A Modest Proposal

This was not my first encounter with A Modest Proposal, and I am always struck by the unique commentary it offers on historical circumstances. Especially considering the popularity of contemporary satire like The Daily Show and The Onion, it's interesting to consider its relevance both then and now. Swift's proposal of killing and eating babies effectively drew attention to an important social issue--the poverty in Ireland--and also influenced the entertainment we appreciate today.
It's especially interesting to consider Swift's own biography when reading A Modest Proposal. When I first read this piece, I did not realize Swift himself was born to a single Irish woman. This fact only emphasizes the obscurity of Swift's proposal, intensifying the ironic elements of the tale: in essence, Swift suggests that babies in situations similar to his own be executed for meals.

Eden in Oroonoko

Classic European portrayal, and especially accounts sent to Europe from the "New World," tends to present less-than-flattering images of native people. Terms like "savage," "primitive," and "barbarian" were often used, and natives were rarely treated as anything more than an animal. As the influence of a mercantile economy rose, countries--and thus their colonists--became increasingly gold-thirsty, often at the expense of the native population. Thus, in comparison to excerpts from explorer's journals, I was surprised by Behn's description of the natives in Oroonoko.
Behn's fascination with the apparent innocence of the Surinam people is apparent. Her description of the interaction between men and women, particularly the tone of modesty and respect held for each other, contradicts the barbaric tales of rape often told by the Conquistadors. Further, I was surprised to see biblical comparisons of what many people considered in actuality to be "heathens." Some who ventured to the West Indies went in the name of mission and conversion; Behn would hold that these efforts in fact blemished the culture of those who lived "as Adam and Eve did." Behn's statement that the native people live in "the first state of innocence, before man knew how to sin" serves as an ultimate commentary on the actions of the explorers of her time. It is not the natives who are evil, but rather the explorers that exploit their sacred land. 

British History

I suppose that's its a function of an American--and especially Virginian--upbringing, but I don't think I ever read a 17th century history that was not American (and certainly not British!) until tonight. Thus, the BABL introduction actually provided a fascinating summary of an era and culture that I had never been exposed to. It was hard for me to read it outside of a colonial context. However, I think this provided an internal and subconscious comparison for me as I read: I found myself searching for early clues that may have predicted the events of the Revolution through the evidence of history. For this reason, I found the section on Religion, Government, and Party Politics most appealing.
I was unaware that when Revolution began in America, England itself was not far out from a dispute of rightful power. Further, I was surprised to learn that as recently as only 100 years prior, England had been working proactively towards a more democratic government of its own in response to a monarchy to which they disagreed (BABL 1004). It seems to me that the conflict between William and Mary and James would have left a lasting impression on the British people: one that would be more tolerant and understanding of the colonists complaints against a monarchy.
However, it does seem that money can explain almost everything. As the section on Ethical Dilemmas in a Changing Nation states, "the eighteenth century [had] a sense of inevitability of progress" (1012). Following an era of such colonial and economic progress, Britain may have never dreamed of losing its American colonies (1001). In literary terms, it seems Britain's only shortcoming was its hubris, fueled by an era of prosperity under Prime Minister Walpole and his King, George III.

Contrast in Paradise Lost

As I read further through Paradise Lost, I am still haunted by the descriptions of Hell and Satan's "cheribum."Milton's use of contrast in his physical descriptions makes a place like Hell somehow more terrifying. The image of flames producing "no light; bur rather darkness visible" provides a truly nightmarish impression of Satan's dwelling (Milton 921). Not only is Hell an evil place, but completely antagonistic to heaven and earth. The idea of conflict, thus, forms the foundation of a backwards world aptly called "Chaos."
The contrast of Heaven and Hell also emphasizes the vengeance of Satan's purpose. The words Satan himself associates with Heaven--"delight, "Eternal Justice"--bare starkly against the depths of Hell. Additionally, Satan's statement, "Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heav'n" is sheds terrifying light on the ruthlessness of his endeavor (924). That he feels no remorse or regret for his situation or consequences leaves the reader hesitant to discover what he has in store next.

Love's Prison

It's not unusual to find love's companion is ironically misery. People "fall" in love--an action that typically ends in an abrupt end, and often pain. Cupid's piercing arrow serves as an instrument of love. Lady Mary Wroth seems able to address the pleasures of love only by identifying its pains. Pamphilia to Amphilianthus paints a unique picture of love. Love, to Wroth, seems to pull her down like an undertow. Although she wishes to resist its appeal, she is overpowered by emotions and drawn deeper into it. Indeed, in Sonnet 7, she compares the struggle of love to a shipwreck: "The more she strives, more deep in sand is presses/Till she be lost" (lines 7-8). The weakness she feels against love is heartbreaking in itself. She is not happy to be in love, but rather feels she has merely surrendered--she is simply "servile" (Sont 14, line 10).

Even when Worth can address the joys of love, she describes them as embodied in "some happy fire" (Sonnet 15, line 7). Thus, even the pleasures she can accept from love are ultimately scarring. Further, because "Desire shall quench love's flames" it can be said that Worth feels guilt from the pleasures of love (Sonnet 14, line 12). The parallels in these lines draws the conclusion that the only joys of love are lustful and earthly. To Worth, love imprisons man to satisfy only his earthly, sinful desires; it serves to  blind him from "liberty" to pursuit higher truth.

Lear Losing Touch

Act 4 Scene 6 portrays a mentally decrepit and feeble Lear. Cordelia, whose honesty--or as Lear may claim, insolence--seems to have ignited his cognitive downfall, ultimately becomes the one to pull him back to a sort of reality. Aging is a difficult process, and in this scene, Cordelia becomes a sort of caretaker for her delusional father. Thus, the traditional roles of father and daughter are switched. Lear seeks reassurance in Cordelia, despite his inability to recognize her. Also, while Cordelia seeks forgiveness, Lear maintains a grudge.
Yet, this is a more gentle Lear. Rather than showing manic wrath, he seems regretful of the actions he may have taken to cause his daughters to have "done [him] wrong" (IV.vii.79). As the gentleman explains, "the great rage, you see, is killed in him" (IV.vii.85-86). The calmness in Lear is somewhat haunting; this seems to be the final stages of his insanity. As his mental capacity slips, his rage may have departed, but his reason remains in question.

Questions Regarding Literary Style

Going through King Lear, I am mainly drawn to questions regarding the literary style of the play. Earlier in the course, we defined humanism as the influence of classical pieces on Elizabethan Renaissance literature. In this sense, the "pagan" references of King Lear are expected, and understandably familiar to Shakespeare's audience. I, however, was surprised to note the influence of Geoffery of Monmouth's Historia regum Britanniae. In a time when playwrights and authors were attempting to move away from the medieval literature, Shakespeare called upon it for inspiration for what would be one of his most successful plays. I am interested in what his audience's response must have been to this source--were they familiar with Geoffery's work? I also would like to see a translation of the piece by which Shakespeare was inspired for comparison. While Shakespeare widdled and reinvented the English language, it seems counter-intuitive for him to rely on the language's past. This sort of inspiration draws a whole new definition of humanism.

The idea of the folio versus the quarto is also intriguing to me, and also raises questions to the authenticity of a number of Shakespeare's plays. It is reassuring to think that the influence of his actors is minimal, but what sorts of historical references do scholars have when deciding which version is more "accurate." It also seems counterproductive to consider both at the same time. Perhaps it's my generation's obsession with a perfect and instant answer, but I would be more comfortable if a more "authentic" version could be specifically identified.