Ethan seems the play-thing of a manipulative and cruel destiny or fate. Upon his first appearance, he is depicted as prisoner of a "lameness checking each step like the jerk of a chain"(Signet Classic, Shreve introduction (2000), p.3). Destiny is again evoked when the narrator recalls standing beside Frome at the post office, where they "waited on the motions of the distributing hand behind the grating"(p.4). He is also painted as a heroic, Promethean figure, at least initially; the narrator wonders "how gallantly his lean brown head ... must have sat on his strong shoulders before they were bent out of shape"(p.5) and describes his "brown seamed profile, under the helmet-like peak of the cap, relieved against the banks of snow like the bronze image of a hero"(13).
Ethan's battle is against a host of allied forces: sickness, death, winter, but mostly a blind and cruel fate that seems only driven by circumstance. All of these forces work against romance, love, warmth, prosperity; anything remotely resembling well-being. The narrator imagines him as living in a "depth of moral isolation to remote for casual access."(13) Moral isolation is an interesting if ambiguous term. It implies that he lives apart from society and its conceptions of right and wrong. Moral is also defined as: "of, pertaining to, or acting on the mind, feelings, will, or character"(http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/moral). Taken this way, Frome seems a character whose will and being is forever removed from possible influence, positive or negative. He lives without moral support. This is in keeping with Wharton's depiction of him as existing in a state of living death.
Frome is thematically simple: this is the meeting of life and death. It's message is bleak: death conquers all. Yet, there is complexity here via the character of Frome. His soul seems capable of change. In part, the tale in Frome perversely inverts many of the elements of the Orpheus and Euridice story. Like Euridice, Frome seems a character consigned to the underworld who is given a deliverer. Zeena is a monstrous and malevolent force. She is often spoken of as almost a force of nature. When Mattie suggests she thought Ethan might not pick her up, Ethan asks incredulous, "What on earth could stop me?" Mattie replies, "I knew Zeena wasn't feeling any too good today"(p.39).
Yet, there is something morbid about Frome himself. His touch seems deadly. Worse, he seems death without meaning or purpose. Zeena seems the personification of death as a malevolent and scheming enemy. Ethan seems a personification of death as a mysterious ,brute and dumb force. It is drawn to life, is attracted, but can't help killing it when it comes into contact with it. Worse, Ethan doesn't kill precisely. Frome doesn't deliver death to all he touches. Instead, he deals a death-in-life, evoking ancient conceptions of life in the underworld.
In her introduction, Wharton suggests her characters lack an interiority, or at least an articulated one. She describes them as "rudimentary characters" and opposes their minds to "the more complicated minds"(xv)reading about them. She views them as "granite outcroppings ; but half-emerged from the soil, and scarcely more articulate"(xiv). She mentinos discarding the idea of having a single village gossip relate the tale in favor of multiple tellers so as to achieve a "roundedness." Such comments suggests Wharton intended to present her characters from the outside and from a distance.
Yet, at least with Ethan, we do journey into his thoughts and feelings as he thinks and feels them, or at least as envisioned by the narrator. Ethan is certainly presented as more than a granite outcropping. Ethan is "more sensitive than the people about him to the appeal of natural beauty"(29); his studies had "made him aware of huge cloudy meanings behind the daily face of things"(24). He's not articulate. Wharton implies that, until Mattie's arrival, he's never had a person with whom to share and thus articulate his impressions. Their early attempts to express their feelings in the face of nature are almost comically crude. Responding to a beautiful nature setting(ornately rendered in words by Wharton; this doesn't seem an instance of free, indirect speech), Mattie exclaims, "'It looks just as if it was painted' [and] it seemed to Ethan that the art of definition could go no farther"
We are given precise witness to the emotion Ethan can't express in outward words to others. Sometimes, it is Wharton who words his emotions, as when his rage at Zeena grows almost volcanic: "She was no longer the listless creature who had lived at his side in a state of sullen self-absorption, but a mysterious alien presence, an evil energy secreted from the long years of silent brooding"(103). However, at other points, it seems Ethan's emotions in his own words, as when he contemplates running off with Mattie.: "He was too young, too strong, too full of the sap of living, to submit so easily to the destruction of his hopes. Must he wear out all his years at the side of a bitter, querulous woman"(113).
While she does drop down into Ethan's thoughts, Wharton's tale is primarily achieved through a remarkably compact set of scenes from ordinarly life. For the most part,she sticks to surface of the lives of her characters. Ethan Frome might be rendered as a series of paintings, or moving tableaus. I sense that Wharton aimed to create a story without much in the way of comment, from either the narrator or the characters. A tale that spoke through actions and movements, like a ballet.
The characters have signature gestures. Mattie is typically moving uphill or stairs, either with Ethan or in front of him. Ethan is generally holding Mattie tight, or reaching for her. He is also on the road a great deal, indicating a homeless quality. Zeena appears in doorways, in front of windows, and finally, her face "thrusts itself between him and his goal" when he and Mattie toboggan to their wished-for death.
Reading her introduction, the story's frames, I sense that Wharton may have thought about or wished to more simply 'report' her story but couldn't see her way to doing so. It would be intriguing to imagine the middle of Frome rendered as a report of a relatively word-less evening spent at the Frome's, with the underlying story and tragedy revealed by objects, small arrangements, casual gestures and limited conversation.
On one level, the story reads as an instance of tragic fate, rendering moral comment superfluous. On another level, Wharton tells a story that continually highlights choices and decisions. Although he has a strong conscience, Ethan lacks moral integrity. He engages in petty lies and deceptions with Zeena. In contemplating running off with Mattie, he sees the wrong he'd do but ultimately appears stymied by practical considerations. He doesn't have enough money to get out of town.
Worse, Frome seems a tale where a little sin might have prevented a bigger sin. Out of pride and moral consideration,Ethan is never able to simply act for his happiness. His failure to do so leaves him in a horrible situations which prompts him to join Mattie in attempting a terribly immoral action, suicide, which in its failure produces enormous hurt for all.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Three and one: Robert Alter's translation of Genesis Chapters 18
God makes himself present to Abraham in various ways. Initially, the precise nature of His manifestation to Abram is vague. Chapter 12 opens "And the Lord said to Abram". Later, after Abram enters Canaan, the Lord not only speaks but appears. In 12:7, the text reads: "the Lord appeared to Abram and said". Yet, the text does not specify this appearance. In 13, the Lord again comes to Abram, but in this instance we can only be certain of his making himself heard. However, His encounter with Abram in 13 is clearly set in a physical space that the Lord interacts with. God directs Abram to look in all directions. Furthermore, the Lord directs Abram to "walk about the land." According to Alter, this is "a common legal ritual in the ancient Near East"(n. and v. 13:17) and God's using it gives him a human dimension that is lacking in the previous encounters. One might argue that God's use of a phrase and practice so culturally specific suggests the extent to which the encounter is a creation of Abram's imagination. Shouldn't God surprise in all ways? Then again, the speech and practice he employs might simply reflect the fact that God must come to man in an understandable and approachable form. In 15, "the word of the Lord came to Abram in a vision"(15:1), a machazeh, or, according to Strong's, a "vision (in the ecstatic state)". This is at once a more and a less concrete manifestation. On the one hand, it is not the Lord,but the word of the Lord that comes. That particular phrase seems distancing. However, he does come as more than a voice. Further on, He takes Abram outside and tells him to look at the stars. Yet, throughout this encounter, the text does not indicate that God is manifest as more that might possibly only be present to Abram, or as phenomenon of his mind. In the second divine encounter in 15, He is more manifest and tangible. In this episode, He moves between the sacrifice with a smoking censer. In 17, the Lord "appeared" and "spoke" but his manifestation is rather bodiless. He does ascend at the end (17:22), implying a body that is never specified.
God's appearance in 18 stands out in the specificity of his manifestation. He and his cohorts appear in human shapes. Or, depending, one might say He appears as three men. The shifting use of pronouns and verb tenses points to the confusion surrounding this manifestation; commenting on verse 3, Alter writes, "the Masoretic Text vocalizes [Abram's initial address]...to read 'my lords,' in consonance with the appearance of three visitors. But the vocative terms that follow in this verse are in the singular, and it is only in verse 4 that Abraham switches to plural verbs." Alter speculates that this opening might be the product of two different sources, one testifying to there being one guest with the other depicting three guests. Ultimately, there is some confusion, on a reader's part (and perhaps Abraham's) whether God is one of the three or all three of the guests.
It isn't out of the realm to suggest that Abraham may not initially view his visitors as divine. Having never directly identified themselves as such, the leader hints at it by indicating that, while ostensibly a stranger Abram can't recognize, he nevertheless knows the name of Abram's wife.
The ensuing scene where the visitor promises that "a son shall Sarah your wife have" is poignant and charming. Sarah has been listening at the tent flap; she is like her husband a doer, not content to sit submissively by. God exerts and demonstrates his power to her though, by revealing in a misogynistic way her eavesdropping and her laughter to her husband. Sarah is definitely afraid; like Eve, she believes she can hide from and outsmart the Lord. She first denies she laughed. God insists she did, getting the last word in a comical he-said, she-said exchange. The annunciation of Isaac is delivered in both 17 and 18 to Abram. This differs from the Jacob/Esau annunciations, one to Isaac and another to Rebekah (25:21-22).
The annunciation scene in 18 has parallels to the latter half of Abram's encounter with El Shaddai in 17. In both, God explicitly promises Abram a son through Sarah. In both, he promises that Sarah will bear the child during the same season as the one at which he promises: in 17 "by this season next year (17:22) and in 18 (v.10) "at this very season". In both, the news is met by laughter, Abram's in 17 and Sarah's in 18. These parallels might suggest the redactor has placed versions of the same story side by side in the text.
Yet, if the initial encounter in 18 (v.1-15) are another version of the latter portion of the encounter in 17, they are still clearly attached to the remainder of 18. The events related in Chapter 18 are connected and there is a narrative and thematic integrity to 18. Clearly, a shift occurs, a narrative pivot: the first half is an annunciation and the second half involves God and Abram's discussion of Sodom and Gomorrah. I find the abruptness of the shift startling. After all, God has promised Abram a son through Sarah, his heart's desire, but the text makes absolutely no mention of Abram's response. Instead, after the annunciation, God's back and forth with Sarah, the text moves on with the men. They "arose from there and looked out over Sodom, Abram walking along with them to see them off"(17).
What follows is another of those instances in Genesis where God is seen not only in a human manifestation in terms of appearance, but in terms of his behavior. He seems to be debating with himself whether he should tell Abram about Sodom. Perhaps the debate is occasioned by his just concluded encounter with Sarah and the lack of understanding and doubt with which she greeted the announcement of his will. In deciding on revelation, God reveals an ethical aspect to his covenant with Abram that has heretofore not been mentioned.
In 19, God says "For I have embraced him so that he will charge his sons and his household after him to keep the way of the Lord to do righteousness and justice, that the Lord may bring upon Abraham all that He spoke concerning him." This indicates that the Lord has made himself known to Abram so that Abram knows of the will of the Lord and that Abram, as a man, would be unable to do so absent of this directly supplied knowledge? It also suggests that if Abram fails to know and act according to God's will, according to righteousness and justice, the Lord will not bring about "all that He spoke concerning him." The language employed in many translation suggests that if Abram and his sons fail to do justice, the Lord can't bring about justice.
God's exchange with Abram on Sodom and Gomorrah reads like a tutorial on divine justice, or maybe better, an exercise undergone to acquaint Abram with certain characteristics of the power with whom he's covenanted. The opening seems a performative gesture. If read as a straight up act of the Lord, He would appear to be acting in a human way and uncertain as to just what is happening in Sodom and Gomorrah. One presumes he does know, yet God says "'The outcry of Sodom and Gomorrah, how great!...Let Me go down and see whether as the outcry that has come to me they have dealt destruction, and if not, I shall know." Performing in this fashion, he clearly wishes to demonstrate to Abram that he operates according to justice; folks are punished and rewarded for reasons. Moreover, God shows himself getting to the truth of the matter.
Alter sees what follows as "a bargaining exchange"(n.27,p.82). Perhaps it is and Abraham is bargaining to save his nephew Lot. Yet, Abraham stops at ten. Alter informs Abraham "dare not go any lower than ten, the minimal administrative unit for communal organization in later Israelite life," but also points out that Lot and his family number less than ten. So, I'm confused as to what he would be bargaining for in the exchange. But, there is a back and forth and Abraham is acting as mediator here, prefiguring Moses. In the event, God does spare Lot and his family, but he does so for reasons other than justice. In nineteen, the messenger is eventually forced to grab a reluctant Lot by the hand and lead him outside the city. This is done "in the Lord's compassion for him"(19:16). Some lines on in nineteen, the text reads, "when God destroyed the cities of the plain...God remembered Abraham and sent Lot out of the upheaval as the cities ...were overthrown"(19:29). Unless standards have changed dramatically, Lot hardly seems a righteous figure.
God's appearance in 18 stands out in the specificity of his manifestation. He and his cohorts appear in human shapes. Or, depending, one might say He appears as three men. The shifting use of pronouns and verb tenses points to the confusion surrounding this manifestation; commenting on verse 3, Alter writes, "the Masoretic Text vocalizes [Abram's initial address]...to read 'my lords,' in consonance with the appearance of three visitors. But the vocative terms that follow in this verse are in the singular, and it is only in verse 4 that Abraham switches to plural verbs." Alter speculates that this opening might be the product of two different sources, one testifying to there being one guest with the other depicting three guests. Ultimately, there is some confusion, on a reader's part (and perhaps Abraham's) whether God is one of the three or all three of the guests.
It isn't out of the realm to suggest that Abraham may not initially view his visitors as divine. Having never directly identified themselves as such, the leader hints at it by indicating that, while ostensibly a stranger Abram can't recognize, he nevertheless knows the name of Abram's wife.
The ensuing scene where the visitor promises that "a son shall Sarah your wife have" is poignant and charming. Sarah has been listening at the tent flap; she is like her husband a doer, not content to sit submissively by. God exerts and demonstrates his power to her though, by revealing in a misogynistic way her eavesdropping and her laughter to her husband. Sarah is definitely afraid; like Eve, she believes she can hide from and outsmart the Lord. She first denies she laughed. God insists she did, getting the last word in a comical he-said, she-said exchange. The annunciation of Isaac is delivered in both 17 and 18 to Abram. This differs from the Jacob/Esau annunciations, one to Isaac and another to Rebekah (25:21-22).
The annunciation scene in 18 has parallels to the latter half of Abram's encounter with El Shaddai in 17. In both, God explicitly promises Abram a son through Sarah. In both, he promises that Sarah will bear the child during the same season as the one at which he promises: in 17 "by this season next year (17:22) and in 18 (v.10) "at this very season". In both, the news is met by laughter, Abram's in 17 and Sarah's in 18. These parallels might suggest the redactor has placed versions of the same story side by side in the text.
Yet, if the initial encounter in 18 (v.1-15) are another version of the latter portion of the encounter in 17, they are still clearly attached to the remainder of 18. The events related in Chapter 18 are connected and there is a narrative and thematic integrity to 18. Clearly, a shift occurs, a narrative pivot: the first half is an annunciation and the second half involves God and Abram's discussion of Sodom and Gomorrah. I find the abruptness of the shift startling. After all, God has promised Abram a son through Sarah, his heart's desire, but the text makes absolutely no mention of Abram's response. Instead, after the annunciation, God's back and forth with Sarah, the text moves on with the men. They "arose from there and looked out over Sodom, Abram walking along with them to see them off"(17).
What follows is another of those instances in Genesis where God is seen not only in a human manifestation in terms of appearance, but in terms of his behavior. He seems to be debating with himself whether he should tell Abram about Sodom. Perhaps the debate is occasioned by his just concluded encounter with Sarah and the lack of understanding and doubt with which she greeted the announcement of his will. In deciding on revelation, God reveals an ethical aspect to his covenant with Abram that has heretofore not been mentioned.
In 19, God says "For I have embraced him so that he will charge his sons and his household after him to keep the way of the Lord to do righteousness and justice, that the Lord may bring upon Abraham all that He spoke concerning him." This indicates that the Lord has made himself known to Abram so that Abram knows of the will of the Lord and that Abram, as a man, would be unable to do so absent of this directly supplied knowledge? It also suggests that if Abram fails to know and act according to God's will, according to righteousness and justice, the Lord will not bring about "all that He spoke concerning him." The language employed in many translation suggests that if Abram and his sons fail to do justice, the Lord can't bring about justice.
God's exchange with Abram on Sodom and Gomorrah reads like a tutorial on divine justice, or maybe better, an exercise undergone to acquaint Abram with certain characteristics of the power with whom he's covenanted. The opening seems a performative gesture. If read as a straight up act of the Lord, He would appear to be acting in a human way and uncertain as to just what is happening in Sodom and Gomorrah. One presumes he does know, yet God says "'The outcry of Sodom and Gomorrah, how great!...Let Me go down and see whether as the outcry that has come to me they have dealt destruction, and if not, I shall know." Performing in this fashion, he clearly wishes to demonstrate to Abram that he operates according to justice; folks are punished and rewarded for reasons. Moreover, God shows himself getting to the truth of the matter.
Alter sees what follows as "a bargaining exchange"(n.27,p.82). Perhaps it is and Abraham is bargaining to save his nephew Lot. Yet, Abraham stops at ten. Alter informs Abraham "dare not go any lower than ten, the minimal administrative unit for communal organization in later Israelite life," but also points out that Lot and his family number less than ten. So, I'm confused as to what he would be bargaining for in the exchange. But, there is a back and forth and Abraham is acting as mediator here, prefiguring Moses. In the event, God does spare Lot and his family, but he does so for reasons other than justice. In nineteen, the messenger is eventually forced to grab a reluctant Lot by the hand and lead him outside the city. This is done "in the Lord's compassion for him"(19:16). Some lines on in nineteen, the text reads, "when God destroyed the cities of the plain...God remembered Abraham and sent Lot out of the upheaval as the cities ...were overthrown"(19:29). Unless standards have changed dramatically, Lot hardly seems a righteous figure.
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