Sunday, December 18, 2016

Tracking Down Maturity

What does Louise Erdrich have to say about maturity in her book Tracks?

Author Louise Erdrich presents a unique view on maturity when considered in light of the other three books discussed. East of Eden, Oedipus Rex, and King Lear are all similar in that each of these novels carries the perspective of a white culture, whereas Erdrich’s Tracks is written from a Native American perspective. When I first started this novel, I was excited to see what awaited me. Would her illustrations of maturity be different from those of the other two authors? Does Native America see maturity in a different light than predominantly White cultures? And what similarities would there be between the four? What about maturity is universal?
Well, I was not met with disappointment. Erdrich paints a complex view of maturity in her novel Tracks, which tells the story of a Native American tribe that is being taken over by white people. Specifically, it is the story of the Anishinabe tribe told by two members of that tribe: Nanapush; an older member of the tribe and grandfather to Lulu (who he tells the story to), and Pauline; a half-Canadian Native American who detests the culture which she was born into. Through these two characters, the reader witnesses firsthand the pain, conflict, and struggle that comes when one’s way of life slowly fades, at the same time gaining a deeper insight into Native American culture and its values.
Erdrich seems to use Nanapush as a significant picture of what it looks like to be “mature” throughout her novel, especially in contrast to Pauline. The audience picks up on Pauline’s unreliability as a narrator from the very beginning, but Nanapush “was never one to take notice” of the gossip of those who “fattened in the shade” (9). Here, Nanapush is referencing town gossips- one of which is Pauline- and how he does heed anything they say as factual. The fact that Nanapush is completely indifferent to the drama and false stories of local gossipers- he does not even notice them- demonstrates a maturity and reliability to the reader, in that he does not exaggerate stories for selfish purposes. We can trust what he’s saying- he does not take notice enough to make them up. Pauline however depends heavily on the opinions of people, and is known to “improve the truth”, as Nanapush says at one point in the book. This parallel of the two narrators is significant. Maturity includes a security enough in one’s self, that he does not rely upon the opinions or attention of others to uphold his identity. Nanpush criticizes his son-in-law who struggles with a wrong act he committed: “that’s all you think about! You!” (99). Nanapush is not phased when Eli confesses his unfaithfulness to his wife, and is irritated when Eli spends so much time in self-pity and hatred. Maturity is trustworthy, accountable, and authentic, just as Nanapush demonstrated through his narrations. It also has the depth of vision to see one’s wrongdoings in their full weight, without becoming absorbed in them. Maturity sees a situation for what it is and takes action, which Nanapush urges Eli to do.
Not only is maturity reliable-- it also stands for something. Nanapush always has an opinion and knows where he stands, regardless of whether his opinion is more right or more wrong than another’s in the reader’s eyes. Nanapush has convictions, and he backs them up in action. This is a significant message to the audience that mature people stand for something. They have opinions about subjects that matter, and their opinions are realistic and stem from more than emotion. Nanapush comments that “a strong heart moves slowly” (102). Strength of heart to me demonstrates maturity, and his comment about “moving slowly” is fascinating, because it goes completely against human nature. When we feel something, we want to act on it: immediately. Nanapush urges that a strong heart waits- it takes its time- to sift through the emotions and the truth of the situation, so that a foundation may build for a real conviction. Maturity is reliable, authentic, truthful, and has a strength to it. It is not formless, but rather, it stands for something. Something well-thought out.
As Erdrich paints her pictures of maturity, one thing she demonstrates more than the other authors is the inherent imperfections within people. Nanapush is undoubtedly the most mature character. He demonstrates reliability, wisdom, has more life experience than any other character, and yet the audience views him in his full humanity. Nanapush lusts for women, acts out of carnal desire at times, is inconsiderate, and demonstrates many more actions that are not so impressive. He admits it too. When reflecting on the entire situation- how the white people attained power over the Anishinabe tribe and how much of the culture was lost- he admits “I should have tried to grasp this new way of wielding influence, this method of leading others with a pen and paper” (210). So stuck in his traditions, Nanapush refused to sign contracts or protest through petitions on pen and paper, because pen and paper are more a part of White culture than the Native American tribe at this point.  He stood for something. Mature. And when looking back, he saw how he could have handled the situation better, how he was not so right as he thought. Mature. Maturity accepts his own faults, and does not expect perfection from others. Maturity is constantly exercising and growing, and does not pretend to be perfect and complete. Erdrich introduces a deep and complex truth: maturity includes inherent brokenness. Because people are broken. But although it is broken, that does not mean it is not powerful. Maturity is needed in this world, and those in his tribe needed it in Nanapush, who many looked to for counsel.

Wednesday, November 23, 2016

Sight Without Eyes

What is William Shakespeare's take on maturity in King Lear?

In his novel King Lear, William Shakespeare reiterates his depictions of maturity in Oedipus Rex-- then takes it one step further. In Oedipus Rex, Shakespeare illustrates through the story of Oedipus (a man destined to marry his mother and kill his father) that maturity entreats an acknowledgement of reality, although that reality may be brutal. In Oedipus's case, it was. King Lear advocates a similar message, which Shakespeare conveys through the characters Lear and Gloucester, and their journeys to seeing reality as it really is. King Lear banishes his daughter Cordelia after she refuses to publicly profess her love for him, and in doing so, ignores the only daughter who truly loves and respects him. Over and over, Shakespeare declares King Lear to be "mainly ignorant" (4.7.74), using similar terms to emphasize just how "old and foolish" the King is for what he did to Cordelia (4.7.98-99). Since foolishness directly contradicts maturity, we know that the author is sending a message about what maturity looks like through Lear's actions. Shakespeare claims Lear as "foolish", for desiring the "glib and oily art" of public affirmation from his daughters (1.1.258), at the expense of sincerity. He banished Cordelia for refusing to compete with her sisters in praise of their father, although the sisters' adoring words were not authentic. Regardless of Lear's exact motives, they were foolish and inherently selfish, and Shakespeare is clear to point that out. Based on this passage and Shakespeare's descriptions, the reader can conclude certain truths about maturity. Maturity sees through falsehoods, upholds truth, and values truth above self-want. 
Similarly to his King, the character Gloucester also banishes a child who does not deserve it. Gloucester believes the lies of his "loyal and natural" son Edmund (2.1.98), who deceitfully leads his father to believe that his brother is a "strange and fastened villain"(2.1.98). Edmund gives Gloucester false information, and out of pride, anger, and an "old heart" that is "cracked" (2.1.106), Gloucester banishes his other son. Only when both of Gloucester's eyes are gouged out, does he see the tragedy of his "follies" in believing Edmund's lies (3.7.111). Gloucester later makes the ironic remark: "I stumbled when I saw" (4.1.20)---
Meditate on that one for a second. "I stumbled when I saw." 
Both King Lear and the nobleman Gloucester, in their high and comfortable societal positions, were deceived, manipulated, and unwise. However, when the King vanquished his power to his insincere daughters and was thence treated as a worthless madman, and Gloucester's eyes were gouged out, they both were able to see reality in a way that they never did before. Shakespeare's message here about foolishness and maturity is scandalous. Shakespeare deliberately paints this picture where "the madmen lead the blind" (4.1.54): an idea that seems uncomfortable, unnatural, and backwards according to society. Shakespeare himself called it "time's plague" (4.1.54), yet what he is insinuating holds deep truth to it. People, by nature, are foolish. Oftentimes, those who are the most comfortable in society- who are rarely challenged, who experience little hardship- see the least. They are blind to those truths that adversity brings about. King Lear affirms this idea later when, stranded in a storm with little clothing (a situation a poor person would likely find himself in at some time), he determines to "feel what wretches feel" (3.4.39), for he had "ta'en too little care of this" (3.4.37-38). By that last line, Lear admits to some deep self-reflection as the leader of a country, in that he did not pay enough attention to those whose needs he did not notice. 
Oftentimes, until we are in our lowest places, do we come to full humility. As Shakespeare said, "neither wise men nor fools" are greater than the elements of a storm (3.2.15), or even the elements of their own humanity that lead them to stumble. In our pride, we fall, just as King Lear and Gloucester fell both position-wise and as fathers. It takes real maturity to admit to our own mistakes, and especially our own eternal propensity to make them. Maturity means acknowledging our own shortcomings, and living in that kind of humility. That is real leadership. 
In King Lear, not only does Shakespeare reemphasize the importance of acknowledging truth within the world and ourselves; he admits that sometimes we are blind to these truths, and we can do nothing about it. This seems like a paradox, as Shakespeare challenges us to see and then tells us that we cannot always, yet his theory really works in fluid relationship. We must live in humble acknowledgment that we are blind creatures, and then and only then, are we able to start to see. Maturity entreats both sight and humility, and the two work together as essential elements of growth. 

Sunday, October 9, 2016

Maturity Lies East of Eden

What does John Steinbeck have to say about maturity? 

John Steinbeck in East of Eden reveals through his characters that maturity requires an admission of the truth, no matter how ugly. East of Eden tells the story of humanity’s ancient battle with good and evil through the generations of a family, whose members continually grapple with the nuance of themselves and of the world around them. These complexities are made possible by the never-ending clash between good and evil that confronts each character; who must choose how he responds to it. Steinbeck ultimately illustrates that in order to grow, a person must address the truth that both good and evil exist within the world and within people, else they will live in an eternal chosen ignorance.
In order to fully present this idea of truth working in partnership with growth, Steinbeck presents a character who grows in age but not in wisdom, due to his aversion to reality. Aron Trask seems mature in his commitment to the church and college, yet lives his entire life in denial of the truth that his mother is a prostitute, and his father a liar. Aron "couldn't stand to know about his mother because that's not how he wanted the story to go" (Steinbeck, 576), and his inability to grapple with this reality leads him to deny later ones. The girl who Aron loved- Abra- feels unseen by Aron, who "made someone up, and it's like he put my skin on her" (493). She explains further, saying that Aron's projected girl is "nothing but pure- never a bad thing" and "I'm not like that" (493). For a long time, Abra struggles against the false image that Aron has created of her, until Abra's mentor pinpoints that "nobody is (solely pure)" (493). When Abra's mentor clarifies that truth about humanity, that no one is only one side, Abra is able to identify that even as an adult, "Aron never grew up" (575). She clarifies that "when we were children we lived in a story that we made up" until one grows up, and "the story wasn't enough... because the story wasn't true anymore" (575). Real maturity requires an admission of the truth. The truth that people are more complex than just good or just evil, and that the world is that way too.
Aron "wouldn't have any other story" (576), and because of this choice, he saw only a part of reality.
"It's worse, but it's much better too", to discover that the world is different than one always perceived. It takes real guts to grow from being a child, for maturity is an uncomfortable process. Yet it is that great battle between good and evil that spurs freedom. If people were only black or white- if the world was only black or white- then all would be enslaved to their innate makeup. There would be no risk, and no responsibility to "carry a man's greatness if he wanted to take advantage of it" (520).

Monday, September 5, 2016

The Truth About Oedipus

What does maturity look like in Oedipus Rex? 


Remember that one man who killed his dad and married his mom? Oh yeah, that guy... rough...
We all recognize the infamous story of Oedipus Rex. Doomed to murder his father and marry his mother, Oedipus proves the futility of attempting to outrun fate. While the story undoubtedly explores issues such as free will and human control, Sophocles' dramatic work also offers great insight into the process of human maturity. At first glance, it seems that Oedipus gains no ground. Not only does Oedipus fail to thwart his tragic fate despite honest efforts; he has multiple opportunities to confront and possibly escape the truth of his situation, and instead he continues "living blind" (Sophocles, 72). Although Oedipus was unsuccessful regarding his situation, Sophocles reveals through his character's transition from naive to aware that maturity has less to do with outward circumstance, and more to do with the recognition of reality. 
If maturity were simply a matter of adult decision-making, Oedipus has it down. After first learning of his proposed fate, Oedipus makes the difficult choice to leave his home and (adoptive) parents in order to save them all from their "now more desolate" future together (67). Each choice that Oedipus makes is made in earnest, yet the future ahead of him involves only tragedy. He still is a murderer and "in wedlock cursed" (66), yet Oedipus does not stay the same. The real growth lies in the revealing of reality. As Oedipus peels back the layers of truth and discovers who he really is in the midst of a desolate situation, he may be doing the most mature act possible. With utmost strength, Oedipus utters "let the storm burst... for nothing can make me other than I am" (59), and in this statement Sophocles suggests a profound truth about maturity. Sophisticated people confront reality, no matter how dark, no matter how difficult. They confront the reality of who they are, for nothing can make them other than they are, and they confront the reality of the world around them. Let the storm burst. Truth is the catalyst, and it takes maturity to acknowledge that it exists, but we must. What that truth may be, is another matter altogether...  



The Big Question

What does it mean to be mature?


No one wants to stay the same.
Okay, I'm sure most people would agree to always looking 25, but when it comes to matters of the soul, aging is a good thing. Aging is natural, and society rewards those who grow up to become successful and "mature." For my big question, I wanted to explore the idea of "maturity." What is it that ages our souls? To many, maturity takes different forms. It could be a loss of innocence, that a traumatic and strikingly "real" event brings about. Or is maturity simply a state of self-awareness? When one seems to understand who he is, does that make him mature? What is it that spurs inward growth, and what does that inward growth look like?
In modern culture, the assumption is that when a person seems to be on a stable path- emotionally, mentally, socially, financially- then they are leading mature lives. Many high school students who have experienced alcohol believe that their experience of that adult drink makes them more mature, compared to their innocent peers. In my life, I have seen myself mature through different experiences, such as Arapahoe's school shooting or Camp Barnabas. When I better understood the daily struggles of people with special needs, and saw a window into their courage and wisdom, there was a certain shift inside myself that lead to greater humility and an outward perspective. Through the different items of literature we will read in class, I plan to explore the maturity of characters based on how the protagonist changes throughout the story. What of life "matures" him, and what does that maturity look like?