Physical Movement in The Importance of Being Earnest

In many works of literature, a physical journey - the literal movement from one place to another - plays a central role. Choose a novel, play, or epic poem in which a physical journey is an important element and discuss how the journey adds to the meaning of the work as a whole. Avoid mere plot summary.

You MUST choose from the following list:

The Importance of Being Earnest

     Very few works have their characters simply remaining in one location throughout. That is, the main characters almost always have some form of journey as the plot progresses. One such work is Oscar Wilde's The Importance of Being Earnest. The two protagonists, Algernon and Jack, use their alter-egos to journey away from their respective homes, and Wilde uses these journeys as a means of criticizing the strict and overly moral air of the Victorian Era.
      Algernon Moncrieff, the nephew of the prim and stuffy Lady Bracknell, uses his imaginary, invalid friend "Bunbury" as a means of escaping London for the country, and thus the demands of society that come with the heart of the Victorian era. By coming up with various excuses about Bunbury's imminent death (and the subsequent miraculous recovery), so dubbed "Bunburying," Algernon is able to find respite from the society that his Aunt personifies. Algernon's journey to the country in act two represents not just one "transformation," but two, as he must use "Bunbury" to escape his Aunt, but "Ernest" to woo Jack's ward Cecily. Not only is Algernon journeying from London to Jack's estate in the country, but also into the life of Ernest. In opposition to the strict moral ideals of the time, Algernon seeks not to charm Cecily for status or wealth, but merely due to her youth and attractiveness. Likewise, Cecily falls for Algernon ("Ernest") solely because of his name. Such trivialities are used by Wilde to show how pretentious the marriage system in Victorian England was.
      Furthermore, Jack Worthing (the "original" Ernest) uses his trouble-making "brother" as a means of escaping the countryside for the city. With each journey, he, in effect, becomes Ernest, a fact that he exploits when attempting to curry favor with Algernon's cousin Gwendolen. Like Algernon, the journey is what in turn causes Jack to "become" Ernest, although Cecily believes Ernest to her guardian's carefree brother, and thus accepts Algernon blindly as Ernest. Though Jack, in returning to the countryside, "kills" Ernest, he actually only aids to open the deception, as Gwendolen and Cecily find out for themselves. As with Algernon, Jack's object of affections is only attracted to his name, and thus Jack must pretend to be Ernest (again, through this journey) in order to remain with Gwendolen.
      Altogether, both Jack and Algernon's journeys (and the deceptions that these journeys create) serve to give the work overall a farcical air about it. Wilde's use of such absurdity reveals his intentions for penning Earnest. That is, Wilde intended to highlight the ridiculous aspects of Victorian society. The men's respective adoptions of the Ernest moniker in order to satisfy Cecily and Gwendolen (who are themselves only attracted to the name) is so remarkably inane that it paints a stark picture of the similar (albeit not quite as exaggerated) standards of propriety at the time. Likewise, Jack and Algernon's desires to escape their homes (Jack to the city and Algernon to the country) reveal how suffocating their society is. The two must change their surroundings, each adopting a fake persona to do so. Wilde's criticisms of the Victorian era are quite apparent with the journeys the two undertake, and his witty satire is still felt today.

"Fear No More" by William Shakespeare

"Fear no more the heat o' the sun; 
Nor the furious winter's rages, 
Thou thy worldly task hast done, 
Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages; 
Golden lads and girls all must, 
As chimney sweepers come to dust. 

Fear no more the frown of the great, 
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke: 
Care no more to clothe and eat; 
To thee the reed is as the oak: 
The sceptre, learning, physic, must 
All follow this, and come to dust. 

Fear no more the lightning-flash, 
Nor the all-dread thunder-stone; 
Fear not slander, censure rash; 
Thou hast finished joy and moan; 
All lovers young, all lovers must 
Consign to thee, and come to dust."

(Found on page 402.)

Shakespeare, in this poem (which is an excerpt from Cymbeline), uses a number of literary devices. The most prevalent of these is the repetition of "must" and "return to dust." Such repetition shows the inevitability of death. Furthermore, "fear no more" (and similar phrases) is also repeated, pointing out that death is a reprieve from the dangers of life. Additionally, the dust motif that Shakespeare uses may be a reference to Genesis 3:19, which states, "Dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return" This reinforces the idea of the unstoppable nature of death. Together, the repetition and allusion in this rather short poem serve as a source of comfort for those who fear death.

While I have not read Cymbeline, I do feel accurate in my interpretation of the poem. First and foremost, it makes clear the inevitability of death. As stated, the repetition of "return to dust" makes this obvious. It may seem that the speakers are bemoaning the fact that all will eventually die. However, the rest of the poem reveals that they feel just the opposite. The dead, they state, do not have to fear the summer or the winter, lightning or thunder, or oppression. They do not have to worry about necessities such as eating or getting dressed, and they are safe from being hurt by others. Shakespeare not only ensures readers that death is not to be feared, but in a way actually welcomes death as relief from the troubles of life. Though seemingly somewhat macabre, in reality, the poem is strangely beautiful. 

"War is Kind" by Stephen Crane

"Do not weep, maiden, for war is kind. 

Because your lover threw wild hands toward the sky 
And the affrighted steed ran on alone, 
Do not weep. 
War is kind. 

Hoarse, booming drums of the regiment, 
Little souls who thirst for fight, 
These men were born to drill and die. 
The unexplained glory flies above them, 
Great is the battle-god, great, and his kingdom -- 
A field where a thousand corpses lie. 

Do not weep, babe, for war is kind. 
Because your father tumbled in the yellow trenches, 
Raged at his breast, gulped and died, 
Do not weep. 
War is kind. 

Swift blazing flag of the regiment, 
Eagle with crest of red and gold, 
These men were born to drill and die. 
Point for them the virtue of slaughter, 
Make plain to them the excellence of killing 
And a field where a thousand corpses lie. 

Mother whose heart hung humble as a button 
On the bright splendid shroud of your son, 
Do not weep. 
War is kind."

(Found on page 352.)

     Stephen Crane is known for his use of irony, and this poem is certainly no exception. When first read, it may seem as though Crane is celebrating the glory of war. In reality, however, Crane uses several literary devices in order to show just the opposite. The poem uses much imagery, through the "hoarse, booming drums of the regiment" and the "father tumbl[ing] in the yellow trenches." The images portrayed in this poem are far from pretty, and contrast with the statement that "war is kind." Additionally, Crane's heavy use of repetition further drives this point. "Do not weep./War is kind." is stated at the end of every shorter stanza, and "These men were born to drill and die.../And a field where a thousand corpses lie" is repeated in the longer ones. Both instances of repetition, in addition to the imagery, reveal the horrors of war. Furthermore, the two forms of stanzas represent tone shifts that occur throughout the poem. The first, third, and fifth stanzas, for instance, are more straightforward in their presentation of the tragedies of war. The speaker in these stanzas does not hesitate to mention the losses of husbands, fathers, and sons, along with the ironic statement that "War is kind." The speaker of the second and fourth stanzas, however, is unconcerned with the loss of thousands of men, and sees war only for "the virtue of slaughter" and "the excellence of killing." Crane uses these stanzas almost entirely ironically, so as to explain why these men are dying in the first place--because those who command them simply are not concerned about their lives, and see them not as people, but as another piece of the slaughter.

     Though I have experienced this poem in the past, it remains a potent piece to this day. Along with The Red Badge of Courage, "War is Kind" is the epitome of Stephen Crane. At every level, the poem is a criticism of war. It is not very complex due to this, although Crane's use of irony adds a layer that must be realized before the poem's true meaning can be shown. However, once the poem can be seen for its true meaning (a task that is not very difficult), "War is Kind" is clearly one of the greatest and most powerful war poems of all time.

The Handmaid's Tale

     One symbol that is prevalent throughout The Handmaid's Tale is mirrors. The Commander's house is completely devoid of mirrors, except for one near the stairs which is "round, convex, a pier glass, like the eye of a fish" (Atwood 9). Offred sees herself in the mirror as a fragment of herself, as the mirror's distortive properties prevent her from seeing herself clearly. Conversely, at Jezebel's, the mirror remains, since the women "need to know what they look like" (241). The mirrors thus can be seen as projections of individuality. The Handmaids, who are stripped of their personality, appearance, and dignity, are unable to do something as simple as view themselves in a mirror. They are denied the ability to see themselves clearly, and are robbed of their individuality. The one mirror that does hang in the Commander's house not only removes Offred's appearance, but replaces it with one that is without shape. Jezebel's, however, allows for more freedom and individuality, but also shows the "workers" what they have been reduced to. Atwood uses mirrors in criticism of both the oppression of women (as seen with the Handmaids) and their oversexualization (seen in Jezebel's). Mirrors contribute to the theme in this way--by being representative of shattered individualism.

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     One particularly notable passage in The Handmaid's Tale occurs in Chapter 24:

     What I need is perspective. The illusion of depth, created by a frame, the arrangement of shapes on a flat surface. Perspective is necessary. Otherwise there are only two dimensions. Otherwise you live with your face squashed against a wall, everything a huge foreground, of details, close-ups, hairs, the weave of the bedsheet, the molecules of the face. Your own skin like a map, a diagram of futility, crisscrossed with tiny roads that lead nowhere. Otherwise you live in the moment. Which is not where I want to be.
     But that's where I am, there's no escaping it. Time's a trap, I'm caught in it. I must forget about my secret name and all ways back. My name is Offred now, and here is where I live.
Live in the present, make the most of it, it's all you've got.
     Time to take stock.
     I am thirty-three years old. I have brown hair. I stand five seven without shoes. I have trouble remembering what I used lo look like. I have viable ovaries. I have one more chance.
     But something has changed, now, tonight. Circumstances have altered.
     I can ask for something. Probably not much; but something. (143-144)

Offred finally describes herself almost halfway through the book. It is here where it seems as though she finally stops resisting the pressures of Gilead, but in reality, as the last few sentences show, she is in fact stronger than ever. She also notes that, since she is still fertile, she is not without hope. It is interesting, though, to note that Offred refers to perspective as "the illusion of depth," as though it does not exist. It seems that though Offred does want to carefully plan out her future and analyze her past, she cannot. However, now that she has gained favor with the Commander, she can use both her body and her mind to, possibly, escape her torment. While she once had but once chance, now, it seems, that she has several more should she make the correct choices. If all goes well for her, she may just find 

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     The Handmaid's Tale, though not perfect, certainly accomplished what it set out to do. Atwood intended to write a novel criticizing both organized religion and the oppression and oversexualization of women, and she certainly did. However, there were a few flaws that left the novel slightly lacking. For instance, the ending, though creative in its presentation, seems to be somewhat lacking. Similar to the ending of All Quiet on the Western Front, which abruptly switches to a third-person view in a quick aside, the lecture style in the form of the "Historical Notes" seems as though it was tacked-on last minute. The entire ending could be skipped without any major consequence. Additionally, though some characters had depth and were well-written, others seemed to lack some characterization. Serena Joy, for instance, is painted as a mean old woman who is locked in this unhappy society that she herself helped to create. But beyond that, we hardly see anything else. Admittedly, this can be excused due to Offred's limited knowledge of Gilead's inner workings, but some characters still felt somewhat two-dimensional. The Handmaid's Tale did have some redeeming qualities, though. While other, more American authors might have been more reluctant to create such a graphic novel, Atwood's no-holds-barred approach ultimately illuminates the meaning of the novel in general. And Atwood seamlessly combined the futuristic dystopian feel of Gilead with the archaic and barbaric feel of an ancient theocracy. So while The Handmaid's Tale did have flaws, ultimately, the best parts broke through.

And at any rate, it's still better than the movie.

Natasha, I am so, so sorry.