Blue veins like tropical snakes criss-cross
Underneath the worldly-wise skin
That has long since lost its elasticity,
That has so thinned you can almost see the bones.
I watch as you run your finger over the page
In search of that verse that contains the wisdom
You have learned to be truer with the passage of time.
Have they also touched the parchment
Of some crumbling papyrus scroll,
Or is my imagination getting the best of be
As I soak up your fountain of knowledge
Like water poured out on desert sand?
How many paintbrushes have your ancient artist’s hands
Touched as you stroked pain across canvas year after year
The way God does the clouds each day at sunset?
How many friends and family members have you cared for
While quoting words of comfort in their ears
From the only book you find worth reading
Over and over year after year?
How many prayers have you prayed for me
As you changed my diapers, taught me to read,
Played with my dolls, and cooked with me?
You lift your tired but joyful eyes
When you find the sought-after verse.
Grandmother, will I have hands like yours one day?
Your young skin will not last forever, she says with a laugh.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Abstractions Realized
A bomb exploding in a civilian village,
killing the enemies loved ones,
laughing at someone else’s pain;
Hate.
An elderly couple holding hands
as they walk through the garden
paths of a nursing home;
Love.
A wilted rose lying shattered
against the cold, sharp etchings
of a black marble tombstone;
Death.
A newborn baby’s first cry,
a child skipping down a sidewalk,
the sun gleaming as breeze blows over water;
Life.
Leaving home and loved ones
to kill an enemy you do not know,
bombardments and bullets battering;
War.
A cloudless sky on a sunny day,
a daisy alone in a quiet green field,
being around those you love;
Peace.
killing the enemies loved ones,
laughing at someone else’s pain;
Hate.
An elderly couple holding hands
as they walk through the garden
paths of a nursing home;
Love.
A wilted rose lying shattered
against the cold, sharp etchings
of a black marble tombstone;
Death.
A newborn baby’s first cry,
a child skipping down a sidewalk,
the sun gleaming as breeze blows over water;
Life.
Leaving home and loved ones
to kill an enemy you do not know,
bombardments and bullets battering;
War.
A cloudless sky on a sunny day,
a daisy alone in a quiet green field,
being around those you love;
Peace.
Discriminations
All the top dollar salaries,
The doctors and the engineers,
The jobs that little kids want
To achieve when they grow up,
Demand mathematical logic
And order scientific analysis.
To build the tallest building
Insists that you solve
A series of equations.
To save a bleeding-to-death victim
Of a drunk driving accident
Measures your knowledge of pints
And quarts and gallons.
Discrimination, that’s what it is.
Algebra for Dummies is no joke.
But though it graces my overflowing bookshelves,
I learned in its pages that I’m worse that a dummy.
When it comes to adding, to subtracting and multiplying
My brain reveals me as an ignoramus.
The doctors and the engineers,
The jobs that little kids want
To achieve when they grow up,
Demand mathematical logic
And order scientific analysis.
To build the tallest building
Insists that you solve
A series of equations.
To save a bleeding-to-death victim
Of a drunk driving accident
Measures your knowledge of pints
And quarts and gallons.
Discrimination, that’s what it is.
Algebra for Dummies is no joke.
But though it graces my overflowing bookshelves,
I learned in its pages that I’m worse that a dummy.
When it comes to adding, to subtracting and multiplying
My brain reveals me as an ignoramus.
Chance Encounter During A Film Break
Dressed in all black,
Looking typically suspicious
His back never to the door, yet
Occasionally monitoring his smartphone
Or the chatter coming from his high tech gadgets,
He sits alert in the corner booth.
As he moves a step closer, my brother Peter
Sees not a blond hair out of place,
No, not a grimace on Jack’s gnarly face,
Despite the great torture
He’s undoubtedly undergone
In a single day’s work.
What hour did he know of
The twenty-four later revealed?
What grim act of terror
Would rivet millions to their seats?
What great or weak United States President
Would he devotedly serve this go-round?
A holster strapped to his leg,
As his cuffs would bind outlaws,
Housed a cold, black Glock 30,
And the clips in his belt hung like ominous clouds.
Had he and his character so united that they
Merged into one on and off the set?
Was that Jack’s shiny black SUV
Parallel parked at the curb outside?
Or was that Peter’s imagination
Wishing what he only should dream?
How many high-sped chases, real or fantastic,
Had its tires endured?
Peter half expected the man’s blutooth
To blink before hearing
“Yes, I am calling on behalf of CTU. Yes, the crisis
Has been averted. Tell
All teams to stand down now!”
Peter stepped forward.
Their eyes instantaneously meet.
“Hi, my name is Peter and I’m one of your biggest fans.
Can I get your autograph?”
And the gruff voice grates in response, “Sure,
Which name should I use?
Jack Bauer or Kiefer Sutherland?”
Looking typically suspicious
His back never to the door, yet
Occasionally monitoring his smartphone
Or the chatter coming from his high tech gadgets,
He sits alert in the corner booth.
As he moves a step closer, my brother Peter
Sees not a blond hair out of place,
No, not a grimace on Jack’s gnarly face,
Despite the great torture
He’s undoubtedly undergone
In a single day’s work.
What hour did he know of
The twenty-four later revealed?
What grim act of terror
Would rivet millions to their seats?
What great or weak United States President
Would he devotedly serve this go-round?
A holster strapped to his leg,
As his cuffs would bind outlaws,
Housed a cold, black Glock 30,
And the clips in his belt hung like ominous clouds.
Had he and his character so united that they
Merged into one on and off the set?
Was that Jack’s shiny black SUV
Parallel parked at the curb outside?
Or was that Peter’s imagination
Wishing what he only should dream?
How many high-sped chases, real or fantastic,
Had its tires endured?
Peter half expected the man’s blutooth
To blink before hearing
“Yes, I am calling on behalf of CTU. Yes, the crisis
Has been averted. Tell
All teams to stand down now!”
Peter stepped forward.
Their eyes instantaneously meet.
“Hi, my name is Peter and I’m one of your biggest fans.
Can I get your autograph?”
And the gruff voice grates in response, “Sure,
Which name should I use?
Jack Bauer or Kiefer Sutherland?”
Red
You light the sky at dawn of day
And paint the clouds at sunset.
You color the roses of love
And darken each man’s veins.
You set apart the Savior’s words,
Yet also stain the Scarlet Letter
Two gems claim your color in January and July.
Each heart that beats you know inside out,
The rosy cheeks of each child’s vitality,
The lips of every lover’s passion.
You are the beauty in things most cherished.
And paint the clouds at sunset.
You color the roses of love
And darken each man’s veins.
You set apart the Savior’s words,
Yet also stain the Scarlet Letter
Two gems claim your color in January and July.
Each heart that beats you know inside out,
The rosy cheeks of each child’s vitality,
The lips of every lover’s passion.
You are the beauty in things most cherished.
Dickens and Promiscuity as Portrayed in Bleak House
Written during the beginning of the Realism, Charles Dickens’ lengthy Victorian novel Bleak House is a masterpiece of fiction that contains many social and political commentaries relative not only in Dickens’s world but also in the world today. A timeless issue in literature, the fallen woman plays a significant role in the novel’s plot. In determining Dickens’ views on fallen women it is important to consider the reactions of four primary characters in Bleak House towards Lady Dedlock’s transgression.
First of all, from the beginning of Bleak House, Miss Barbary gives a very decided opinion about her sister, Lady Dedlock’s, youthful indiscretions which resulted in Esther’s birth. To begin with, Esther does not understand her bastardly origin, rather believing herself to be an orphaned child left in the care of her severe aunt. “She was so very good herself, I thought,” Esther describes Miss Barbary, “that the badness of other people made her frown all her life” (28). The succeeding description that Esther attributes to her aunt is less than flattering; however, she is the virgin, the sister who supposedly played her cards right, living by the letter of the law. In short, Dickens paints a picture of an exceedingly self-righteous older woman whose bitterness and anger over her sister’s offense has eaten her up inside so that she has no quality of life left to live. On Esther’s birthday, Dickens’ records that Miss Barbary tells her, “It would have been far better, little Esther, that you had had no birthday; that you had never been born” (30). Esther responds by asking her if her mother died on her birthday, which, of course, she did not. However, based on her reaction and vehement statements of reproach, it would seem that Miss Barbary wishes that it were so.
Your mother, Esther, is your disgrace, and you were hers. The time will come—and soon enough—when you will understand this better, and will feel it too, as no one save a woman can. I have forgiven her the wrong she did to me, and say no more of it, though it was greater than you will ever know—than any one will ever know, but I, the sufferer. For yourself, unfortunate girl, orphaned and degraded from the first of these evil anniversaries, pray daily that the sins of others be not visited upon your head, according to what is written, Forget your mother, and leave all other people to forget her who will do her unhappy child that greatest kindness. (30)
Miss Barbary believes that Lady Dedlock not only sinned against God, but also against all womankind, of whom Miss Barbary herself is the greatest of sufferers. She victimized herself via Lady Dedlock’s disgrace, depriving her sister of her own child and herself becoming an old maid. Miss Barbary’s bitterness shrivels her up and ruins her life. Ironically, although she warns Esther lest she reap the consequences for her family’s actions, it appears that Miss Barbary had bitterness and hatred heaped in her own soul over her sister’s sin. Through Miss Barbary, Dickens shows that failure to forgive even the worst of sins wastes away at the soul, and also uses her character to warn against judging others for their sins.
Secondly, Esther’s response to the reality that she is her mother’s bastard child must be taken into account. Throughout the first five hundred pages of the novel, several minor characters note the close similarity in the appearances of Lady Dedlock and Esther; however, Esther’s face is so marred during her illness that no resemblance remains afterward. One day, while Esther is staying at Chesney Wold to recover her strength, Lady Dedlock comes to her while she is resting in the park-woods. As she approaches, Esther notes that there is “something in her faced that [she] had pined for and dreamed of when [she] was a child” (578). With weeping, kisses, and passion, Lady Dedlock reveals her maternity to Esther, saying, “O my child, my child, I am your wicked and unhappy mother! O try to forgive me!” (579). Although one might expect Esther to respond in either anger or shock, she instead says that "When I saw her at my feet on the bare earth in her great agony of mind, I felt,through all my tumult of emotion, a burst of gratitude to the providence of God that I was so changed as that I never could disgrace her by any trace of likeness; as that nobody could ever now look at me, and look at her, and remotely think of any near tie between us. (579)"
In other words, rather than hold bitterness or anger over the entire situation, she rejoices that her illness has so disfigured her that her appearance would not lead to the revelation of her mother’s indiscretion. Lady Dedlock goes on to tell her that she must bear the burden for her sin alone “on [her] guilty feet. I bear it, and I hide it” (Ibid). She asks Esther then to keep her identity and their relationship secret. Rather than taking offense, Esther affirms her mother’s decision and agrees that it is the wisest course of action under the circumstances. In sharp contrast to her aunt, Esther deems her mother’s transgression almost as her own fault. She is frightened that she will be the cause of her mother’s downfall, which she perceives as an pardonable wrongdoing. Through Esther, Dickens not only provides hope for redemption and forgiveness to the fallen woman, but he also conjectures about the affects promiscuity may have on bastard children.
Thirdly, Sir Leicester Dedlock, the husband to the guilty party, plays a key role in portraying Dickens’ views of the fallen woman in his novel. In chapter 54, “Springing a Mine”, Mr. Bucket finally reveals the truth about Lady Dedlock’s promiscuity to Sir Leicester when he solves the murder mystery surrounding Mr. Tulkinghorn’s death. Sir Leicester’s response to this shocking revelation is surprising. As he contemplates what to do, he realizes that
"It is she… [about whom] he has never had a selfish thought. It is she whom he has loved, admired, honoured, and set up for the world to respect. It is she, who….has been a stock of living tenderness and love, susceptible as nothing else is of being struck with the agony he feels. He sees her, almost to the exclusion of himself; and cannot bear to look upon her cast down from the high places she has so well graced." (838)
As he considers all of this, he falls to his knees uttering her name “in a tone of mourning and compassion rather than reproach” (Ibid). Instead of becoming irate when he hears the truth, Sir Leicester refuses to view her as his perfect Victorian wife fallen from her ivory tower, but rather as his love who still remains on a golden pedestal. As the plot progresses and Lady Dedlock runs away, leaving an explanatory note behind her, Sir Leicester has a stroke as a result of his grief that makes him “the decrepit shadow of himself” (857). Despite a handicap that requires him to write rather than speak, he orders a search party out to find Lady Dedlock, to whom he desires to offer “full forgiveness” (859). Sir Leicester’s response to Lady Dedlock is perhaps Dickens’ strongest statement about the nature of fallen women. While many people considered such a sin unpardonable and worthy of death, Sir Leicester reverses the norm by offering pardon. He serves as a Christ-figure by continuing in his undying love for his wife even after he learns of her betrayal and disgrace.
Fourthly, Lady Dedlock’s response to her own sin is of exceeding importance in Dickens’ novel. She not only decides to hide her secret for years, but she also takes whatever measures she deems necessary to continue to cover up her sin when it begins to surface. Several chance events, such as the spontaneous combustion of Mr. Krook, the murder of Mr. Tulkinghorn, and the deferral of Mr. Guppy by Esther, help her to conceal it for a while, but ultimately all those she holds dear find her out. In accordance with the biblical truth that your sins will find you out, although it takes many years, Lady Dedlock’s transgression ultimately catches up with her. Next, when she realizes that all hope is lost for hiding her secret any longer, she writes a note to her husband and then runs away in disgrace. Sadly, although Esther and, more importantly, Sir Leicester offer redemption and love, Lady Dedlock cannot accept their grace and forgive herself. She feels she must do some sort of penance for her misdeed, and so she runs away before even learning of Sir Leicester’s reaction. She would rather flee the shame and rejection that she believes will come with confrontation than humble herself enough to accept whatever penalty those she has wronged deem fit. Although Mr. Bucket and Esther lead a perilous search for her, they do not find her until it is too late—she is already frozen to death by the gate of the public burial ground where her premarital lover, Captain “Nemo” Hawdon, lies.
Dickens depicts an interesting commentary on fallen womanhood and those that it affects in his novel Bleak House.
Through Miss Barbary he presents the affects that harbored bitterness can have on the life of the unforgiving. Esther shows how lies can affect children of indiscretion through both her childhood under Miss Barbary’s care and her blame-taking response to the truth. Sir Leicester reveals that full forgiveness can be extended to fallen women on the basis of true love, yet Lady Dedlock shows that not all women can reach a point where they are able to forgive themselves before arriving at a point of self-destruction caused by imposing penance on themselves for their transgressions. Dickens’ personal view of the fallen woman is multi-faceted yet hopeful. He critiques the life-long ripple effects that the sin of a fallen woman may have on those who surround her. While he offers hope, he still harbors skepticism as to whether or not a fallen woman can really accept the hope of forgiveness even if it is offered.
Works Cited
Dickens, Charles. Bleak House. London: Penguin, 2003. Print.
First of all, from the beginning of Bleak House, Miss Barbary gives a very decided opinion about her sister, Lady Dedlock’s, youthful indiscretions which resulted in Esther’s birth. To begin with, Esther does not understand her bastardly origin, rather believing herself to be an orphaned child left in the care of her severe aunt. “She was so very good herself, I thought,” Esther describes Miss Barbary, “that the badness of other people made her frown all her life” (28). The succeeding description that Esther attributes to her aunt is less than flattering; however, she is the virgin, the sister who supposedly played her cards right, living by the letter of the law. In short, Dickens paints a picture of an exceedingly self-righteous older woman whose bitterness and anger over her sister’s offense has eaten her up inside so that she has no quality of life left to live. On Esther’s birthday, Dickens’ records that Miss Barbary tells her, “It would have been far better, little Esther, that you had had no birthday; that you had never been born” (30). Esther responds by asking her if her mother died on her birthday, which, of course, she did not. However, based on her reaction and vehement statements of reproach, it would seem that Miss Barbary wishes that it were so.
Your mother, Esther, is your disgrace, and you were hers. The time will come—and soon enough—when you will understand this better, and will feel it too, as no one save a woman can. I have forgiven her the wrong she did to me, and say no more of it, though it was greater than you will ever know—than any one will ever know, but I, the sufferer. For yourself, unfortunate girl, orphaned and degraded from the first of these evil anniversaries, pray daily that the sins of others be not visited upon your head, according to what is written, Forget your mother, and leave all other people to forget her who will do her unhappy child that greatest kindness. (30)
Miss Barbary believes that Lady Dedlock not only sinned against God, but also against all womankind, of whom Miss Barbary herself is the greatest of sufferers. She victimized herself via Lady Dedlock’s disgrace, depriving her sister of her own child and herself becoming an old maid. Miss Barbary’s bitterness shrivels her up and ruins her life. Ironically, although she warns Esther lest she reap the consequences for her family’s actions, it appears that Miss Barbary had bitterness and hatred heaped in her own soul over her sister’s sin. Through Miss Barbary, Dickens shows that failure to forgive even the worst of sins wastes away at the soul, and also uses her character to warn against judging others for their sins.
Secondly, Esther’s response to the reality that she is her mother’s bastard child must be taken into account. Throughout the first five hundred pages of the novel, several minor characters note the close similarity in the appearances of Lady Dedlock and Esther; however, Esther’s face is so marred during her illness that no resemblance remains afterward. One day, while Esther is staying at Chesney Wold to recover her strength, Lady Dedlock comes to her while she is resting in the park-woods. As she approaches, Esther notes that there is “something in her faced that [she] had pined for and dreamed of when [she] was a child” (578). With weeping, kisses, and passion, Lady Dedlock reveals her maternity to Esther, saying, “O my child, my child, I am your wicked and unhappy mother! O try to forgive me!” (579). Although one might expect Esther to respond in either anger or shock, she instead says that "When I saw her at my feet on the bare earth in her great agony of mind, I felt,through all my tumult of emotion, a burst of gratitude to the providence of God that I was so changed as that I never could disgrace her by any trace of likeness; as that nobody could ever now look at me, and look at her, and remotely think of any near tie between us. (579)"
In other words, rather than hold bitterness or anger over the entire situation, she rejoices that her illness has so disfigured her that her appearance would not lead to the revelation of her mother’s indiscretion. Lady Dedlock goes on to tell her that she must bear the burden for her sin alone “on [her] guilty feet. I bear it, and I hide it” (Ibid). She asks Esther then to keep her identity and their relationship secret. Rather than taking offense, Esther affirms her mother’s decision and agrees that it is the wisest course of action under the circumstances. In sharp contrast to her aunt, Esther deems her mother’s transgression almost as her own fault. She is frightened that she will be the cause of her mother’s downfall, which she perceives as an pardonable wrongdoing. Through Esther, Dickens not only provides hope for redemption and forgiveness to the fallen woman, but he also conjectures about the affects promiscuity may have on bastard children.
Thirdly, Sir Leicester Dedlock, the husband to the guilty party, plays a key role in portraying Dickens’ views of the fallen woman in his novel. In chapter 54, “Springing a Mine”, Mr. Bucket finally reveals the truth about Lady Dedlock’s promiscuity to Sir Leicester when he solves the murder mystery surrounding Mr. Tulkinghorn’s death. Sir Leicester’s response to this shocking revelation is surprising. As he contemplates what to do, he realizes that
"It is she… [about whom] he has never had a selfish thought. It is she whom he has loved, admired, honoured, and set up for the world to respect. It is she, who….has been a stock of living tenderness and love, susceptible as nothing else is of being struck with the agony he feels. He sees her, almost to the exclusion of himself; and cannot bear to look upon her cast down from the high places she has so well graced." (838)
As he considers all of this, he falls to his knees uttering her name “in a tone of mourning and compassion rather than reproach” (Ibid). Instead of becoming irate when he hears the truth, Sir Leicester refuses to view her as his perfect Victorian wife fallen from her ivory tower, but rather as his love who still remains on a golden pedestal. As the plot progresses and Lady Dedlock runs away, leaving an explanatory note behind her, Sir Leicester has a stroke as a result of his grief that makes him “the decrepit shadow of himself” (857). Despite a handicap that requires him to write rather than speak, he orders a search party out to find Lady Dedlock, to whom he desires to offer “full forgiveness” (859). Sir Leicester’s response to Lady Dedlock is perhaps Dickens’ strongest statement about the nature of fallen women. While many people considered such a sin unpardonable and worthy of death, Sir Leicester reverses the norm by offering pardon. He serves as a Christ-figure by continuing in his undying love for his wife even after he learns of her betrayal and disgrace.
Fourthly, Lady Dedlock’s response to her own sin is of exceeding importance in Dickens’ novel. She not only decides to hide her secret for years, but she also takes whatever measures she deems necessary to continue to cover up her sin when it begins to surface. Several chance events, such as the spontaneous combustion of Mr. Krook, the murder of Mr. Tulkinghorn, and the deferral of Mr. Guppy by Esther, help her to conceal it for a while, but ultimately all those she holds dear find her out. In accordance with the biblical truth that your sins will find you out, although it takes many years, Lady Dedlock’s transgression ultimately catches up with her. Next, when she realizes that all hope is lost for hiding her secret any longer, she writes a note to her husband and then runs away in disgrace. Sadly, although Esther and, more importantly, Sir Leicester offer redemption and love, Lady Dedlock cannot accept their grace and forgive herself. She feels she must do some sort of penance for her misdeed, and so she runs away before even learning of Sir Leicester’s reaction. She would rather flee the shame and rejection that she believes will come with confrontation than humble herself enough to accept whatever penalty those she has wronged deem fit. Although Mr. Bucket and Esther lead a perilous search for her, they do not find her until it is too late—she is already frozen to death by the gate of the public burial ground where her premarital lover, Captain “Nemo” Hawdon, lies.
Dickens depicts an interesting commentary on fallen womanhood and those that it affects in his novel Bleak House.
Through Miss Barbary he presents the affects that harbored bitterness can have on the life of the unforgiving. Esther shows how lies can affect children of indiscretion through both her childhood under Miss Barbary’s care and her blame-taking response to the truth. Sir Leicester reveals that full forgiveness can be extended to fallen women on the basis of true love, yet Lady Dedlock shows that not all women can reach a point where they are able to forgive themselves before arriving at a point of self-destruction caused by imposing penance on themselves for their transgressions. Dickens’ personal view of the fallen woman is multi-faceted yet hopeful. He critiques the life-long ripple effects that the sin of a fallen woman may have on those who surround her. While he offers hope, he still harbors skepticism as to whether or not a fallen woman can really accept the hope of forgiveness even if it is offered.
Works Cited
Dickens, Charles. Bleak House. London: Penguin, 2003. Print.
The Coquette as Inoffensive as a Shadow
Throughout Villette, Lucy has two potential suitors—Dr. John Graham Bretton and Monsieur Paul Emmanuel. Although initially her devotion takes a decided course, her affections for each man takes a pivotal turn roughly midway through the novel in Volume II.
Prior to this turning point, in Volume I, the reader senses Lucy’s affection for Graham in the flippant manner she adopts to describe Paulina “Polly” Home during their concurrent visit at Bretton. As the novel progresses, Lucy slyly observes Dr. John while he ministers to residents at Madame Beck’s penssionate; however, she withholds his true identity from the reader until she falls ill and is forced to recover in the home of Mrs. Louis Bretton and her son, Graham—Dr. John. For a lengthy interval, Lucy gravitates towards Dr. John, accepting five letters from him as well as invitations to outings to the theater and art museums. The letters she receives from him are “the letter[s] of [her] hope, the fruition of [her] wish, the release from [her] doubt, the ransom from [her] terror… a morsel of real solid joy” (265). Meanwhile, Lucy and M. Paul introduced when Lucy is forced to substitute for an actress in M. Paul’s play who falls ill on Madame Beck’s fete day. They interact frequently and often capriciously at the school on Rue Fossette. M. Paul is constantly the pedantic master who instructs Lucy in all manner of Labassecouerian learning, as well as the recurrently hotheaded friend whom Lucy constantly frustrates.
In the chapter entitled “The Hotel Crecy” of Volume II, during a party in the home of M. de Bassompierre, Dr. John remembers Polly’s childhood attachment to him at Bretton and appeals to Lucy Snowe to aid him in his endeavor to renew Paulina’s interests. Lucy refuses. Along the way of his request, Graham tells Lucy that, were she a man, they would be best friends, for “[their] opinions would have melted into each other” (349). Lucy contrarily questions his statement, wondering if the very opposite would not be true. “We may see the same objects,” Lucy replies, “yet we estimate them differently” (349). He then reveals his ignorance of Lucy’s true character by deeming her “a being inoffensive as a shadow” (351). Evidently, despite the copious amount of time they have spent together, Dr. John has remained ignorant of Lucy’s true feelings for him—unobservant of her frustrations, her pent-up passions and desires. Suddenly, the eaves dropping M. Paul appears and contradicts Dr. John’s words, revealing his depth of knowledge of his protégée and colleague, Lucy Snowe. She describes him as “the sudden boa-constrictor” as he violently terms her a flirt, a coquette with fire in her soul and lightning in her eyes (352). Though he exaggerates because of his jealousy toward Graham, M. Paul discloses in his insult that he sees Lucy in a much truer light. These two statements from her potential suitors at the end of Volume II serve as a turning point for the romance of Lucy Snowe. Not only do they initially alter how she spends her time, but also affect the rest of her life.
By way of concretely terminating her former passions for Graham, Lucy decides almost immediately to bury his previously treasured letters in a sealed jar in a tree stump. Along with his letters, Lucy buries all but familial affections for the man she once obsessively loved. “In all this,” writes Lucy, “I had a dreary something—not pleasure—but a sad, lonely satisfaction” (328). During the ensuing relationship that develops between Lucy and M. Paul, Dr. John quickly fades from Lucy’s scope of thought and consideration. As time goes on and the novel draws to a close, Lucy achieves a sort of indifference that allows her to listen without envy to Paulina’s commendations of Dr John (412-418). When Graham and Paulina develop a romance without any outside help and decide to marry, Lucy ultimately acts, not unhappily, as a mediator between the couple and M. de Bassompierre (472-483).
On the other hand, a romance blossoms between Lucy Snowe and M. Paul during the remaining volume of Villette. Not only does he tutor and converse with her every day, but they interact as friends as well. When, once, Lucy Snowe begins to make a man’s watch guard, M. Paul becomes frightfully incensed because he envies the unknown recipient, whom he wrongly believes to be Dr. John (366-368). Not only is their relationship built largely around jealousy and passion, but it has several other odd conventions as well. M. Paul is always snooping in Lucy’s things, as well as filling her desk with chocolates and a variety of literature. Next, they are constantly annoying one another. For example, on M. Paul’s fete day, after everyone has given him a present, M. Paul is angry because Lucy has offered him nothing. She, however, is quite annoyed at his impatience, and therefore withholds out of spite the watch guard she had always intended to give him (376-385). Oddly, Lucy and M. Paul also spend a significant amount of time trying to convert one another. In “The Apple of Discord,” they discuss her Protestantism versus his Catholicism at length. Then, for a time, M. Paul completely avoids Lucy because his mentor, Pere Silas, instructs him not to consort with Protestants who refuse to convert. Although neither converts, they reach an accord to accept one another’s nonconformity.
Towards the end of the novel, in the chapter entitled “The Dryad”, M. Paul reveals to Lucy that he too sees the mysterious Nun-apparition, and uses this revelation as a venue to express his affection for Lucy (407). His words to her sharply contrast with Graham’s earlier reference to Lucy as being “inoffensive as a shadow” (351). M. Paul goes beyond the surface level of who Lucy is and why he is attracted to her and points out the kindred nature of their spirits. Unlike Dr John, he acknowledges that they do not see everything through the same lens, pointing out their differences of faith as an example. However, in hopes of proving to Lucy that they are meant to be together, he notes that they have similar faces, implementing the Victorian ideals of physiognomy and phrenology as further proof of their similar destinies. He sees the Nun as further connection between them, and even goes so far as to claim possession of Lucy, saying, “I perceive all this, and believe that you were born under my star…where that is the case with mortals, the threads of their destinies are difficult to disentangle” (407).
When M. Paul decides that he must leave Villette and travel, Lucy becomes overwrought at the prospect of losing her only love. However, just when her only chance at human love seems to be fading and the world to be conspiring against her, M. Paul reveals that he has lovingly arranged for Lucy to have her own home and school to work from until his return three years hence, at which time they are to be married. Before taking his leave of her, M. Paul at last declares his love to his “coquette,” saying, “Lucy, take my love. One day share my life. By my dearest, first on earth”(541).
In conclusion, Dr John’s fateful words that deem Lucy “as inoffensive as a shadow” terminate all affection that Lucy has for him, while M. Paul’s subsequent determination that she is a “coquette” creates the spark that ignites the flames of passion for the two teachers. The conversations at Hotel Crecy serve not only as a turning point in Lucy’s romance, but also as pivotal moment that redirects the remaining course of the novel.
Works Cited
Brontë, Charlotte. Villette (Penguin Classics). New York: Penguin Classics, 2004. Print.
Prior to this turning point, in Volume I, the reader senses Lucy’s affection for Graham in the flippant manner she adopts to describe Paulina “Polly” Home during their concurrent visit at Bretton. As the novel progresses, Lucy slyly observes Dr. John while he ministers to residents at Madame Beck’s penssionate; however, she withholds his true identity from the reader until she falls ill and is forced to recover in the home of Mrs. Louis Bretton and her son, Graham—Dr. John. For a lengthy interval, Lucy gravitates towards Dr. John, accepting five letters from him as well as invitations to outings to the theater and art museums. The letters she receives from him are “the letter[s] of [her] hope, the fruition of [her] wish, the release from [her] doubt, the ransom from [her] terror… a morsel of real solid joy” (265). Meanwhile, Lucy and M. Paul introduced when Lucy is forced to substitute for an actress in M. Paul’s play who falls ill on Madame Beck’s fete day. They interact frequently and often capriciously at the school on Rue Fossette. M. Paul is constantly the pedantic master who instructs Lucy in all manner of Labassecouerian learning, as well as the recurrently hotheaded friend whom Lucy constantly frustrates.
In the chapter entitled “The Hotel Crecy” of Volume II, during a party in the home of M. de Bassompierre, Dr. John remembers Polly’s childhood attachment to him at Bretton and appeals to Lucy Snowe to aid him in his endeavor to renew Paulina’s interests. Lucy refuses. Along the way of his request, Graham tells Lucy that, were she a man, they would be best friends, for “[their] opinions would have melted into each other” (349). Lucy contrarily questions his statement, wondering if the very opposite would not be true. “We may see the same objects,” Lucy replies, “yet we estimate them differently” (349). He then reveals his ignorance of Lucy’s true character by deeming her “a being inoffensive as a shadow” (351). Evidently, despite the copious amount of time they have spent together, Dr. John has remained ignorant of Lucy’s true feelings for him—unobservant of her frustrations, her pent-up passions and desires. Suddenly, the eaves dropping M. Paul appears and contradicts Dr. John’s words, revealing his depth of knowledge of his protégée and colleague, Lucy Snowe. She describes him as “the sudden boa-constrictor” as he violently terms her a flirt, a coquette with fire in her soul and lightning in her eyes (352). Though he exaggerates because of his jealousy toward Graham, M. Paul discloses in his insult that he sees Lucy in a much truer light. These two statements from her potential suitors at the end of Volume II serve as a turning point for the romance of Lucy Snowe. Not only do they initially alter how she spends her time, but also affect the rest of her life.
By way of concretely terminating her former passions for Graham, Lucy decides almost immediately to bury his previously treasured letters in a sealed jar in a tree stump. Along with his letters, Lucy buries all but familial affections for the man she once obsessively loved. “In all this,” writes Lucy, “I had a dreary something—not pleasure—but a sad, lonely satisfaction” (328). During the ensuing relationship that develops between Lucy and M. Paul, Dr. John quickly fades from Lucy’s scope of thought and consideration. As time goes on and the novel draws to a close, Lucy achieves a sort of indifference that allows her to listen without envy to Paulina’s commendations of Dr John (412-418). When Graham and Paulina develop a romance without any outside help and decide to marry, Lucy ultimately acts, not unhappily, as a mediator between the couple and M. de Bassompierre (472-483).
On the other hand, a romance blossoms between Lucy Snowe and M. Paul during the remaining volume of Villette. Not only does he tutor and converse with her every day, but they interact as friends as well. When, once, Lucy Snowe begins to make a man’s watch guard, M. Paul becomes frightfully incensed because he envies the unknown recipient, whom he wrongly believes to be Dr. John (366-368). Not only is their relationship built largely around jealousy and passion, but it has several other odd conventions as well. M. Paul is always snooping in Lucy’s things, as well as filling her desk with chocolates and a variety of literature. Next, they are constantly annoying one another. For example, on M. Paul’s fete day, after everyone has given him a present, M. Paul is angry because Lucy has offered him nothing. She, however, is quite annoyed at his impatience, and therefore withholds out of spite the watch guard she had always intended to give him (376-385). Oddly, Lucy and M. Paul also spend a significant amount of time trying to convert one another. In “The Apple of Discord,” they discuss her Protestantism versus his Catholicism at length. Then, for a time, M. Paul completely avoids Lucy because his mentor, Pere Silas, instructs him not to consort with Protestants who refuse to convert. Although neither converts, they reach an accord to accept one another’s nonconformity.
Towards the end of the novel, in the chapter entitled “The Dryad”, M. Paul reveals to Lucy that he too sees the mysterious Nun-apparition, and uses this revelation as a venue to express his affection for Lucy (407). His words to her sharply contrast with Graham’s earlier reference to Lucy as being “inoffensive as a shadow” (351). M. Paul goes beyond the surface level of who Lucy is and why he is attracted to her and points out the kindred nature of their spirits. Unlike Dr John, he acknowledges that they do not see everything through the same lens, pointing out their differences of faith as an example. However, in hopes of proving to Lucy that they are meant to be together, he notes that they have similar faces, implementing the Victorian ideals of physiognomy and phrenology as further proof of their similar destinies. He sees the Nun as further connection between them, and even goes so far as to claim possession of Lucy, saying, “I perceive all this, and believe that you were born under my star…where that is the case with mortals, the threads of their destinies are difficult to disentangle” (407).
When M. Paul decides that he must leave Villette and travel, Lucy becomes overwrought at the prospect of losing her only love. However, just when her only chance at human love seems to be fading and the world to be conspiring against her, M. Paul reveals that he has lovingly arranged for Lucy to have her own home and school to work from until his return three years hence, at which time they are to be married. Before taking his leave of her, M. Paul at last declares his love to his “coquette,” saying, “Lucy, take my love. One day share my life. By my dearest, first on earth”(541).
In conclusion, Dr John’s fateful words that deem Lucy “as inoffensive as a shadow” terminate all affection that Lucy has for him, while M. Paul’s subsequent determination that she is a “coquette” creates the spark that ignites the flames of passion for the two teachers. The conversations at Hotel Crecy serve not only as a turning point in Lucy’s romance, but also as pivotal moment that redirects the remaining course of the novel.
Works Cited
Brontë, Charlotte. Villette (Penguin Classics). New York: Penguin Classics, 2004. Print.
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