A Letter

Dearest:

Simply put, I write to close the distance between us. No, the irony is not lost on me, as I realize that every moment puts me further from you, but I must try somehow to seal the foreboding gap I have foolishly put between us. As I sit, I watch the scenery pass the carriage doors. I head to port, but this time it is without you. I am sorry that I must go with you absent from my side, but you are with child and mustn’t travel. I do not know how long I shall be away from you, but already I grow weary of my journey and wish to be with you. We are one and the same, and therefore I know you mourn my departure as I do, but we mustn’t grieve over my brief excursion; our love is too great and noble to allow us to lament. Just as virtuous men pass on without grieving for their own souls, we mustn’t sigh or weep, or make any noise at all, for it would make our love a profanity.

Just as earthquakes are violent and troublesome, the movement of celestial bodies causes no fear or commotion; the separation of our heavenly love therefore needs not cause the commotion of an earthquake, or mirror the separation of more physical lovers. If we were earthly lovers, we would not be able to withstand this separation, because it would remove the only thing which supported our love, and that is our bodily contact. But alas, in our heightened devotion physicality means nothing.

My love, we are so close that our two souls are one, and though I travel so many hours from you, our bonds are not separated, but expanded, as if gold turned to leaf, untarnishable in its beauty. Oh I know you very well, and here you argue, perhaps simply to argue with your mischievous smile, that we are actually separate—well, if we are two, then we are two so as stiff twin compasses are two. Separate, yet joined, though you may lean and hearken after me, you always remain until I return. Though I must go and separate from you once more, the determination with which you keep steadfast keeps me stable. Without you my earth would cease to turn. Separate or as one, our love transcends that of earthly devotion. Mourn not my absence, and nor shall I.

Yours.

Too Human.

After completing Waiting for the Barbarians, a single word arises, and that is "graphic." Graphic not only in the conventional sense, but also to illustrate Coetzee's prodigious usage of imagery. As the story progresses, Coetzee's audience witnesses much through the eyes and mind of the Magistrate, the most shocking is that of the treatment of those "barbarians" (including the fish-people) by Joll and the rest of the umbrious Empire. Naturally, reactions to this gruesome imagery consist of disgust and perturbation for both the Magistrate and Coetzee's audience; however, there soon grows a distinct schism between the audience and the Magistrate, as his initial attitude gives way to something less clean.

In the opening passages of Waiting for the Barbarians, the Magistrate is a hero. This man represents all the moralistic rights that any idealistic person should support. Seemingly synchronized, the attitudes of Coetzee's audience match that of the Magistrate: the Magistrate's distaste for Joll is apparent, his anger at the treatment of both the two barbarians and the fishmen is shared, and his desire to relieve their pain is felt. As the novel progresses, however, the attitude of the Magistrate becomes less noble, the most ardent example of which is his growing dislike of the swamp people. As Waiting for the Barbarians progresses, the Magistrate's deteriorating morality causes much of the audience to chafe, the most vehement calling him a coward or a hypocrite; however, is the Magistrate's loss of his initial values truly the sign of a coward? Indeed, as seen by Coetzee's audience, the Magistrate's principles are soon lost to common annoyance and near hatred. This is not because the Magistrate is a fickle being or a cowardly figure, but because he is human. It is because Coetzee uses the Magistrate as his protagonist that the audience is imbues him with all of its values. Truthfully, there are very few cases where, in the face of such adversity as the Empire, one would be able to stand for what they believe if that is antithetical to Imperial mantras. To any and all, prolonged guests quickly become unwelcome, and that is precisely what drives the Magistrate to stray from his beliefs. Though one may support a specific group with all of his or her being, it is in the interest of self-preservation that he or she agree with the ruling party, especially if that party will quash any defiance. Truly, though the Magistrate may be weak or cowardly, does he have a choice? Perhaps his character is brought into question not because it is irrational or insincere, but because he is too human. Perhaps the readers of J.M. Coetzee's Waiting for the Barbarians do too much in giving the Magistrate that façade of perverse heroism. (457)

1902 Encyclopaedia Britannica

• Details the founding of the Congo Free State as per the efforts of King Leopold II of Belgium
• The General Act of February 1885 outlined regulations for all Powers that recognized the Congo as a free state
• Created freedom of trade and navigation, outlawed monopolies and slavery, provided provisions for "civilizing the natives," and protected missionaries, scientists, and explorers.
• Strangers and natives were to be treated "on a footing of perfect equality."
• Physical Features- Mountains, rivers, streams, jungle. The tributaries are the most important feature geographically an commercially. Climate changes nominally. Subject to torrential storms.
• "Europeans are subject to the usual tropical diseases, and the country is not suited for European colonization."
• Population and Size- 900,000 acres, 14-30 million natives. 254 Europeans by 1886. 744 Europeans by 1890. 1076 Europeans by 1895. 1958 Europeans by 1900.
• The Congo FreeState was an "absolute monarchy," ruled by King Leopold
• Natives were "pagans, fetish worshippers, and on a very low plane of civilization."
• 300 missionaries as of 1900.
• Exports- caoutchoue (rubber) and ivory. Minerals unkown.
• Agriculture is lacking, being no more than "small patches of land [cultivated] close to their villages."
• The "main Congo stream and its tributaries ... [are the Free State's] most powerful instrument in the development of its resources."

Signifying nothing

After reading section four, Faulkner's audience is necessarily convinced of the nihilistic properties of the Compson family; however, if the reader stops at differing positions in the text, the book can take on differing meanings.

If Shegog's sermon is considered the true end of The Sound and the Fury, then how does that influence the meaning of the volume?

If Jason's pursuit, and subsequent failure to catch Quentin is considered the end of the novel, how does that influence The Sound and the Fury?

Where else can the novel be terminated, and how would the truncation affect The Sound and the Fury?

The Nietzschean Sound and Fury

Marco Abel argues in "One Goal Is Still Lacking: The Influence of Friedrich Nietzsche's Philosophy on William Faulkner's The Sound and the Fury" that Faulkner's work is a work wrought of Nietzschean ideology. According to his essay, the most central characteristics of The Sound and the Fury are existentialism and nihilism; in this way, "all members of the Compson household are influenced by the meaninglessness of their lives or by the desire to overcome the nothingness that surrounds them." According to Nietzsche, nihilism is the anti-being, bringing about destruction. Nowhere is that more clear than in Faulkner's novel, in that the nihilistic tendencies of the Compson family bring about its ruin. Therefore, Abel argues validly that The Sound and the Fury is influenced by Nietzschean ideals.

• One Goal Is Still Lacking: The Influence of Friedrich Nietzsche's Philosophy on William Faulkner's "The Sound and the Fury"
• Author(s): Marco Abel
• Source: South Atlantic Review, Vol. 60, No. 4 (Nov., 1995), pp. 35-51
• Published by: South Atlantic Modern Language Association
• Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/3201235

The most confusing post

Throughout Part 2 of Faulkner's The Sound and the Fury, the audience is painfully aware of Quentin Compson's mental instabilities. Finally driven to his own methodical suicide, the deep-seated depression, which drives Quentin to "not be," is undoubtedly caused by his extant familial difficulties; that is, Father's causticly cynical nature, Mother's near-loathing, and Candace's ever-growing estrangement from the Compson household, among others, feeds Quentin's manic depressive tendencies. To what extent, and in what way do Quentin Compson's family members contribute to his psychological issues?

Furthermore, if Quentin's section is to be adequately analyzed, it is essential that that he be the center of intelligence. Consequently, Quentin becomes a figure of ethics, and he must be seen as morally cognizant, not simply neurotic. To this degree, if Caddy's dishonour is bound, in some way, to Quentin's inability to be fearless, remorseless, and unyielding, how does his failure effect his psyche?

Half-Blog!

As of yet, I have not been successful in my endeavors to find a short story that I would be able to truly write a 1500 word essay on. I had a plethora of obvious choices in my mind... until it was stated that the story had to have been published within the last 5 years. How depressing. At first, I desired to write of a Philip K. Dick story, or perhaps Poe. These authors, unwilling to have published their work since 2005 (how inconsiderate), were immediately out of the question. I began then to actively pursue the written work of some other author. Having previously purchased When You Are Engulfed in Flames, by David Sedaris, I have read through half the volume, but none of the stories have "spoken" to me. This nebulous concept having been unfulfilled, I had two books on my list that may have fit the bill: Overqualified, by Joey Comeau, and I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell, by Tucker Max. I wasn't able to find either of these books, in addition to the fact that a fellow classmate may have previously chosen the latter volume. Overqualified is an epistolary novel, in which the author has bound his cover letters for job applications, and I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell is a collection of hilarious and predominantly explicit anecdotes.

Succinctly, I have found nothing; thus, I need to find something damned fast.