us who have heart enough to be really in love without encouragement. In nine cases out of ten a woman had better show more affection than she feels. Bingley likes your sister, undoubtedly; but he may never do more than like her, if she does not help him on . . . When she is secure of him, there will be leisure for falling in love as much as she chooses . . . if she were married to him tomorrow, I should think she had as good a chance of happiness as if she were to be studying his character for a twelvemonth . . . "

"You know it is not sound, and that you would never act in this way yourself."(irony!)

"But no sooner had he made it clear to himself and his friends that she had hardly a good feature in her face, han he began to find it was rendered uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. To this discovery succeeded some others equally mortifying."

- Ch. 6

It seems that our leading ladies - and perhaps our leading men - are torn between what is practical and what is romantic. Austen makes the situation humorous, but the girls' situation really is a serious one. They have no option but to marry, and the person they marry will determine most aspects of their lives. Luckily Austen always gives us a happy ending, but real life isn't so easy. What is one to do? What is the best option? Specifically, should one rely on the advice of others, or on one's own experience? In Jane's case, she nearly loses (and indeed would have lost, if she hadn't been so lucky) Bingley because she takes her time determing his character for herself. On the other hand, Lizzie almost loses Darcy because she bases her opinion of him on the opinion of others. The men have an easier time of it - not so much depends on their decision - but they also struggle with how to deal with common opinion. Bingley is easily swayed, while Mr. Darcy appears to be the most honest character of all (although he is hard to read, he does always act on his genuine feelings). Sometimes appearences are useful things, as per Charlotte's advice. How should one solve these problems? Is there a right way or a wrong way? How honest should one be about one's opinions, especially since those opinions are liable to drastic changes?

Great Books

Her mind was less difficult to develope. She was a woman of mean understanding, little information, and uncertain temper. When she was discontented she fancied herself nervous. The business of her life was to get her daughters married; its solace was visiting and news. p. 7

"You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room," p. 13

The former was divided between admiration of the brilliancy which excercise had given to her complexion, and doubt as to the occasion's justifying her coming so far alone. The latter was thinking only of his breakfast. p. 33

What do these quotes have to do with each other? Nothing - except that they make this novel perhaps the most enjoyable "text" I have yet read in PLS. I feel like a 7th grade girl who just got asked to her first dance. I'm going to leave that statement as is. Austen's writing is drastically different from anything we have yet read: her language is very crisp, the dialogue bounces back and forth, and her omniscient narrator seems reveals characterizations that are far more introspective (I think that's the wrong word) than any author we have yet read. Austen is an author - we have read poets, philosophers, and theologians, but I don't think we have yet read a text in Sem that is intended by the author primarily to entertain.  Austen loves dropping in wise and witty aphorisms, but this is through and through a novel. While Gulliver's Travels is very entertaining, (I would say) it is clear that Swift wrote it primarily to educate, and secondarily to entertain. So my question is simple: What makes Pride and Prejudice a "Great Book?"

Complexing Characters

"Pride," observed Mary, who piqued herself upon the solidity of her reflections, "is a very common failing I believe. By all that I have ever read, I am convinced that it is very common indeed, that human nature is particularly prone to it, and that there are very few of us who do not cherish a feeling of self-complacency on the score of some quality or other, real or imaginary. Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonymously. A person may be proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us." (p. 21)

Mary had neither genius nor taste; and though vanity had given her application, it had given her likewise a pedantic air and conceited manner, which would have injured a higher degree of excellence than she had reached. (p. 25)

Austen seems very coy in revealing the personalities of her characters, specifically through comparing the content of her dialogue and her narration, i.e. the voice of her characters and her voice. The above quotes reveal direct opposite personalities of Mary Bennet - the first being a statement of Mary's and the second being a statement of the author's. My high opinion of Mary formed from her moving speech was starkly contrasted by Austen's disapproving description a few pages further. Returning to Mary's quote, I noticed Austen reveals a little of this opinion in describing how Mary "piqued," or "prided" herself upon "the solidity of her reflections." Nevertheless, I still wonder how truthfully and comprehensively Austen describes her characters, and how much she expects readers to discover by themselves. I tend to think it more of the latter, especially with Elizabeth and Darcy, and it appears to force the reader's participation in one of the novel's themes: deducing true character from appearance, words, and actions.

Secondly, that the passion between the sexes is necessary, and will remain nearly in its present state. -Ch1

No one's bought it up yet, so I will.

Does the possibility of contraception and fertility education answer Malthus's basic problem? For him:

sexual attraction ----> babies

This is increasingly not the case; the sociological trends have changed drastically.

On the other hand, if the suffering of poverty is necessary for moral virtue, then we might prevent against extreme poverty, but will cease to be truly happy people. Perhaps this is the Catholic Church's stance--to encourage population growth so that people can be destitute and happy, or so that some people can be destitute and others generous and happy.

"Through the animal and vegetable kingdoms, nature has scattered the seeds of life abroad with the most profuse and liberal hand. She has been comparatively sparing in the room and the nourishment necessary to rear them. The germs of existence contained in this spot of earth, with ample food and ample room to expand in, would fill millions of worlds in the course of a dew thousand years. Necessity, that imperious all pervading law of nature, restrains them within the prescribed bounds. The race of plants and the race of animals shrink under this great restrictive law. And the race of man cannot by any efforts of reason, escape from it. Among plants and animals, its effects are waste of seed, sickness, and premature death. Among mankind, misery and vice. The former, misery, is an absolutely necessary consequence of it. Vice is a highly probable consequence, and we therefore see it abundantly prevail, but it ought not, perhaps, to be called an absolutely necessary consequence. The ordeal of virtue is to resist all temptation to evil." (p20)

After reading this passage, I couldn't help but be moved by Malthus's writing. His style and language are simple beautiful, and I must point out that this passage, along with many others, are simply amazing not only on paper, but also in theory. The thought of life and nature being bound by some something is simply the natural way of life. Malthus is showing that no life on this planet can get too big, and in fact we are all regulated by the laws of nature, which are unbreakable. But, to me what is most important about this passage is his use of the word "vice". For someone who is a bit ignorant towards Malthus' use of the word, it might be helpful to dig deeper into his meaning. Malthus uses this concept throughout a lot of his work, but if vice is a consequence of regulation, shouldn't it help that we know exactly what it is?

Limits

"It may be said with truth that man is always susceptible of improvement, or that there never has been, or will be, a period of his history in which he can be said to have reached his possible acme of perfection. Yet it does not by any means follow from this, that our efforts to improve man will always succeed, or even that he will ever make, in the greatest number of ages, any extraordinary strides towards perfection. The only inference that can be drawn is that the precise limit of his improvement cannot possibly be known." (p. 90, chpt. XIV)

When I first read this, I found it incredibly easy to agree with Malthus. But then I re-read the selection, and I started to think that maybe my quick consent was wrong. When I first agreed, I thought the best part was when he said "or even that he will ever make, ... any extraordinary strides towards perfection." It then struck me, however, that perhaps we are stuck, and that we really won't get any nearer perfection than we are at now. Wouldn't that mean that we are in fact at the limit of improvement? Not to say that we are already perfect, but that we are as good as we are going to get, and any perceived improvements are simply variations in how we live imperfectly? It seemed strange to me that Malthus didn't address this possibility in his "desperately grim picture of the human condition," as Patt-man so accurately put it. Are we stuck in the mud, so to speak? And why didn't Malthus indulge this possibility?

Real quick: first, I'm really sorry about all the blog failures in recent days. I'll do better. Second, I just wanted to make sure we caught this:

The same number of cattle, or even the same weight of cattle at the different periods when killed, will have consumed (if I may be allowed the expression) very different quantities of human subsistence.

-- ch. XVI

...becomes, in modern English:

The same number of cattle, or even the same weight of cattle at the different periods when killed, will have consumed (pun definitely intended) very different quantities of human subsistence.

-- ch. XVI

Okay, that is all.

Heart of the Matter

"Want was the goad that drove the Scythian shepherds from their native haunts" (p28, Ch III).

"Some of the noblest exertions of the human mind have been set in motion by the necessity of satisfying the wants of the body" (114, Ch XVIII).

"When the mind has been awakened into activity by the passions and the wants of the body, intellectual wants arise; and the desire of knowledge and the impatience under ignorance form a new and important class of excitements" (119, Ch XVIII).

For the first 17 chapters (excluding ones we did not read), Malthus paints a desperately grim picture of the human condition - especially for the less fortunate classes - in terms of health and living necessities/conveniencies (two "universally acknowledged ingredients" of human happiness (p99, Ch XVI)), the necessities including food and "passion between the sexes" (19, I). He hammers home the gravity of humanity's dilemma, ending Ch 17 with the powerful line, "We shall not only exhaust our strength in fruitless exertions and remain at as great a distance as ever from the summit of our wishes, but we shall be perpetually crushed by the recoil of this rock of Sisyphus" (111, XVII).

However, Malthus does not end the book there. He adds two chapters to develop his theory that the earth is a state of trial by which our minds are developed to their highest ends. He describes how bodily wants develop from stimuli and spur development of the mind and its wants, which in turn develop from the infinite variety of earthly stimuli. He gradually shows how Metaphysics also "add to that class of excitements which arise from the thirst of knowledge" (120, XIX). He even approves of theology (a shocking feat in seminar four!), as long as it does not eliminate the Mystery or instantly satisfy all of the desire to know. He goes on to remark that it would seem "consonant to our reason" that minds highly developed by the trials of this world would be given immortality in the next; but even without heaven, "Life is [in light of the bigger worldview presented in the last two chapters] a blessing independent of a future state" (123, XIX).

What I find most impressive is that Malthus did not stay wallowing in the dismal picture that he portrayed as strict fact. He was impelled to move beyond the limited view of the principles of population (which are, doubtless, important!) to find something else with which he could be happy. This movement took him through physics, metaphysics, and theology to an afterlife or at least a better view of life here ("symmetry, grace, and fair proportion of the whole" (120, XIX)). What was it that impelled him to go beyond the abysmal principles of population? What was it about his heart that made him able to say "Hope springs eternal in the human breast" (124, XIX)? What did his own wants promise him, and why was this promise credible enough for him?

Problem with evils

"The principle according to which population increases prevents the vices of mankind or the accidents of nature, the partial evils arising from general laws, from obstructing the high purpose of the creation." p. 116, XVIII

"The idea that the impressions and excitements of this world are the instruments in which the Supreme Being forms matter into mind, and that the necessity of constant exertion to avoid evil and to pursue good is the principal spring of these impressions and excitements, seems to smooth many of the difficulties that occur in a contemplation of human life, and appears to me to give a satisfactory reason for the existence of natural and moral evil, and, consequently, for that part of both, and it certainly is not a very small part, which arises from the principle of population." p.124, last paragraph of XIX

Reading this text I picked out three major themes:

improvement/perfectibility of society

role of the principle of population increase in the improvement of society

evils from the general laws of nature/evils that arise from the principle of population and the place of these evils in the divine plan of the Supreme Being and in the improvement of society

The passages I quoted above seem to draw links between all three of these themes.  Can we unpack the above statements (and perhaps use other ones as well) to delineate the links between the three themes?  In the first quote Malthus says how the principle of population checks the vices of men and of nature from obstructing God's divine plan, and in the second quote he writes that natural and moral evil arise from the principle of population but are justified in light of what exactly?  I'm having trouble seeing how these two quotes are not contradictory.

And by the way, all this works for your soul, too

Quotes from § 49, pp.84-86, ak.336-338:

...because objects which cannot be given us in any experience, do not exist for us...

However as the Ego in the proposition, "I am," means not only the object of internal intuition (in time), but the subject of consciousness, just as body means not only external intuition (in space), but the thing-in-itself, which is the basis of this phenomenon; [as this is the case] the question, whether bodies (as phenomena of the external sense) exist as bodies apart from my thoughts, may without any hesitation be denied in nature. But the question, whether I myself as a phenomenon of the internal sense (the soul according to empirical psychology) exist apart from my faculty of representation in time, is an exactly similar inquiry, and must likewise be answered in the negative.

And in a nearby footnote:

...the law of the permanence of substances has place for the purposes of existence only, and hence can hold good of things so far as they are to be consigned and conjoined with others in experience, but never independently of all possible experience, and consequently cannot hold good of the soul after death.

plus, in § 34:

...beyond [experience] no concepts have any significance, as there is no intuition that might offer them a foundation.

I have to take a break from reading to post about this, because this completely blew my mind.

So, okay, let's see here: objects exist, but we can't know anything about them-in-themselves. We can know about our experiences with them, and that is all we can know. Our sensibilities enable nature/the-totality-of-appearances. Our understandings / our a priori synthetic principles of possible experience enable experience itself in a way analogous to the way our minds 'create' space and time. So it ends up that every object that meaningfully exists can be experienced. Several parts of that are wrong, I'm sure, but is that it vaguely?

So Kant took all that, and then applied it to your mind.

This whole thing seems almost solipsistic, but without the self, somehow. This idea that we would not exist without being aware of oneself is fascinating and absolutely trippy. We are self-aware; we can observe ourselves, or in other words experience ourselves, and so we exist. But things which cannot be experienced make no impression on any sensibility; how could one suppose something like that to exist in any meaningful sense?

How does this connect to Rousseau, and what it means to be human? For Rousseau, humans are self-aware creatures, who think, who consider events in sequence, who place artificial systems of value over otherwise equivalent things (cf. the dancer segment). There was a sense in Rousseau that we were over ourselves, disconnected from ourselves. Here in Kant, the "ego" wouldn't even exist if we weren't sensing it! I just remember that passage in Rousseau, where the savage dies without even noticing that he had been alive. In Kant's philosophy, where existence itself seems so deeply and meaningfully engraved in the geography of the human mind, it would make sense that existence itself would depend on self-awareness. What are the implications of this?

I apologize in advance if any of this turns out to be invalidated in what I haven't read yet. I'll edit if necessary.

Experience and the Sensuous World

For we are not concerned with the nature of things in themselves, which is independent of the conditions both of our sensibility and our understanding, but with nature as an object of possible experience; and in this case the understanding, since it makes experience possible, thereby insists that the sensuous world is either not an object of experience at all or that it is nature [namely, the existence of things determined according to universal laws].  (322, pg. 69)

Similar to the sentiments of some of my other group members, Kant confuses the you-know-what out of me.  This passage is especially mind-boggling, and it's never a good sign when the conclusion of a part is inconclusive!  So I'm hoping someone will be able to shed some light on this issue... Kant says that the sensuous world is 1) not an object of experience or 2) nature, which a few lines above is described as "an object of possible experience" in terms of our intelligible experience.  So doesn't (2) contradict (1)?  What is the distinction between these two conceptions of the sensuous world?  Doesn't everything boil down to experience and our faculties of understanding our experiences?

The Supreme Being

But as we can never know these beings of understanding as they are in themselves, that is, as definite, yet must assume them as regards the sensible world and connect them with it by reason, we are at least able to think this connection by means of such concepts as express their relation to the world of sense. "355"

I'm going to start off by saying even if I think I know that Kant is arguing, I probably am in the wrong. Because of that lack of confidence I am not going to give a cool "Greil on Kant" interpretation. I would simply like to talk through Kant's argument as to why we should believe in the immaterial being if we can never know it as the thing-in-itself. I guess some questions could also be, How does Kant's "proof" of a God compare to Descartes? Are their motivations the same? Do the two arguments support each other, or combat each other?