Patricia Gaile Cotaoco
Modern Literary Masterpieces class
“At death one will no longer be a slave to his emotions.”
-- Marcus Aurelius, Meditations
Death is a natural phenomenon that ever since the earliest times has already captured the interest and emotions of people. Death as a theme is most apparent in literary works—from the works of early Greek tragedians (e.g. Sophocles’ Antigone) to classic literary works (like Edgar Allan Poe’s The Cask of Amontillado) to contemporary novels (like The Book Thief of Markus Zusak). It is through the representation of death in literary texts that stories have becomes more interesting and realistic; it even seems that without it, the story would have been flat and unfinished. “Storytelling is always after the fact, and it is always constructed over a loss” (Miller in Friedman, 3). “[These] narratives of death and dying reflect a culture’s symbolic and mythic truths. Artifacts of death—rituals of dying and funeral, graveyards and tombs, wills and death certificates, the corpse itself—are as much as communal constructs, dramatic and narrative performances, as are the texts that contain them” (Friedman, 5). Being the natural event that it is, man has already “foreknown, expected and accepted” (Friedman, 6) death. And so, even in stories, the culmination is always death. However unfortunate it may then seem to sound, it shows that man has already grown accustomed to the idea of death and dying, and it is already considered a part of his accomplishments.
According to a web article, “modern writers have frequently presented death as the ultimate existential dilemma, one which arouses terrible anxiety as it offers an avenue toward authentic self-discovery.” Having a negative connotation or representation for death is common among texts. Javier Ruiz Herrero studied death metaphors found in fairy tales and Greek tragedies, and found out that the two genres usually employed negative metaphors about death. Among these are “death is sleep,” “death is old age,” and “death is cold.” However, there are also other death metaphors, which are not completely negative in nature like “death is renewal” and “death is transformation,” which Herrero explained from a religious point of view. He used the Easter celebration as a symbolism of new life, which is similar to the new life brought to Christians through the death of Jesus. Wallace Stevens supported this claim when he said “Death is the mother of beauty” in his poem Sunday Morning. The same thing is also said in reference to Virginia Woolf’s Orlando, which is “remarkable [as] it is a jest in a face of death: “death is present in an appearance of life” (Beer, 99). This shows that death in literary texts is also presented as a way for man “to create art and life.”
German theologian Karl Rahner has, however, another view of the subject. According to him:
“Death or rather dying ought to be considered, rather as the culminating act of life, in which a person expresses who he or she is, what they stand for, what his/her life is all about. This might happen in two ways: (1) via the circumstances of the death or by the manner of dying or both: an external and internal expression of what their life is all about; (2) whatever about the outer circumstances and the perceivable manner of death, death provides for all an opportunity for an internal expression of what they are all about, a ‘final option’ ratifying their ‘fundamental option’ or perhaps modifying it, this being part of dying.”
Instead of the usual “death is the end” metaphor, Rahner presents death in a positive light: as a solution or as a “fulfillment of a person’s freedom.” In a way, one may even look at it as somewhat heroic, revolutionary, and even a form of defiance because a person chooses to die for his own personal cause. This unusual kind of death metaphor is mirrored in A.S. Byatt’s novel Still Life. Sue Sorensen clearly explained this when she said “Stephanie faces her death directly when she says ‘This is it,’ much as she welcomed her son Will at birth by naming him ‘You.’ ‘Altruism’ is the culmination of the moment. It is a powerful word, deliberately cited to indicate that Stephanie has ‘lived for others,’ that she knows what her life has signified, and the she has chosen this life” (128). Another work of Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway, also exemplifies this death-as-a-solution metaphor. Referring to Septimus’ suicide, Woolf said:
“Death was defiance. Death was an attempt to communicate, people feeling, the impossibility of reaching the centre which, mystically, evaded them; closeness drew apart; rapture faded; one was alone. There was an embrace in death.” (202)
In both examples, death is of the person’s (or in this case, the characters’) choice. Their deaths are something that they think are essential for the sake of the people around them.
It is in the same context of “death as a solution” or “death as a form of escape” that selected texts will be studied. The following literary texts will be used: Jean Paul Sartre’s No Exit, Ian McEwan’s Amsterdam, Margaret Atwood’s The Blind Assassin, and Ninotchka Rosca’s State of War. This paper will be particularly concerned with the female characters of the said literary texts, and in how they used death to solve or escape their miserable state.
“Death…is a cornucopia of clues”
“Death…is a cornucopia of clues about the meaning of life” (Koestenbaum in Shibles, 138). This cornucopia of clues is evident in how literary works present death as a part of everyday life. Even the symbolisms consist of common items like mirrors, clocks, skull and bones, as well as coffins, weapons, and leafless trees.
No Exit
Not a lot of symbolism is needed for Jean Paul Sartre’s drama No Exit as it already takes place in hell (although the hell is described to be more of an abandoned hotel room than the usual biblical description of a fiery place like Dante’s Inferno.) The clear symbols of death are the mirror and paper knife. In the play, Estelle is an annoying vain character. She continuously looks for a mirror so as to confirm her existence. She even concedes to Inez playing the role of her mirror just to convince herself that she still exists and that she is still the same person:
ESTELLE: “When I can’t see myself I begin to wonder if I really and truly exist. I pat myself just to make sure, but it doesn’t help much. I’ve six big mirrors in my bedroom. They’re reflecting the carpet, the settee, the window—but how empty it is, a glass in which I’m absent. When I talked to people, I always made sure there was one near by in which I could see myself. I watched myself talking. And somehow it kept me alert, seeing myself as the others saw me.
According to Shibles, “mirrors involve the revealing of the self in a metaphoric way. And one views oneself as older” (138). Estelle’s use of the mirror reminds her of her existence and that she gets old everyday (despite her having a vain personality).
Early in the play, Estelle does not want to think that she is dead; she even prefers to call herself “absent.” Initially, she puts on the impression that she does not like what has happened to her (dying of pneumonia). But her very first lines upon entering the room already imply that she is running away from something, and somehow seems like she is glad to be dead.
ESTELLE: No. Don’t look up. I know what you’re hiding with your hands. I know you’ve no face left.
She mistakes Garcin to be her dead lover who killed himself after Estelle drowned their baby. It may not have been for a good cause, but in here, it is clear how Estelle used her death (although she has died of a natural cause) to escape the guilt she feels. Her guilt and her desire to escape from it are made clear as the story progresses. Garcin and Inez continue to push her to answer their questions about her past, and they somehow manage to figure things out.
INEZ: Did he shoot himself on your account?
ESTELLE: Of course not. How absurd you are!
GARCIN: Then why should you have been so scared? He blew his brains out, didn't he? That's how his face got smashed.
ESTELLE: Don't! Please don't go on.
GARCIN: Because of you. Because of you.
INEZ: He shot himself because of you.
ESTELLE: Leave me alone! It's -- it's not fair, bullying me like that. I want to go! I want to go!
Inez, the other female character in the story, is a self-proclaimed “damned bitch.” Considering herself a “live coal that eventually turned to cinder,” (which, again, is another reference to death) she immediately comes off simply as a cold-hearted lesbian. She is assertive, “bitchy,” and hostile. However, beneath her spicy personality, it is clear that she is also another character who wants to escape. But as for her, she wants to escape and avoid the possibility of being judged and hurt by other people. That is how she has used her death.
INEZ: I’m always conscious of myself—in my mind. Painfully conscious.
(To Garcin): To forget about the others? How utterly absurd! I feel you there, in every pore. Your silence clamors in my ears. You can nail up your mouth, cut your tongue out—but you can't prevent your being there. Can you stop your thoughts? I hear them ticking away like a clock, tick-tock, tick-tock, and I'm certain you hear mine. It's all very well skulking on your sofa, but you're everywhere, and every sound comes to me soiled because you've intercepted it on its way. Why, you've even stolen my face; you know it and I don't! And what about her, about Estelle? You've stolen her from me, too.
Early on in the play, Inez immediately displays hostility towards Garcin. This is because she perceives Garcin to be a judgmental person, and she does not want to be criticized. When she was still alive, Inez used her strong personality to ward off people’s judgments about her. Admittedly or not, she has found the perfect excuse to do so by dying.
Amsterdam
Music is the main representation of death used in Ian McEwan’s novel. Clive’s supposedly finest composition, Millennium Symphony, is one clear example. The title is about time, which is similar to another traditional death symbol that speaks of time ticking away, the hourglass. In the novel, Clive uses Ludwig van Beethoven’s Ode to Joy as an inspiration for his Millennium Symphony. Ode to Joy is a poem written by Friedrich Schiller, and eventually incorporated into Beethoven’s famous Symphony No. 9. Similarly, the ode also talks about death: “In the face of death a friend,/To the work were given blisses/And the Cherubs God attend.//”
However, for this paper, the focus is on Molly—the dead woman who has been the lover of the four male characters in the novel. In the early part of the story, Clive and Vernon are talking about Molly and how surprised they are that Molly had conceded to a vegetable state of life.
He continued, "I mean, to die that way, with no awareness, like an animal. To be reduced, humiliated, before she could make arrangements, or even say goodbye. It crept up on her, and then..."
He shrugged. They came to the end of the trampled lawn, turned, and walked back.
"She would have killed herself rather than end up like that," Vernon Halliday said. He had lived with her for a year in Paris in '74, when he had his first job with Reuters and Molly did something or other for Vogue.
"Brain-dead and in George's clutches," Clive said. (4-5)
It seems ironic that Clive calls Molly brain-dead, when in fact, in the very first page of the novel, she is described as “feisty,” “gorgeous,” and “daring.” As said in the novel, “she never knew what hit her.” And so, from a feisty restaurant critic who could still do cartwheels at 46 years old, she suddenly changed into a helpless, “sick-room prisoner of her morose, possessive husband George” (3).
At first, George is portrayed to be a loving and loyal husband who cared for his sick wife day and night. But later on, it has been proven that he is a despicable, annoying character who is possibly bordering on psychotic (to come up with a wicked scheme that would get rid of Molly’s former lovers is truly sick). It makes one wonder then why Molly put up with a character like him. It is very much possible then that Molly has experienced a hellish life with George, and has decided to use her death to escape her husband’s clutches.
Nevertheless, it might also be possible that he had really been a good husband to her. It is also very likely that Molly could not just accept what happened to her. She could not bear being helpless and dependent on people.
The speed of her descent into madness and pain became a matter of common gossip: the loss of control of bodily function and with it all sense of humor, and then the tailing off into vagueness interspersed with episodes of ineffectual violence and muffled shrieking. (3-4)
Like Inez, she has preferred to use her death as her way to escape the gossip surrounding her—whether it is about her sickness or her relationship with men. This is likely considering Molly has had several failed relationships. But more than that, Molly wants to free herself from being attached to one person. Her free-spirited character could not handle being tied down to one place only, or in this case, to one person.
The Blind Assassin
Meanwhile, Margaret Atwood showed her artistic side in The Blind Assassin as she used colors for her symbolisms. In addition to the colors already mentioned in the Hand-tinting chapter of the novel, Atwood used another color—yellow—as a representation for Laura’s death.
“History was blank, except for the photograph Laura had glued into it—herself and Alex Thomas at the button factory picnic, both of them now coloured light yellow” (516).
Although yellow is known to be a happy color, it also symbolizes mourning in some cultures. Some people during the Middle Ages even wore yellow to signify death.
More colors were mentioned when Laura’s death was described in the early part of the novel. Iris’ description of Laura at the time when she committed suicide shows that her sister has carefully planned her death:
“I could picture the smooth oval of Laura’s face, her neatly pinned chignon, the dress she would have been wearing: a shirtwaist with a small rounded collar, in a sober color—navy blue or steel grey or hospital-corridor green. Penitential colours—less like something she’d chosen to put on than like something she’d been locked up in. Her solemn half-smile; the amazed lift of her eyebrows, as if she were admiring the view.
The white gloves: a Pontius Pilate gesture. She was washing her hands of me. Of all of us.” (4)
In the novel, Laura’s character seemed queer, but when studied closely, one will discover a deep personality—deeper than any other characters in the story. Even at a young age, she has already made up her mind that she is somehow destined to help or save people. For Laura, death is just a means to save other people or oneself from misery and pain. That concept of death has been very clear to her:
“Why did she have to cut off a piece of her hair?” said Laura. “That Iris?”
I had no idea. “It was just something she had to do,” I said. “Sort of like an offering.”
“It helped Dido get out of her body,” said Laura. “She didn’t want to be alive any more. It put her out of her misery, so it was the right thing to do. Wasn’t it?” (515)
Her first “heroic act” was shown when she tried to drown herself, thinking that her death would bring their mother back to life. Then, this was repeated when she consented to sleep with Richard to save Alex from being imprisoned.
“It was horrible, but I had to do it. I had to make the sacrifice. I had to take the pain and suffering onto myself. That’s what I promised God. I knew if I did that, it would save Alex. I kept my end of the bargain.” (502)
Laura used her death not just to escape Richard’s vile ways, but more so, to impose revenge on him. She knew that Richard liked (or maybe, even loved) her. Her death was the only way to avenge Alex and herself as well from the despicable things that Richard did. Based on what Rahner said, Laura’s death was a form of a culminating act, a form of fulfillment. Her death was a solution, which also proved to be favorable for Iris as she eventually learned how to stand up for herself and get even with Richard.
State of War
Lastly, in State of War, Ninotchka Rosca also utilized colors to symbolize death. When Maya realized that Luis Carlos is Hans’ son, she locked herself in the bathroom and died. It was after a few hours when the maid found “Maya’s image, stark naked save for the emeralds, her flesh already cyanotic blue” (219). The emerald necklaces are a reference to death, as well as the cyanotic blue discoloration of Maya’s skin. Emeralds are known to be gems that signify love, but for some it also serves as a tool to calm a disturbed mind. Again, this is a clear symbolism for death as calming a disturbed mind implies deadening the nerves. The cyanotic blue discoloration of the flesh is what happens when a person is about to die or is already dead.
Maya’s death is probably the most unrealistic, almost like magic realism, when compared to the other literary texts. She knew she was going to die. “I stink of the grave,” (218) she said. It was not very clear in the text how Maya died, but it seemed that she chose her death—an untimely one at that. Her death was her way of escaping and putting a stop to what seemed like a curse to their family: that she and her descendants will be inflicted with never-ending pain and suffering, and that women will be continuously taken advantage of by men (particularly foreigners).
“Her memories vomited her shame—both public and private; the shame that had driven her to lash saints and horses with equal cruelty and that which had driven her to embrace the priest’s corruption until he found himself unable to live without her contempt. She felt the pain of all her childbirths, equal to the pain of watching her six sons walk away from the monastery, each with a woven reed chest of clothes on his shoulder, on their way to unspeakable voyages so they could escape the recurrent sermons of their own father who, insidiously, condemned his own brood by repeating over and over again that the sins of fathers were visited upon their descendants even to the third generation.” (191)
Her character is very traditional, very old school. She believes in things such as magic, luck, and destiny. She believes in a higher being, although she does not specifically approve of Christianity (considering what she had to go through when she was with the Capuchin monk). Her hard-headedness and strong personality did not dissuade her from choosing to use her death as a way to escape and save her descendants from the “condemnation” imposed by the fate of her predecessors. And so, Maya deems it right that by taking her own life will put everything back to normal. She thinks that her death can compensate for the bad luck bestowed upon her family. Like Laura, Maya chose to die in the hopes of ending the atrocious events happening in their lives.
“She could take some comfort from the fact that he would soon be gone and the stars of fate could right themselves again. As she turned away, she caught a glimpse of the canal and noticed how odd the boats looked in the white light of the afternoon. They seemed to have been painted black from prow to stern and were almost etched against the inordinately brilliant light.” (218)
It is even interesting to note how she looked like when she died. Her death is somehow likened to a saint who offered herself as a sacrifice. A saint, who in the end, is immortalized by having a painting of herself framed: “Enough light mirror on the bathroom’s opposite wall and, within the carved wood of its frame, Maya’s image, stark naked save for the emeralds, her flesh already cyanotic blue” (219).
Grim Reaper No More
Estelle, Inez, Molly, Laura, and Maya have one thing in common. They are revolutionary women. They were able to prove that death should not be restricted to the grim, gloomy, shoddy idea that it used to be. Death can be useful, not only to pursue and fight a personal battle, but also to realize a worthy cause.
In the selected texts, it was apparent how the female characters used and took advantage of their deaths to escape their miserable conditions. While their reasons may differ—some are even selfish—in the end, their deaths were still put into good use. They were able to free themselves of certain emotions (like guilt and paranoia) and the ghosts of the events in their past that had been haunting them for quite some time. In the end, they were able to find peace within themselves. As for some, like Laura, they also utilized their deaths as a way to “get even” with the people who have done them wrong. It may not be a noble cause, but it is human nature anyway to take on revenge. Their act simply confirms their humanity even up to the last minute of their lives. Then again, as emphasized by Rahner and Sorensen, altruism or self-sacrifice is the ultimate act. Choosing to die for the purpose of saving other people or to compensate for wrong deeds is heroic, yet revolutionary. Having a “revolutionary” kind of death defies tradition, and simply gives the impression that the female character is not subservient (which is orthodox in many literary texts).
As mentioned earlier, having death in a story makes it more interesting and realistic. It reflects the culture the author has grown up to, as well as his or her ideals in life. Apparently, the authors of the texts are not confined within the walls of the society they belong to. Being able to represent death, particularly through a female character, is simply genius.
Bibliography
Books
Atwood, Margaret. The Blind Assassin. New York: Anchor Books, 2000.
Beer, Gillian. “The Body of the People in Virginia Woolf.” Women Reading Women’s Writing. Ed. Sue Rose. London: The Harvester Press, 1987.
McEwan, Ian. Amsterdam. London: Vintage Books, 2005.
Rosca, Ninotchka. State of War. Manila: Anvil, 2005.
Shibles, Warren. Death: An Interdisciplinary Analysis. Wisconsin: The Language Press, 1974.
Woolf, Virginia. Mrs. Dalloway. London: Penguin Group, 1996.
Electronic Book
Friedman, Alan Warren. Fictional Death and the Modernist Enterprise. Cambridge University Press. < isbn="9780521442619&ss=">.
Sartre, Jean Paul. No Exit. Scribd. 13 Sept. 2008.
Online Journal Article
Sorensen, Sue. “Death in the Fiction of A. S. Byatt.” Critique 43 (2002) : 115-132.
Online Articles
Herrero, Javier Ruiz. “At the Crossroads Between Literature, Culture, Linguistics, and Cognition: Death Metaphors in Fairy Tales.” Revisita Española de Lingüística Aplicada.
"Death in Literature: Introduction." Twentieth-Century Literary Criticism. Ed. Jennifer Gariepy. Vol. 78. Gale Cengage, 1999. eNotes.com. 2006. 23 Nov. 2008
“Death in Literature as Cultural History.” Literature for Adults. Andrew Schopp. 2007. 23 Nov. 2008
“The Philosophy of Death.” 11 Dec. 2008
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