Showing posts with label Theme. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Theme. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 24, 2016

The Social Anxieties of Crime and Detective Fiction

As discussed elsewhere in this blog, fiction is thematic. This is particularly true when dealing with detective and crime fiction because it deals with physical, emotional, and social anxieties. We'd rather see the world, our homes, and our lives as safe, and place the dangers of the modern world at a distance. News does this for us: all the bad things happen somewhere else and to someone else. Detective and crime fiction is a safe way to invite these ideas into our homes and see a safe resolution.

The expectation in crime and detective fiction is simple: something has gone wrong and must be set right. Whether it be theft, violence, scandal, blackmail, or murder, the truth is sought, the wrong party brought to justice and amends made to the victims to return the world to a pre-crisis balance. Each possible crime represents more than itself: murder is a threat to the sanctity of life, theft to property, blackmail to privacy. When we see these crimes in fiction it’s an opportunity to explore the significance of these social ills. Even if it is just a little bit, we get to feel anxious about our own life, property, privacy, etc. Thankfully, the detective represents the social order, through their efforts to discover the evil and set it right.

Take the Sherlock Holmes story “The Adventure of the Speckled Band.” This story focuses on a young woman, Helen Stoner, who fears her life is being threatened by her stepfather, Sir Grimsby Roylott, because her sister died shortly before the sister’s marriage. Roylott is a violent man who keeps a menagerie of exotic animals, and keeps his stepdaughter's bed mounted in a room, so it cannot be moved. Holmes and Watson hide in Helen's room and discover a poisonous snake let into her room. They beat it back, and the snake attacks and kills Roylott himself, giving the story some poetic justice.

Roylott represents a threat to Victorian standards with his violent temper and exotic menagerie: hardly a respectable British gentleman. His step-daughter, not of his historically hot-tempered aristocracy, represents Victorian ideals of womanhood: she is innocent and needs protection, which appears in the form of Holmes. The violent, exotic Roylott not only poses a threat to his daughter but to Victorian decorum, womanhood, and fatherhood, in the name of claiming her inheritance. Holmes comes and fulfills the role of paternal protector, performing the social roles Roylott has abandoned. So this is not simply a crime story about violent men, damsels in distress, and exotic animals, but it's a story about foreign threats and influences, and familial duty, with Holmes to fill the gaps.

The villain represents threats to the social order while the victims represent what is good and wholesome and the detective returns the world to a positive situation.

This means when looking at crime and detective fiction, it is important to consider what the crime and villain represent thematically. To explore this idea, I'm going to take a few blog posts looking at how the classic, archetypal detective Sherlock Holmes deals with some of the major crimes and villains he faces, and, perhaps a few other pieces of crime fiction.

To begin, I will look at the three most famous of Holmes villains: Irene Adler, Professor Moriarty, and Charles Augustus Milverton. Adler is famous because she is the woman who beat him, Moriarty because he is “the Napoleon of crime” Holmes' arch-nemesis, and Milverton with the use of information for personal gain.

Wednesday, September 2, 2015

Themes and Motifs - What’s the Difference?

The terms “theme” and “motif” are related concepts, so related that they frequently get lumped together. I don't like to do that. The way I see it, while they are certainly related and similar, even co-dependent concepts, they are not the same.

When we read a story, we deal with something that doesn't exist but we imagine it as if it were: characters are like real people, imaginary worlds are as real as our own, and we measure them in ways similar to how we measure real people and the real world. This means we engage with stories as if they are genuine, if not possible. This is the level of reading that says...
  • Elizabeth Bennett misinterpreted Mr. Darcy.
  • Intelligent raccoons and trees can be partners in crime.
  • Firemen burn books.
  • And a long time ago, there was a galaxy far far away...

We tend to refer to this as the “story world”; we conceptualize a world wherein these people, places, and events exist and interact.

But literature is able to operate in more than just making something that didn't or couldn’t happen seem as if it could. In addition to the story world, there's also the thematic or symbolic level of a text. This is where, as readers, we recognize patterns in a story and across other stories so we can identify the themes. If something appears multiple times and in different forms in a story, it probably has some thematic significance. Themes don't exist within a story world any more than they exist in real life, but an author will focus on specific details and describe them to highlight these themes.

So, there's the story world, and then there's themes. The two are separate, and it's motifs that bring them together. Motifs are the parts of the story world that generate themes. Similar to symbolism, motifs and themes unite the concrete with the abstract.

A motif is an element of a story world that recurs in the same story and in other stories. We are able to recognize motifs because we encounter them frequently. In a way, stories are merely collections of motifs. The more motifs we encounter, the clearer the pattern they develop becomes, and the clearer the themes of the story become. The theme is the abstract concept invoked by the motifs.

For example, in my post on “Babylon Revisited” I referenced the “ghosts” and old friends who reappear and cause conflict in the narrative. These old friends, aided by Fitzgerald’s florid style, bring the theme of a regrettable past to the front. Similarly, in my post on “The Yellow Wallpaper,” the details that suggest the narrator is imprisoned are motifs for this theme: the locked door, the bars on the windows, the room being a former nursery, etc. And even though the bars are the only bars in the narrative, they reappear whenever the narrator tells us they are there.

One of the powerful traits that themes have, though, is that they go beyond individual narratives. I addressed this in my introduction to theme, discussing how Robinson Crusoe and Life of Pi are both narratives that are very different but they share the same theme of survival. It’s their differences and how they treat this theme that makes them interesting. The relationship between themes and motifs is still quite complicated, because while different stories will share themes, they will still present them with different motifs, treat the themes differently, and will juxtapose different themes. Robinson Crusoe has themes about middle-class pride and industry absent from Life of Pi, which takes a more dour look at a more dangerous situation.

Looking for themes can be one of the first exercises undertaken when analyzing a story or a poem. It gives the piece unity and meaning. It helps us make otherwise incomprehensible pieces fascinating and pieces that are centuries or millennia old significant and relevant. It helps us understand how stories are similar and different. If, when reading a narrative and anything recurs, odds are, the author is trying to invoke a certain theme. Themes and motifs are quite distinct, but one begets the other. They are inseparable.

Consider paisley. Paisley is a pattern, recognizable by its droplet or leaf-like patterns and intricate designs. Not every instance of paisley will be the same, but we can recognize it. The elements, its designs and shape, that make it recognizable can be considered its motifs: the shape, the intricate designs. Remove the designs, and it won't be paisley. Make it a square instead of a droplet but keep the designs, it won't be paisley. The theme? The fact that we can name and categorize it as such gives it its theme: its theme is paisley. The same themes will reappear, but every instance will be unique.

Saturday, May 23, 2015

Theme: Repetition & Abstract Concepts in F. Scott Fitzgerald’s “Bablyon Revisited”

Themes are scattered in fragments throughout a piece of literature. Identifying a theme is not simply a matter of “X marks the spot,” but rather a gathering of similar and related elements.

For example, in F. Scott Fitzgerald's “Babylon Revisited,” a spiritual sequel to The Great Gatsby, a man named Charlie returns to Paris after he has put his life back together to gain custody of his daughter, who is being raised by his deceased wife's sister. Much of the story plays out in flashbacks and with commentary on the past. It begins with Charlie inquiring after old friends from a bartender, and describes how the places and people once were: “the once-clamorous women's room” (699) and “the head barman, Paul, who in the latter days of the bull market had come to work in his own custom built car” (699) Most poignantly, however, outside of the hotel and bar, the narrator describes “the fire-red, gas-blue, ghost-green signs shone smokily through the tranquil rain” (700).

After conversations and observations that address a once-was past, the notion of ghosts stands out. It suggests this story is not just about a man in Paris in the years after the stock market crash, but it isn't a story about actual ghosts either: don't expect a spectral Gatsby to appear and offer advice. It's about memory and ghosts in a more abstract, thematic sense.

It would then be expected the word “ghost” will appear and reappear multiple times in the story, but it doesn't. There is only one more instance of “ghost” in the story: when two old friends, Duncan and Lorraine, encounter Charlie while he's lunching with his daughter, they are described as “ghosts out of the past” (704), but they aren't ethereal phantoms. The question is then, why describe them as ghosts?

Ghosts are intangible manifestations of the dead. They remind us of the, generally unpleasant, past. Prince Hamlet's father doesn't appear to tell Hamlet how great of a king Hamlet will be or how wonderful heaven is: he haunts Elsinore to describe how he was murdered, demand revenge, and bemoan his hellish condition. We can then say ghosts represent unfortunate pasts that cause problems in the present (why else haunt?).

Therefore, when we encounter references to the past in “Babylon Revisited,” whether subtle reminders or flashbacks, we encounter the same themes of regret, sadness, and dealing with the past, specifically, a past of wasteful fun preceding the stock market crash. Charlie is indeed haunted, and not just by the metaphoric ghosts Lorraine and Duncan; almost every page has some kind of mournful reminder of a lost life that left his wife dead and himself in a sanitarium.

When reading for theme, pay careful attention to what similarities emerge in subtle repetitions. Sometimes we don't understand the themes or the repetitions until we've already read a piece through. I didn't notice the “ghost” references and therefore didn't appreciate the deeper thematic meaning they gave the story until the second time I taught it. So, when looking for themes, look for those repetitions and similarities between the repetitions. There are different ways to represent any given theme, and the context of the piece will affect it.

Theme is one of the ways we are able to make personal connections with literature. It takes us from the distant, different events described by a story or a poem and gives us a way to make them personal. It’s more than 80 years since Fitzgerald published “Babylon Revisited” and almost 90 since The Great Gatsby, and yet we still read these and older stories. It’s because the themes gives us a way to understand not just different cultures, but it gives us ways to understand and identify how we see and engage with the world around us.

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Works Cited
Fitzgerald, F. Scott. "Babylon Revisited." The Norton Introduction to Literature. 11th ed. Ed. Kelly J. Mays. W.W. Norton, 2013. 699-713. Print.
Fitzgerald, F. Scott. The Great Gatsby. New York: Scribner, 2004. Print.

Saturday, May 2, 2015

A Brief Introduction To Theme

Theme can be hard to pin down. It's what a story or poem or play is about, but not in the sense of “he does this and she did that.” Rarely will a character or narrator boldly announce the themes of their texts, but finding the theme is the first step in interpretation.

Most stories try to make the events and people they describe appear as realistic as possible. For example, Yann Martel and Daniel Defoe went to great lengths to make their novels Life of Pi and Robinson Crusoe seem real as they plunged their protagonists into tales of shipwrecks and survival. These novels were published centuries apart, but both of them have characters whose lives are suddenly and drastically changed by a shipwreck. It doesn't matter one had an island with benign flora and fauna and the other was stranded on a raft to fend for and defend himself: they had to survive for a long time with what little they had.

Survival is an abstract concept. Any narrative where the characters are placed in a situation where the main concern is find food and shelter or die, it's safe to say it’s a tale of survival. Because survival is an abstract concept and because it appears in other narratives, like Lord of the Flies or Hatchet, we can call it a theme. However, it’s not going to be the only theme in these narratives. Just as a theme will appear in multiple narratives, multiple elements in a narrative will complicate and contribute to the themes of the narrative. If each of these were only about a single theme, they’d be the same story telling the same events the same way.

Theme develops through the repetition of narrative elements that complicate and advance the narrative.

Robinson Crusoe is not just about survival, but also colonization, ingenuity, and the middle class. The novel starts with his father admonishing him not to go to sea but to live a comfortable middle class life, and much of Crusoe’s narrative is about how he maintains and improves his conditions on the island. Crusoe doesn't just survive: he thrives. He catalogs his wares, his crop yields, his animals, and his activities, and even projects what he needs to do to maintain a comfortable existence as he becomes master of his domain. Every material aspect is accounted for. He rises from a poor situation to a higher one, advancing from being at the whim of nature (the shipwreck) to commanding it as he shapes his island.

Life of Pi isn't quite so positive. Pi has to struggle to survive, and rather than gradually improving, Pi’s condition gradually worsens. He has no trees to harvest nor seeds to plant – let alone ground to plant them in – and Richard Parker perpetually threatens his life. Pi catalogs what he has not to measure his wealth, but because once it's gone, it’s gone. Pi certainly has to be ingenious to survive, but the themes of the middle class and colonization are absent. If anything, loss factors much more into Life of Pi: he loses his family, his home, and his animals, in a single event and is left with a few bare supplies, Richard Parker, and his faith. Pi Patel survives but he does not thrive.

Theme is about identifying major issues and concepts that appear and reappear within and across stories. It involves associating not just the entire narrative with a single abstraction, but how the narrative repeats similar topics and issues, how these repetitions can cue us to broader concepts, and how these concepts reappear in other stories.