Notes on “History, Memory and the Historian”

Friedlander, Saul. “History, Memory, and the Historian: Dilemmas and Responsibilities.” New German Critique 80 (2000): 3-15. JSTOR. Web. 17 Nov. 2009.

In Saul Friedlander’s “History, Memory and the Historian: Dilemmas and Responsibilities,” Friedlander discusses two dominant approaches to history. The first relies on empirical data, rituals, and a ““rational” understanding of others,” while the other acknowledges that the extermination of millions of innocent Jews can only be realized through the “mythic memory” of the victims (Friedlander 11). I plan on drawing on his article to help emphasize the importance of a less conclusive approach to history. One that allows for emotion, and a recognition of the imperfection of empirical history.

Notes on “Writing Posthistorically”

So, in reading Orvell’s article “Writing Posthistorically: Krazy Kat, Maus, and the Contemporary Fiction Cartoon,” Orvell makes articulates my point on Spiegelman’s violence in a way I wish I would have: “where the typical cartoon desensitizes us to violence, Spiegelman sensitizes us, despite the fact that he traps his characters within visual stereotypes that threaten to destroy their sensibilities” (Orvell 117).  Spegelman’s power comes from his distance from trying to create a distinct past or present.  Orvell says “Thus the postwar years, Spiegelman suggests, in many ways duplicate, uncannily recapitulate, the perversities and deformities of the war. The cost of survival is a loss of the vital self” (Orvell 119). Most people believe that the past and present can be separated completely, and in doing so they almost always impose some of the present on their recreations of the past. Spiegelman is overt about his intentions, and the cartoons in many ways allow the reader to meet the entanglement with less skepticism. Then, the violent confronts us with a maximized power because the reader imposes the masks the characters wear, just as much as the writer. Artifice can also be described as restraint, and this is preciscely what  Orvell points to in his article. By restraining his fathers grief and allowing the comic strips to express the subtle nuances Spiegelman is able to “not take over the inner story, but [rather] it occupies more space” (Orvell 124).

A Rough Draft of Notes

The artifice of human morality: book I, pg 6, 54-55, pg 98-100

The artifice of movement: starts book I, pg 12 continues through novel

The artifice of privacy: book I, pg 23

The artifice of Religion: book I, pg 54

The artifice of narrative time: book I, pg 67, pg 74, pg 77, pg 80, pg 82, pg 84, pg 110, pg 112 (not restricted to these pages but it is a good example of moving abruptly between past a present blurring the distinctions)

The artifice of representation: As you adapt to the use of animals Spiegelman alters between cartoon animals, cartoon people, and actual photographs: book I, pg 100, pg 41-47, book II introduction and pg 141, book II pg 16 (the process of writing): the right of representation: book I, pg 158-159

The artifice of historicity: book II pg 69 (analyze how quotes like this undermine or enhance the story), pg 68 (confusion between Art and his father over order of events), pg 54 (what Art had read in history vs. what his dad had experienced): focus on the power of the conclusion through the discussion of story telling and the birth and death date of Art on the final page: book II, pg 136

 

Auxiliary notes-

I found two W.H. Auden poems, which I think will contribute and enrich my discussion on artifice. In Auden’s poem “In Memory of W.B. Yeats,” he puts forth the idea that “poetry makes nothing happen”. This made me think that it is possible that the antithesis of this belief forces people to attempt to create “realistic” fiction because they believe it to be a more effective tool for teaching the audience. Auden may see nothing as a good thing in the era of Nazi propaganda. The second poem Auden writes on September 1, 1939, the beginning of World War II. The final two stanzas of this poem struck me as significant to my paper. He discusses the real and the unreal. Breaking down those things that we are certain of and affirming those things we are not.

Artifice in Schindler’s List

Manchel, Frank “Mishegoss: Schindler’s List, Holocaust Representation, and Film History.” Historical Journal of Film, Radio and Television 18.3 (1998): 431-436. MLA International Bibliography. EBSCO. Web. 15 Nov. 2009.

 

Bernstein, Michael André “The Schindler’s List Effect.” The American Scholar 63.3 (1994): 429-432. MLA International Bibliography. EBSCO. Web. 15 Nov. 2009.

 

I chose the following articles concerning Schindler’s List for the following reasons. Manchel’s essay highlights multiple articles concerning the film and its reception. The article contributes to my discussion on artifice by listing peoples main concern with the film as the place of place of a nonfiction piece on an important historical event. Bernstein’s article focuses solely on the movie and discusses the place of imposing a narrative and morality on a historical event. Bernstein’s problem seems to be the absolutism that a film like Schindler’s list offers. He says that the premise of most of the argument in favor of the movie is that it will open up racial discussions in todays society. This poses an interesting question about artifice: is non artifice contradictory because in the end the imposition of a narrative will always be an imposition and not a reality?

Sources

Writing Posthistorically: Krazy Kat, Maus, and the Contemporary Fiction Cartoon
Miles Orvell
American Literary History, Vol. 4, No. 1 (Spring, 1992), pp. 110-128
Published by: Oxford University Press
Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/489940

New Literary History, Vol. 21, No. 4, Papers from the Commonwealth Center for Literary and Cultural Change (Autumn, 1990), pp. 939-955
Published by: The Johns Hopkins University Press
Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/469193

Budick, Emily Miller “Forced Confessions: The Case of Art Spiegelman’s Maus.” Prooftexts: A Journal of Jewish Literary History 21.3 (2001): 379-398. MLA International Bibliography. EBSCO. Web. 10 Nov. 2009.

I am certain, unless I completely alter my thesis, that these sources will play a vital role in my paper. The first and the third for their direct discussions of the stylistic and thematic analysis of Maus, and the second for its overall discussion on the duality and transcendent possibilities of fiction.

I attach the following article for a few reasons. I was struck by the authors use of the term “subversion” when describing Maus because I realized that I had not considered I had only considered the violent portrayals of Jewish resistance a form of subversion. So now I want to look at all of these texts as various forms of historical, physical and philosophical subversions. I am also going to attempt to locate the following citations that were used in the piece: 6, 10, 15. They stood out to me as important conversations that should be added to my argument.

Freedom?

When one wants to analyze the liberty of a particular society, political systems, in the mind of the observer, become a representation of the society’s freedom. I must admit I am often plagued by a similar arrogance. Being an agnostic in a secular society leads you to believe, often falsely, that shackles are a symbol second and third world countries. Even the language I use to describe other countries carries with it a diminishing idea that the west has placed on the rest of the world. The premise of my post was realized after reading the following post from Marjane Satrapi’s Persepolis: “The more time passed, the more I became conscious of between the official representation of my country and the real life of the people, the one that went on behind the walls” (Satrapi 150). The walls which veiled the private lives of the Iranian citizens are not limited to the domestic domains. The second half of Persepolis demonstrates the ubiquitousness of walls created within human societies, no matter how politically free a society is. Freedom is a word that is so often ill-conceived before it is interjected into a discussion. Does not the restriction of certain actions, or “freedoms”, expand a society’s freedom.

In many regards Satrapi’s Persepolis becomes a meditation on the true meaning of freedom. When she finds herself in Vienna, she is surrounded by a youth culture that has the freedom to indulge in intoxicants, sex, and expression but were they more free than her peers in Iran, or were their constraints perpetuated by their deception of freedom? Marjane struggles with the validity over indulgence in the face of her people’s persecution: “If only they knew… If they knew their daughter was made up like a punk, that she smoked joints to make a good impression, that she had seen men in their underwear while they were being bombed everyday, they wouldn’t call me their dream child” (Satrapi 39). The microcosm of Marjane and her parents relationship becomes a metaphor for western culture and their obtained freedom. What has been done with that freedom, and what societal veils have we imposed upon our people?

The exceeding complexity of Marjane’s story is part of its power. Neither in Vienna or in Iran does Marjane believe she has complete freedom, and she holds no punches in rebuking the opressive nature of the political and religious powers in her country. While I will not pretend to have any reservations about declaring my philisophical distaste towards a system run a set of erroneous and contradictory religious ideals, I wont pretend that freedom is a concept which can be realized by western tradition or politics. Sometimes freedom means the abandonment of certain freedoms for the obtainment of others: “There was no longer a war I was no longer a child, my mother didn’t faint and my grandma was there, happily… Happily, because since the night of September 9th, 1994, I only saw her again once, during the Iranian New Year in March 1995. She died January 4th, 1996…Freedom had a price…” (Satrapi 187).

Persepolis’ Universal Regonalism

When discussing the graphic novel Sloth by Gilbert Hernandez, Hernandez would give the reader leads about his culture that were often met with dead ends. The dead ends did not appear to be the result of some larger theme or narrative, but rather, the result of poor plotting. The graphic novel was crucial in the way it sparked interest in another culture while drawing parallels. Persepolis, by Marjane Satrapi, took on the burden of cultural storytelling, while balancing uncompromising depth with a childish voice. The introduction to the novel is more than the author’s convictions and sentiments, but a brief synopsis of Iranian history and plight. Although the simplistic art echoes the age of the narrator, the introduction braces you for more than a few childish sketches and laments. The burden of the Iranian struggle has demanded a certain level of maturity from the Iranian children, and in a similar manner, Marjane demands more than a listless narrative pursuit from the reader. Marjane illustrates the complications of growing up in a society that demands maturity of the youth. The illustrations are caught between shifts of realism and simplicity, as well as shifts of imaginative hallucinations. Working in tandem with the personal accounts and narratives, created two Irans: familiar and otherworldly. Marjane’s ties foreign readers to the Iranian struggle. Schisms and prejudices often the result of fear and misunderstandings. So, Marjane use the simplicity of her art and prose to reveal a relatable human struggle: freedom. It is possible that people from the west, who have not been surrounded by violent struggles, see themselves as outsiders; so, Marjane pulls you in to the physical world through the metaphysical world. Page seventy deals with all encompassing questions of justice and divine intervention. When Marjane starts to question dictums like, “Everything will be alright,” she dismisses god by saying, “Shut up, you! Get out of my life!!! I never want to see you again” (Satrapi 70)! This interaction breaks down walls that the west has created to distinguish the “our god” from “their god.” And all the reader sees is an image of a scared child who has been taught to believe in a justice that is not self-evident. Through the latter mentioned traits, Persepolis becomes a cultural artifact, as well as a proclamation of shared humanity.

Tough Love for the Underdog

When I read graphic novels, my awareness of their belittlement in the literary world often leaves me rooting for their success, or defense of their shortcomings. Although I have a hard time criticizing a text that questions some of the usual themes of race, sexuality and class, one cannot hope that progressive themes will carry tenuous prose into critical acclaim. I suppose my desire for graphic novels propels between analytical leniency and severity. Once I could not seem to reconcile my ideals of literary strength with the text of Sloth, I found myself thinking that unless graphic novelist demand the best amongst themselves and their colleagues. Maybe I should hold the prose of a graphic novel to different standards? I do not see why I would when, despite their differences, there a certain principles that one looks for in a work whether it is a poem, a play, or prose. Sloth’s story was hurt by a few of the following components: lack of subtlety, underdevelopment, and juvenility that if pushed any further, would have bordered on mawkishness. These qualities would not have deteriorated any of the latter mentioned mediums.
The beginning drives home the metaphor of the character’s predicaments before the readers are allowed to do so for themselves. “Adults who burn out from living in the city pick up their families and move to towns like this for the slower pace, the quiet… What they fail to recognize is that it’s their teenagers who suffer boredom and existential low self-esteem in extreme ways” (Hernandez). If the reader could not pick up on this theme through the reoccurrence of the lemon trees, faceless pictures of teens, multiple accounts of suicide and comatose teens, then I am sorry to say, but they deserve to miss it. When juxtaposing Hernandez and Ware’s images of suburban isolation and solitude, Sloth is left looking like a teenage diary entry. Criticism is often most powerful when words and images are presented, not explained. Some of the themes feel so forced and indiscriminate that perfectly agreeable concepts conjured up a jaded and hostel response. For example, in the midst of a paranormal ghost hunt, Miguel walks away so he can dream of flying and contemplate human suffering: “Meanwhile, the real world is built on bullshit. To acknowledge the sheer scale of human suffering on earth is difficult for most people. There’s enough money and resources circulating the world to end so much pain. I know there is” (Hernandez). One of the main complaints leveled against graphic novels is that they are a juvenile medium. In my mind, progressive themes, cannot progress if they driven by unimaginative prose.

In Defense of Chris Ware’s “contaminating rot”

Jimmy Corrigan The Smartest Kid on Earth reminds one that stepping into someone’s memories should be a cumbersome task that requires patience and conditioning. At the beginning of the graphic novel one is adjusting the page from vertical to horizontal unsure of the author’s direction, intent, or possible malfunction. Mimicking the evolution of relationships, the reader is forced into the task of who Jimmy is from who he tells us he is. The accompaniment of the comic strips help enrich and entangle the task. Initially discord is created through the reader’s uncertainty of time and place. The joy of the style is realized through the continual pursuit of the narrative. The displacement if time allows the reader to greet certain ideas without the preconceived notions we develop over time. Once context is filled in around it, those ideas are revisited in the same manner the character’s revisit memory: a desire to set things straight after acting on an impulse. Consider how Jimmy interacts with his dad spelling out words with bacon before and after the accident. Is not the reader in the same place?

Since the history of Chicago and the Corrigan’s is not left stagnant at the beginning of the story, the reader is able to see the relevance of history in the lives of the characters and their society. Chris Ware leaves you feeling the same way about the Corrigan’s history that Jimmy’s grandfather felt about the World Fair: “It was overwhelming after a while all you could do was just sit and watch the crowds pass by” (Ware). In this manner, Chris Ware wants you to experience the book like a child. Be overwhelmed. Just take it in and realize that memory “likes to play tricks after years of cold storage” (Ware). Althought you did not store these memories as long as the characters Chris Ware brilliantly imiates, through pictures and prose, the feelings of a man looking back on the past. In this sense, his graphic novel is the perfect description of the grandfather’s sentiments: ” Some reflections remain as fresh as the moment they were minted while others seem to crumble into bits dusting their neighbors with contaminating rot of uncertainty” (Ware).