Showing posts with label Literature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Literature. Show all posts

Sunday, 17 September 2023

Wittgenstein and Hitler

Part one from a forthcoming book called Fifteen Characters: Volume Two




The Realschule in Linz harboured some capable students, alongside some rather mediocre ones. Nonetheless, it was a place in which young adults hoped to advance their respective aspirations. Alas, when one is aged sixteen, seventeen or eighteen one might not harbour any aspirations at all but, nonetheless, these young adults were shunted to Realshule in Linz despite their adolescent apathy.

            The canteen had been completely deserted for everyone, expect for two students. Seven long tables occupied the entire room, with seven long chairs placed directly beneath them. The walls were drab and grey. All the other students had already eaten except for two.

Ludwig Witgenstein had rather timorously moved his tray to the corner of the room. He ate his beef, cabbages and other assorted vegetables. He had had better meals than this with his wealthy family. but he would have to make ado with what the Realshcule offered. Witgenstein had piercing eyes, a jutting jaw and a long nose. He devoured his meal, but he was interrupted by the presence of another student who had taken his seat directly in front of him.

He looked up. This student had black eyes, short black hair and an arrogant countenance. He stirred his beef with his fork. ‘Are you a Jew?’ he asked.

Wittgenstein was taken aback by this question. Yes, had endured anti-semitic taunting multiple times in the past, but it was nonetheless annoying to be reminded of it once more. ‘Yes…’ he replied, as he looked at the table, nervously gripping his fork and knife.

‘And you are wealthy?’

‘Yes…’ he cautiously replied. His father owned a monopoly on Austrian steel. They owned thirteen mansions in Vienna alone.

‘Why do the other boys make fun of you?’

‘Because…’ Wittgenstein prevaricated. ‘Because I have been put forward a year… Because I am very clever… I am interested in philosophy, music, history, politics… Because I am not like them… Also, because….’

‘Because you are Jewish?’ asked the young Hitler.

‘Yes… But that is neither here nor there… That is just one aspect of what who I am… I am interested in ideas and art… Look, I am reading this book right now… I hope to write something like this one day…’

Wittgenstein took the book out of his bag. It was a copy of The World as Will and Representation by Arthur Schopenhauer. ‘I have read it multiple times and I have annotated it endlessly… I am fascinated by his arguments… How reality is appearance… How the world is made up of irrational energy… How art is a temporary release from this world… How painting is a representation of reality as appearance… How the ascetic rejects the suffering of the world by taking control of his own volition.’ Wittgenstein started stammering and shaking as he said this.

‘Are you getting nervous?’ Hitler asked.

‘Yes,’ Wittgenstein as he put down his fork and knife and continued to shake.

‘Well, are you keen on philosophy?’ Hitler asked.

‘Yes,’ Wittgenstein replied, as he wiped the sweat off his brow.

‘Are you keen on music?’ Hitler asked.

‘Yes…’

‘Well, I like Wagner… Perhaps we could go together to see a performance of Tristan and Isolde.’

‘Yes, that would be good,’ Wittgenstein said. ‘Are you a year below me?’

‘No, you are wrong… We are both the same age… You have been put forward a year whilst I have been held back a year… We are the same age.’

Wittgenstein continued to feel nervous and shook. ‘Oh…’ he mumbled.

‘Yes, I like Wagner,’ Hitler continued. ‘I like art because I think that it is an assertion of the national German spirit…’

‘The German spirit?’ Wittgenstein asked.

‘Oh yes… I cannot stand the Habsburg monarchy… It is a degenerate, debased, crumbling institution… I would rather that it all came crumbling down… So as to assert a common Germanic spirit.’ As he said this, his eyes lit up and his arms waved around.

‘Well… The Habsurg empire has been in decline for a long time, but… will it rise up again?’ Wittgenstein tentatively said.

‘No… But I do not care… It will burn to the ground for all I care… I want Germany to expand… to… to assert itself… Bismarck did not go far enough. The whole of the Haburg empire should have been swallowed up a united Germany,’ Hitler asserted.

‘That is a naïve view… The Habsurg monarchy had been more powerful than Prussia for a long time,’ Wittgenstein said.

‘I do not care… I have developed my views… of… of German nationalism… I have read Fichte… Anyway, politics is tangential… I want to be a painter…’ Hitler asserted, banging the table with his fists.

‘Are you good?’ Wittgenstein shyly asked.

‘You bet, but my father does not think so… That is why he sent me to this academy… He wants me to be a bureaucrat, but I want to be a great artist… My father died recently… My grades have deteriorated… But I do not care… I will be a great artist.’ He said, looking directly at Wittgenstein.  

‘So you have been held back a year?’ Wittgenstein asked.

‘Yes, I failed my maths exam multiple times… Otherwise, we would be in the same year,’ Hitler asserted.

‘Fancy that…’

‘Listen, Ludwig,’ Hitler continued. ‘You are a clever chap, you are Jewish, you come from an exceedingly talented background… Yet…’ Hitler said, raising his arms and looking directly at him.

‘Yet?’ Wittgenstein replied, nervously darting his eyes around the room.

‘You will come to see Wagner with me on Saturday…’ Hitler said.

‘Well…’ Wittgenstein once more prevaricated. ‘Well… I have to study formal logic that day… I am working with my tutor… I also want to brush up on calculus… And finish reading Kant’s Critique of Practical Reason…’

‘Well, sod off then you filthy Jew,’ Hilter exclaimed, as he took his food tray with him.

Wittgenstein finished his meat off. His empty plate stood in front of him. The large canteen was also completely empty. He sat alone for a further five minutes, ruminating on the strange exchange which just occurred. He took his empty food tray and left the canteen.

Friday, 5 August 2022

COLLECTED ESSAYS: VOLUME TWO

 I have finished a new book entitled Collected Essays: Volume Two. Copies available for anyone remotely interested. Email simonking19965@gmail.com if you are interested. 


Collected Essays: Volume Two is King’s sixth book and, as the title makes blatantly clear, his second collection of essays. Whilst King is not an expert in anything, he certainly is enthusiastic about an array of different subjects. King takes you on a scattershot adventure that traverses millennia and an incongruous mix of subjects. Do you want to read a book which contains insights into European art films, political philosophy, pre-Socratic philosophy, modernist literature, post-war European history, avant-garde music, the history of ideas, the history of dreams, economic history, New Hollywood cinema and Latin American literature? Well, King might just have the right book for you.

1.       Liberty, Equality and Fraternity: The Ideals of the French Revolution in Krzysztof Kieslowski’s Three Colours Trilogy

2.       Perpetual Flux and Unchanging Singularity: The Ideas of Heraclitus and Parmenides in The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner and Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett 

3.       Social Change in the Heimat Trilogy

4.       Eccentric Musicians

5.       Nascent Liberalism in Antiquity and the Medieval Ages

6.       A Very Brief History of Dream Interpretation

7.       Economic Decline in the Cinema of the 1970s

8.       Imaginary Worlds in Latin American Fiction


Imaginary Worlds in Latin American Fiction

 This is part eight from a forthcoming book called Collected Essays: Volume Two.

**********************

I quote the texts in the original Spanish. This will be harder for non-Spanish speakers (the vast majority of my meagre audience) – apologies.

Imaginary worlds are appealing for a number of reasons. The yearning for alternate worlds goes as far back to antiquity, with the Babylonian Tales of Gilgamesh and in the Greek world with Homer. The real world is often not satisfying and we recourse to imaginary worlds to find respite. Imaginary worlds can disrupt physical laws, be a vehicle for self-realisation and fantasies and they can create a parallel world that creates a microcosm, mirrors our own and comments on the political arena. Latin America has a rich history of literature and it finally rose to international prominence in the 1960s. Latin American fiction has been notorious for its use of fantasy and surrealism and the way in which this is merged with realism. As well as this aspect, it has also been notorious for its political commitment. This essay will look at five authors – the Argentinean writer Jorge Luis Borges, the Argentinean writer Julio Cortázar, the Uruguayan writer Juan Carlos Onetti, the Mexican writer Juan Rulfo and the Chilean writer José Donoso. It will examine the ways in which these authors create imaginary world, their qualities, how they disrupt physical and temporal laws, how they are vehicles for self-realisation and how they comment on politics.

                           Latin America became a major continent in the literary world in the 1960. In the 1960s and 1970s, Latin American writers were in the international spotlight for the first time (Saizar 2000). It was a commercial event, although it did coincide with the writings of ‘great novels.’ Authors like Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Mario Vargas Llosa, Julio Cortázar and Carlos Fuentes sold millions of books and made a deep impression. These books merged fantasy and reality and they were socially conscious. Many critics threw the label ‘magical realism’ around, though it is hard to define. Initially, Jorge Luis Borges wrote many fantastical short stories, though he claimed that even realist literature is fantastic, as it is still artifice (Brestia year, p. 5). Movements which were prevalent in Europe, such as modernism, arrived later in Latin America. Aspects such as stream of consciousness emerged later because those modernist books were translated later. Additionally, fantastical and surrealist elements became almost synonymous with ‘Latin American fiction.’ The most famous example of this would be One Hundred Years of Solitude (1968) by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. These novels often comment on political situations and many of the writers were politically committed. Many supported the Cuban revolution, although many, such as Mario Vargas Llosa, later retracted their support. (He later run for the presidency of Peru on a centre-right ticket.) Magical realism is notoriously hard to define, although some of characteristics include the ‘transgression’ of physical laws and superhuman sensory experiences (Bennette 1999, p. 21). The 1960s and the 1970s were a golden period and these novels were promptly translated into other languages (Saizar, p.11). Exceptional writers worked independently from each other and in different countries (p. 31). The magical realism of Marquez was an act of ‘individual agency,’ although magical realism was interpreted as a portrait of ‘Latin American exceptionalism’ (p. 46). It was an act of individual imagination, but it has since been interpreted as representative of the region (p. 46).



                           This essay will now turn to analyses of three short stories by Jorge Luis Borges. The short story ‘Tlon, Uqbar, Orbis Tertuis’ is set in an ‘idealist’ planet – that is, a planet made up of thought rather than energy and matter. In this planet, language, religion and letters and metaphysics are all idealist (Borges 1944, p. 22). Indeed, a major divide in philosophy for many years was between idealism and empiricism, as the latter argues that sense-perception is dependent on experience. The former is epitomised by George Berkeley who took as it as far as it could go. Berkeley argued that all of reality is the product of the mind and anything that is not encountered by the mind is created by God. Other philosophers did not go this far, such as Immanuel Kant, who mixed idealism and empiricism. The latter strain is epitomised by David Hume who argued that all perception and knowledge is dependent on experience. According to Borges’ story, everything that Berkeley writes about is true in Tlon. It is a series of ‘independent heterogenous acts’ (p. 23). It is temporal, not spatial (p. 23). Perception is wholly mental and nothing happens spatially; everything happens in a temporal way: ‘Los hombres de ese planeta conciben el universe como una series de procesos mentales, que no desenvuelven en el espacio sino de modo sucesivo en el tiempo’ (p. 24). Thought often associates related ideas: ‘La percepción de una humareda en el horizonte, después del campo incendiado y después del cigarillo a medio apagar’ (p. 25). Indeed, materialism is ‘scandalous’ in Tlon (p. 27). However, one school of thought in Tlon rejects the concept of time and they argue that the present is undefined, the future has no reality and the past has no reality (p. 26). In this story, Borges constructs an imaginary world which is based on western metaphysics. The writings of George Berkeley and even sometimes Kant, Hegel and Schopenhauer sometimes seem counterintuitive, but the whole fabric of this planet is made up of thought, perception and ideas.

                           This essay will now look at the short story ‘Las ruinas circulares’ (‘The Circular Ruins’) by Jorge Luis Borges. The short story is about an old sage who goes to a circular temple, sleeps, dreams and creates another human in another temple. It later transpires that he has been dreamed up in another temple by someone else, so this is why the ruins are ‘circular.’ The village that he arrives at is described thusly: ‘Donde el idioma no está contaminado de griego y donde es infrequente la lepra’ (1944, p. 36). The language is ‘uncontaminated’ by Greek, so it is clearly otherworldly, as most European languages are derived from Greek. Borges also writes: ‘Nadie lo vio desambarcar’ (p. 56). This is reminiscent of the old philosophical adage – if no-one saw it, how could it happen? The temple is described thusly: ‘El recinto circular […] tuvo alguna vez el color del fuego y ahora el de ceniza’ (p. 56). It was once active, but it is now perishing and the sage is going to reanimate it and bring it back to life. Indeed, Borges writes: ‘Devoraron los incendios antiguos,’ (p. 56) which clearly shows that the temple was once fully active a long time ago. The sage goes to sleep: ‘Durmio […] sino por determinación de la voluntad’ (p. 56). Sleeping is usually a passive process, but in this case it is a highly active one which requires ‘will’ and ‘determination.’ There have been other temples and other gods which have been burned and killed: ‘Río abajo, las ruinas de otro templo propicio, también de dioses incendiados y muertos’ (p. 56). He wants to dream a man with ‘meticulous integrity’ (p. 56). It is clearly a supernatural project which transcends normal physical laws, as he calls it a ‘magical’ project: ‘Proyecto mágico’ (p. 57). The task of dreaming and sleeping is usually passive, but in this case it is creative. Indeed, it is even called ‘dialectic’: ‘Al principio fueron caóticos, después fueron de naturaleza dialectica’ (p. 57). Dialecticism involves a proposition, another counter-proposition and a synthesis of both arguments. Again, it emphasises that the dream is a proactive, strenuous and intellectual activity. It is a dialectical engagement with ghosts and spirits. Eventually, students start to study his work: ‘Alumnos estudian su doctrina’ (p. 60). His dreams are incoherent and difficult to decipher. He starts to dream his heart: ‘Sono con un corazón que latía’ (p. 60). He ends up creating a human body. He perceives him: ‘Lo percibía, lo vivía’ (p. 61). He creates his heart and lungs and the rest of his body (p. 61). His son is born in an identical circular temple. However, he realises that he is just a projection: ‘Descubriera de algún modo su condición de mero simulacro’ (p. 64). He realises that, conversely, he has also been dreamed by another sage in another temple: ‘No ser un hombre, ser la proyección del sueno de otro hombre. […] También era una apariencia, que otro estaba sonandolo’ (p. 64). The whole story is about dreaming and about creating another human, but it transpires that he is been dreamt by another magician. This is why the story is about ‘circular’ ruins. The process is called ‘dialectical,’ but although he is on his own dreaming, he is interacting with ghostly figments. Dreaming is an active, creative, determined and willed process in this case, although he does describe it as ‘incoherent.’ This imaginary world is oneiric, but there are also allusions to magic and sorcery. It is surrealistic and fantastic and there are no traces of the real world whatsoever, which is unlike the ‘magical realism’ of Marquez.  



                           ‘The Aleph’ is one of Borges’ most famous stories and this essay will now look at it. The protagonist’s wife has been dead for many years and he visits her brother every year so that they can discuss poetry. This character has an ‘aleph’ in the basement of his house. This device contains all points in space in the universe, seen from all angles: ‘Uno de los puntos del espacio que contienen todos los puntos’ (p. 187) […] Todos los lugares del orbe, visto desde todos los angulos’ (p. 188). Naturally, the character thinks that this is crazy. Retrospectively, he says that language cannot describe the experience: ‘Cómo transmitir a los otros el infinito Aleph, que mi temerosa memoria apenas abarca?’ (p. 188). The Aleph is a tiny sphere (p. 188) in which everything is an infinite number of things. The Aleph is constant breadth, expansion, multiplicity and infinity. The character describes all the things that he sees in a very long sentence that goes on for a couple of pages:

‘Vi la noche y el día contemporaneo (p. 193) […] Vi a los sobrevivientes de una batalla. […] Vi a todas las hormigas que hay en la tierra […] Vi convexos equatoriales y cada uno de sus granos de arena […] Vi la circulación de mi oscura carne […]’ (p. 193).

The sphere contains all points in time and space and Borges describes the experience over a long paragraph. Unlike the other two stories that this essay looked at, it starts off realistically, but it veers off into fantasy. ‘The Aleph’ is a reference to the Arabic alphabet, in which the first letter contains all of the other letters. It is an imaginary world and it is almost a microcosm within the story. In the beginning of the story, Borges has a Shakespeare quote from Hamlet: ‘Oh God, I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space.’ The whole story is about infinite space bound in a small object. The story is also short – it is not a novel – and it describes something vast and infinite. Indeed, Borges never wrote a novel and considered a lot of novels superfluous.



                           Julio Cortázar also wrote short stories and they are also classics within the genre. Cortázar wrote highly surrealistic and absurd stories which defy interpretation. This essay will now look at three of his stories and it will start with ‘Carta a una senorita en París.’ The story is about a character who vomits rabbits. He writes: ‘Me duele ingresar en un orden cerrado, construido’ (1951, p. 19). He cannot enter a closed and constructed order, but the whole story thrives on disorder and the unexpected. The story is written as a letter to the owner of the flat and she is in Paris. He is actually writing the letter because of the bunny rabbits, ‘los conejitos.’ He writes: ‘Todo es higienico, transcurre en un brevisimo instante. Saco todos los dedos de la boca, y en ellos traigo sujecto por las orejas a un conejito blanco’ (p. 19). This is a quick and hygienic process in which jerks out a white rabbit. Eventually, he decides to kill the bunnies, but he does not do it. He writes: ‘De día duermen. Hay diez. De día duermen’ (p. 22). They come out at night and wreck the entire flat: ‘El destrozo insalvable de su casa’ (p. 27). They break the curtains, the chairs, paintings on the wall, leave the carpet full of hair and they keep shrieking (p. 27). This story is highly oneiric, as the bunnies come out at night and they are possibly a metaphor for the unconscious being let loose. The story is completely surreal, bizarre, jarring, surprising, absurdist and quite humorous as well. It is similar to surrealism in other art forms, such as Luis Bunuel in film and Salvador Dalí in painting.



                           This story will now look at Cortázar’s short story ‘Continuidad de los parques.’ The story is about a businessman who reads a novel during the weekend. The short story ends with the characters in the novel becoming real and the protagonist ends up in his living room. Indeed, he wants to read the novel, but he has abandoned it because he is so busy at work: ‘Había empezado a leer la novela unos días antes, pero la abandono por negocios urgentes’ (p. 13). He wants to read the novel in his leisure time, he is very wealthy and he has a butler. In this context, reading the novel is an act of escapism from a busy schedule. He reads the book in the tranquillity of his study: ‘Volvío al libro en la tranquilidad del estudio’ (p. 13). He is immersed in the novel: ‘La ilusión novelesca lo gano en seguida’ (p. 13). The story describes a woman with a lover and she leaves him and walks towards the house. She carries a knife. Cortázar describes the house, which is quiet and empty. The dogs do not bark and the butler is not in. She goes into the room and discovers a man reading a novel. He describes the room: ‘La puerta del salón, y entonces el punal en la mano, la luz de los ventanales’ (p. 13). She finds the character reading his novel: ‘La cabeza del hombre en el sillón leyendo una novela’ (p. 13). The man reads the book and imagines the story until the woman arrives at his house where he is reading. The story is self-referential meta-fiction, as it refers to itself. The man reads a book and the story comes to life in the world that he is living in. It is an act of escapism from his busy schedule, but the work of fiction becomes real. It is set in the real world, but the story recreates the subjectivity of reading and the emotional reactions that it provokes. The act of reading is a subjective mental experience, but in this case it becomes palpably real. The implication is that he is going to get murdered, as she is carrying a dagger. 

                           This essay will now look at Cortázar’s short story ‘Axolotl.’ The protagonist looks at an aquarium full of fish in a zoo and ends up becoming a fish. He writes: ‘Quadaba horas mirándolos. […] Ahora soy un axolotl’ (p. 151). He writes that he has a connection with the fish: ‘Estábamos vinculados’ (p. 151). There is something unfathomable which links the fish with the protagonist of the story: ‘Que algo infinitamente perdido y distante seguia sin embargo uniendonos’ (p.152). They have golden eyes and they look at the man who stares into the aquarium, as he scrutinises their body and face. He writes: ‘Abolir el tiempo y el espacio con una inmovilidad indiferente’ (p. 153). They abolish time and space with their ‘indifferent mobility.’ Once more, the story is highly subjective and the character loses his sense of time and space. He writes that their eyes are similar to human eyes: ‘Diversos peses me mostraban la simple estupidez de sus hermosos ojos semejante a los nuestros’ (p. 153). They show him another way of looking at things: ‘Me decian de la presencia de una vida diferente, de otra manera de mirar’ (p. 154). The character is entranced in his heightened subjectivity, as he thinks about a different way of living whilst he glues his head to the glass. Indeed, the guard of the zoo is disconcerted by his strange behaviour (p. 154). He eventually becomes one of the fish: ‘Antes de ser axolotl’ (p. 154). There is a sense of anthropomorphism here, but it is inverted. In anthropomorphism, the animals acquire human characteristics, but in this case the human acquires animal characteristics. However, he does write that they evince human characteristics: ‘Si piensan como los hombres, sera porque los axolotl piensan como hombres’ (p. 157). Cortázar spoke about ‘fisulas’ in interviews, which are surreal and fantastical moments which transcend the mundane and which surprise us. The character looks at an aquarium and becomes transfixed by the fish and becomes one of them. Again, the story is very subjective and it is all about his interior experience.



                           Juan Carlos Onetti was one of the precursors of ‘the boom’ and his stories mingled fantasy and reality. His novel La Vida Breve (1950) (A Brief Life) is about a man who keeps a scenario in his draw at work. He ends up living inside it, in a place called ‘Santa María.’ The last chapter of the novel takes place in that imaginary world. In this world, there is nothing surreal or supernatural. Cortázar’s stories have surreal elements in them, but they often – as in ‘Axolotl’ and ‘Continuidad de los parques’ – describe subjective experiences in the real world. Onetti’s ‘Santa María’ takes place in a mythical/parallel reality, but there is nothing supernatural about it. Indeed, the writing is almost naturalistic: ‘El negocio está ahora abierto y el sol ilumina las narices, los bigotes, las telas sedosas del escaparate’ (p. 404). He refers to a character that he is infatuated with as ‘Ustéd’ and English character as ‘Inglés.’ It is an imaginary world that reinforces his own preferences, predilections and he does not have to bestow other people with names. It is mostly comprised of subjective descriptions of what happens: ‘Usted examina los vestidos. […] tan rapidamente que mis ojos confunden los colores’ (p. 405). Although Santa María is a fictional parallel world, there are still references to real cities. Santa María is posited between Buenos Aires and Montevidoe and is in some ways a composite of both. Additionally, this imaginary world is still imbued with political slogans: ‘Un largo paredon donde han pintado leyendas politicas con altas letras blancas’ (p. 423). Additionally, this chapter is subjective, it is from the first person and it has a lot of interior monologues which ruminate about other characters. Everything seems to be an amorphous blur and it is not clearly defined: ‘Confudimos calles, risas, músicas, faroles’ (p. 424). He does not reply to the greetings of strangers called Albano since, like the streets, most of the people inhabiting Santa María are not concretely defined and most people are called Albano. He describes a scene thusly: ‘En una plazoleta de barrio, sin estatuatas ni verja, con un enorme pino central’ (p. 427). The park does not have statues and just one giant tree. Once more, the imaginary world is not as concretely defined as the real world. He walks with a woman aimlessly: ‘Alcanzamos la esquina y remontamos la desierta calle arbolada, sin huir de nadie, sin buscar ningún encuentro, arrastrando un poco los pies, más por felicidad que por cansancio’ (p, 428). He finds meaning with a woman and he creates an imaginary world about finding serenity and happiness. This imaginary world is not as surrealistic as Cortázar, but although it is set in a parallel world it has more realistic elements. Although it has more realistic elements, few characters are given names and the surroundings are sketchy.



                           Like Onetti, Juan Rulfo was a precursor to the Boom and he was also a big influence on these writers. In the novel Pedro Páramo (1955), the character Juan Preciado goes to a town called Comala. His mother, on her death bed, tells him to go there because his father Pedro Páramo lives there. As soon as he gets there, he finds that Comala is a ghost town and that all of its inhabitants are dead. The novel jumps about in time and chronicles Comala and the autocratic reign of Pedro Páramo. When he gets there, he is told that no-one lives there: ‘Aquí no vive nadie’ (p. 13). He is told that Pedro Páramo has been dead for years: ‘Pedro Páramo murio hace varios anos’ (p. 13). It is an imaginary world and, additionally, the novel is not linear and jumps about in time. The novel takes place in a ghost town in which all the characters are dead. As such, a universal clock is lost. It creates an imaginary world in which the political world is mirrored. Pedro Páramo represents a Latin American ‘caudillo,’ an autocratic tyrant who imposes his will on the population. Rulfo also recreates the rural poverty that had been endemic in Latin America. He describes events in different moments in time. Water is a recurring motif: ‘En el hidrante las gotas caen una tras otra’ (p. 29). In one scene, a character wakes up and Rulfo describes how he wakes up: ‘Adormecido, plastado por el peso del sueno’ (p. 29). This has an oneiric quality to it. Rulfo does not describe the physical characteristics of his characters; they are all vague and ghost-like: ‘Vio cara de una mujer oscura recotrada contra el marco de la puerta, oscurecida todavía por la noche, sollozando’ (p. 30). She says: ‘Tú padre ha muerto’ (p. 30). He says: ‘Y a ti quien te mató, madre’ (p. 30). It is a dream-like environment, as the character wakes up from dreaming. The son has to remind her that she, too, is dead. Everyone is dead and death is omnipresent. There is a sense that families are perishing and there is a lot of talk about parents, mothers and dying. There is a sense of history, families and lineages coming to an end, but it is all in a perpetual stand-still as they are all perpetual ghosts. In another scene, revolutionaries want to kill Pedro Páramo and aim to take possession of his land. Tartamudo, a humble peasant with a stutter talks to the autocratic strongman. Pedro Páramo asserts himself: ‘Y qué esperas? Por qué not te mueves? Anda y diles a esos que estoy para que se les ofrezca. Que vengan a tratar conmigo’ (p. 101). He is clearly an authoritarian leader who will deal with anyone and he is willing to deal with subversive revolutionaries. He is also willing to use harsh methods in dealing with them. He asserts his authority over Comala, a fictional town that clearly resembles many Latin American places. At one point in the novel, Pedro Páramo says: ‘We are the law’ (p. 105). There is no law constraining him and there are no checks and balances. Rulfo creates a world in which there is no universal clock because all the characters are dead. Themes of death, decay, ghostliness, familes and lineages are present. Rulfo also recreates the political environment, with its rampant poverty and its authoritarian leaders asserting themselves.



                           This essay will now look at El obsceno pájaro de la noche (1970) (The Obscene Bird of Night) by José Donoso, possibly one of the strangest novels ever written anywhere, let alone this time and period. The novel is about a schizophrenic character called ‘Mudito’ (‘Mutey’) who is assistant at a care home, a law student, assistant to an aristocrat, an aspiring writer and he oversees a castle of monsters. The novel flits through all of these perspectives. Together with the maid Peta Ponce, they conceive the mutant child ‘Boy’ in an act of witchcraft. His father, the aristocrat Azcoíta, is repelled by him and transfers him to a castle of mutants so that he grows up in a normal world. Additionally, Mudito likes to get into sacks and a co-worker at a care home, Inés, who is always pregnant, carries him around like a baby. The whole novel is bizarre, oneiric and surreal. There is one striking scene when the monsters operate on Mudito so as to turn him into a monster. All of the monsters drag him away: ‘Sus deformidades como si no tuvieran verguenza de ellas’ (p. 271). In this parallel world, the monsters are normal and Mudito is the exception, so they are not ashamed of their deformities. They never leave the castle, but Mudito can: ‘No sale nunca de la Rinconada […] no pueden salir, como yo tengo permiso para salir’ (p. 271). Mudito flits in and out of this castle of monsters. The paragraphs are very long and, as they are stream of consciousness, they capture Mudito’s warped thinking and he is clearly psychotic. In this warped world, being a normal human is in itself strange. These monsters find him disgusting: ‘Demasiado asqueroso […] asquerados de mi persona’ (p. 272). They want to complete a blood transfusion on him and put monstruous blood into Mudito. Mudito says: ‘Me estan monstroficando’ (p. 272). This translates as ‘they monstrofying me’ and Donoso employs a neologism here. The blood comes from different monsters and they have different qualities: ‘Como si tuvieran sabores distintos que reconozco’ (p. 273). He loses his form: ‘He perdido mi forma’ (p. 273). They completely change who he is: ‘Me deforma hasta que ya no soy yo’ (p. 273). He is no longer Humberto Penaloza and loses his identity: ‘Me están quitando la identitad’ (p. 275). Indeed, a major theme in the novel is how the self is annulled and how individuals have to assume different social roles in different situations. Mudito has so many different social roles that he is schizophrenic. In this particular instance, monsters take away his identity by turning him into one of them. Mudito writes that he has never really had a stable identity: ‘Además ya no soy quien fui si es que algúna vez fui alguien’ (p. 275). They have completely annulled his identity, but Mudito assumes so many social roles in so many different situations that he wonders whether he ever really had one in the first place. This is clearly a psychotic hallucination and the castle of monsters is clearly a figment of his imagination. This imaginary world is created in the novel by the aristocrat Azcoíta because he wants his mutant son to grow up in a world in which he is not a freak. This imaginary world is completely surrealistic, bizarre and comedic, but it is also an interior monologue and a stream of consciousness. It is also the record of a psychotic and disorganised mind.   

                           Borges disrupts physical laws in ‘The Aleph,’ but his stories are also set in parallel realities with their own physical laws. ‘Tlon’ is a mythological planet based on metaphysical idealist philosophy. ‘Tlon’ and ‘Ruins’ are parallel worlds, but they are self-enclosed and do not comment on the political world. Cortázar disrupts physical laws, such as in the story about vomiting rabbits, but they describe subjective experiences. They are often a vehicle for self-realisation, as in ‘Axolotl’ in which the character becomes a fish. Cortázar is often oblique and the three stories that this essay looked at do not have political commentary. Onetti breaks physical laws, as Santa María is the product is the product of the protagonist’s mind, though the territory does not break physical laws. It is definitely a vehicle for self-realisation, as the character keeps a screenplay in his draw and ends up living it. He populates it with women that he finds attractive. It is a parallel world, but it has echoes of Buenos Aires and Montevideo. In Juan Rulfo, the novel disrupts temporal laws, as all the characters are dead and the novel jumps about in time. The novel is a parallel world and it comments on the political realm. The eponymous character embodies the autocratic ‘caudillo’ and there are depictions of revolutionaries. The novel by José Donoso disrupts physical laws, as a girl is always pregnant, there is a castle of mutants and Mudito is turned into a mutant. In many ways, there are aspects of self-realisation as these are all Mudito’s hallucinations. He has to be a lawyer, even though he wants to be a writer. He has to serve the aristocrat Azcoíta and he gets shot trying to save him. In many ways, these fantasies are a form of psychotic self-realisation since he is deeply repressed. The novel does have political commentary, since the maid Peta Ponce is part of an underclass and controls the upper crust. Azcoíta is a wealthy aristocrat and he is dependent on many people such as Mudito to serve him, so this comments on Chile’s class-divided society. The protagonist always assumes different personalities depending on the social context and he is schizophrenic as a result. These are all the ways that these Latin American writers create imaginary worlds.    

Works Cited

Bennett, Caroline Jane. (1999) The Politics and the Poetics of Latin American Magical Realism. PhD thesis for University of London.

                           Borges, Jorge Luis. (1949) El aleph. Madrid: Alianza editorial.

                           Borges, Jorge Luis. (1944) Ficciones. Madrid: Alianza editorial.

   Brescia, Pablo. (2008) A. J. ‘A Superior Magic: Literary Politics and the Rise of the Fantastic in Latin American Fiction.’ In Scholar   Commons. 4.

               Cortázar, Julio. (1956). Final del juego. Madrid: Alfaguara.

                           Cortázar, Julio. (1951) Bestiario. Madrid: Punto de lectura.

                           Donoso, José. (1970) El obsceno pájaro de la noche. Santiago: Alfaguara.

                           Onetti, Juan Carlos. (1950) La vida breve. Barcelona: Edhasa.

                           Rulfo, Juan. (1955) Pedro Páramo. Barcelona: Editorial Planeta.

   Sáizar, Consuelo. (2021) ‘Constructing Hegemony: The Latin American Boom and the Book Industries of Spain and Mexico: 1963-1967.’ PhD thesis for the University of Cambridge.

Tuesday, 13 October 2020

Brown

 Winamop has published my short story 'Brown,' which is about Gordon Brown. Here's the description on the website: 'Simon King revisits 2008, the year of the (last) financial crash. What was going on in the corridors of power? Well, in Downing Street.. Find out in Brown.' http://www.winamop.com/sk2004.htm

Part eleven of Fifteen Characters: Loners and Altruists

Sunday, 4 October 2020

Fifteen Characters: Loners and Altruists


I have finished my 5th book, a collection of short stories called 'Fifteen Characters: Loners and Altruists.' 20 copies available for anyone who's remotely interested. (Well, there are only 4 copies left actually...)


There have been many loners in history. They might have been wracked by guilt and anxieties, but they have also produced some of the greatest and most innovative ideas and works of art. In King’s fifth book, he delves into the thought processes of introverted artists, philosophers, chess players and football managers. King chooses one pivotal event in their lives and brings it to life. This thin book also looks at altruists – that is, people who thought that they could make the world a better, fairer and more just place. King’s latest book covers a variety of figures across millennia and across a wide and disparate range of fields. It is packed with both facts and psychological insight. Read it!

Send an email to simonking19965@gmail.com if you would like a copy.

Edward Heath
Charles Crumb
Charlie Parker
Edgard Varese
Marcelo Bielsa
Bobby Fischer
Clement Attlee
Meister Eckhart
Otto von Bismarck
Ferdinand Lassalle
Diogenes
Hannah Arendt
Gordon Brown
Karlheinz Stockhausen

Thursday, 17 September 2020

Arendt

 Winamop has published my short story 'Arendt,' which is about political philosopher Hannah Arendt. Here's the description on the website: 'Simon King looks back into the lives of historical figures. This time it's Hannah Arendt, a German born political thinker who was present at one of the many post-war trails of Nazi war criminals. This trial was of Adolf Eichmann, an SS official who contributed to the murder of thousands of Jews. Why did he do it? Read Arendt.'


Part eleven of a forthcoming book called' Fifteen Characters: Loners and Altruists.'


http://winamop.com/sk2003.htm

Tuesday, 18 August 2020

Diogenes

 Winamop has published my short story 'Diogenes,' which is about the ancient Greek philosopher Diogenes. Here's the description on the website: Simon King takes a peek into the life of the ancient Greek philosopher Diogenes, originator of the school of cynicism. A colourful character! 


Part ten of a forthcoming book called 'Fifteen Characters: Loners and Altruists.' 

 http://winamop.com/sk2002.htm

Sunday, 21 June 2020

Perpetual Flux and Unchanging Singularity: The Ideas of Heraclitus and Parmenides in William Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury and Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot


Perpetual Flux and Unchanging Singularity: The Ideas of Heraclitus and Parmenides in William Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury and Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot
Part two of a forthcoming book called Collected Essays: Volume Two.

The pre-Socratic philosophers are often seen as the start of western philosophy and knowledge. Thinkers like Heraclitus and Parmenides preceded Jesus Christ by some five-hundred years. They looked at ontological and metaphysical issues, which we still think about today. Indeed, Heraclitus’ ideas on change have been compared with Einstein’s discoveries in relativity (Kim 2017, p. 28). Heraclitus emphasised how things always change. Additionally, he had aphoristic insights on ‘the logos’ and as to how we have to use our reason. Although he spoke about fire being the causal factor of everything, which might make him seem like a unitarian, he wrote about clashing opposites and how they create change. Meanwhile, Parmenides claimed that everything that we see has to come out of something and that something cannot come out of nothing. This led him to the extreme view that nothing changes at all and that we live in a continuous present and he thought that there was no creation and no end to the world. This essay will use these ideas in dealing with close readings of two seminal modernist texts – the novel The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner (1929) and the play Waiting for Godot (1953) by Samuel Beckett. Faulkner used stream of consciousness and interior monologues and his novel covers many points in time and space. Everything is in a constant state of flux and, like many other examples of stream of consciousness, he makes associations between many different things. As such, this essay will compare the novel with Heraclitus’ views on the perpetual flux and it will compare the novel with Heraclitus’ views on the Logos and clashing opposites. On the other hand, Waiting for Godot is situated in the same point in space. The characters joke as to how immobile they are and how so little happens. This essay will apply ideas on ‘what-is’ and the ‘unchanging singularity’ to close readings of the play.
This essay will start by looking at Heraclitus’ views on the underlying unity of the world, which he called ‘the Logos.’ The ‘Logos’ is a multifarious term which was used by many philosophers from ancient Greece and it was integral to Heraclitus’ philosophy. For Heraclitus, it was a principle that created the whole of reality. According to the Logos, there is harmony in the world and there is an underlying rational principle which explains the natural world (Waterfield 2000, p. 32). There is an underlying unity to things and it is divine (p. 33). The whole world is intelligent and alive, it speaks to the wise man and it communicates itself to wise sages like Heraclitus (p. 32). The truth, for Heraclitus, is only accessible through divine understanding; that is, an understanding which exists beyond the natural world (p. 33). Humans live as if they are asleep and they are not aware of it and, although they are not aware of it, the Logos is accessible to everyone, but we fail to see it (p. 33). Indeed, Heraclitus states the following in one of his remaining fragments: ‘Things keep their secrets’ (2003, p. 9). The Logos, the truth of all things, is universally apprehensible (p. 33). The appreciation of things is like the underlying harmony; it requires reflection, not just naïve reliance on the senses (p. 33). As such, Heraclitus casts doubt on the senses and their ability to explain the natural world (p. 33). The data supplied by the senses requires judicious assessment (p. 33). However, Heraclitus places more emphasis on introspection than wide learning and disparages thinkers like Pythagoras for this (p. 33).

            This essay will now examine how the characters perceive the underlying nature of things in the final third person chapter, the chapter narrated by Benjy and Quentin. The final chapter takes place in a church, it is narrated in third person and it is preceded by three viscerally subjective chapters. God might possibly be the closest thing in their society to the Greek Logos, as God is meant to be an omnipresent entity who overlooks all of nature and is only accessible via divine understanding. The church also creates bonds of community amongst the Afro-American and white communities: ‘Thinks he ain’t good enough fer white church, but nigger church ain’t good enough fer him’ (Faulkner 1929, p. 246). The church creates these bonds, but its followers also try to access a divine order. They go to a space where they can come into contact with a divine entity which controls outcomes: ‘Serene, tortured crucifix that transcended its shabbiness and insignificance. (…) Yes, Jesus!’ (Faulkner, 249). Also, the material world is imperfect, as the crucifix ‘transcends’ its ‘shabbiness,’ which suggests that the raw materials fail to approximate its grands significance. Additionally, Heraclitus claimed that we are sleepers who need to wake up and use our reason. This is similar to a lot of Christian rhetoric, as many preachers talk about being ‘awakened,’ ‘redemption’ and ‘born again’: ‘O sinner? I see de resurrection en de light. […] Ye shall live again’ (p. 252). Heraclitus’ awakening involved the use of reason whereas this kind of Christian language is very emotive. Heraclitus was an elitist whilst the characters in this church, and many of Faulkner’s writings, are illiterate and poorly educated. Indeed, the first chapter of the novel is narrated by Benjy who is mentally challenged. Benjy cannot speak, read or write. As such, he relies on his senses and does not use his reason to observe the world. Interestingly, he is also obsessed with fire, one of the central aspects of Heraclitus’ thought.
            The main component of Heraclitus’ thought is the idea of the ‘perpetual flux.’ Although he spoke about the world having an underlying harmony, Heraclitus stressed the flux of things rather than their stability (Waterfield, p. 33). Everything is in a constant state of flux, which is why he opposed unitarians such as Parmenides (p. 34). There is an underlying unity, which he calls the Logos, but this underlying unity occurs at a deeper level (p. 34). On the surface, everything is changing all the time. He has a famous metaphor about a river and how you can never step into it twice: ‘The river where you set your foot just now is gone – those waters giving way to this, now this’ (Heraclitus 2003, p. 27). He states the following in another fragment: ‘Just as the river where I step is not the same, and is, so I am as am not’ (p. 51). Dying and living things are a single continuum and they are all relative to each other (p. 34). Although Heraclitus speaks about a physical flux, he also speaks about an epistemic flux (p. 34). That is, everything changes in the natural world, but the world of knowledge is also always in a state of perpetual motion. Although Heraclitus claimed that everything was always changing, we needed to use our reason, wake up from our sleeping state and look at the underlying unity of things (p. 34). Like other pre-Socratic philosophers, Heraclitus claimed that there was one element that caused everything in the natural world and for Heraclitus this fire was this element. For Thales, possibly the earliest pre-Socratic philosopher, water was the primary element. Everything is in a state of perpetual flux, but fire, the casual factor of everything, always stays the same, partly because it preserves life through warmth (p. 34). He also thought that it was a divine property from the heavens (p. 34).   
            The first two chapters in The Sound and the Fury jump across large periods in space and time. As such, they are similar to Heraclitus’ ‘perpetual flux.’ The first chapter is centred around Benjy, who has severe learning difficulties. Benjy’s mind jumps across several different points in time, presumably due to his mental condition. The font changes from roman numerals to italics so as to signal this, which is jarring for the reader. Additionally, Faulkner makes no attempt to contextualise each episode and this makes things more difficult for the reader. Heraclitus spoke about a physical flux and an epistemic flux, but this chapter is primarily comprised of a mental flux. Everything is indeed in a constant state of flux, but this does not occur in a linear way. Time constantly jumps backwards and forwards in time and different memories are usually ignited by certain feelings. A memory usually appears when he sees a particular object or smells something. For instance, he thinks of his sister Caddy when he sees a fence, as he used to spend time with her there: ‘We went along the fence and came to the garden fence, where our shadows were. […] We came to the broken place and went through it’ (p. 2). This reminds him of his sister Caddy: ‘Caddy uncaught me and we crawled through’ (p. 2). He once more thinks of his sister Caddy when his hands get frozen. Once this happens, time shifts to a peculiar sentence: ‘Caddy smelled like trees’ (p. 4). This section is also similar to Heraclitus’ fragment about not being able to step in the same river twice, as memories are constantly being revisited and they acquire new resonances each time Benjy experiences something new. On another occasion, a black character called T. P. talks about the fence: ‘You can’t do no good, moaning and slobbering through the fence’ (p. 42). This instigates a memory of his father talking about the gate: ‘How did you get out, father said. Did you leave the gate when you came in, Jason’ (p. 42). T. P. is also a figure of authority and he jumbles him up with his father, another figure of authority. Similarly, he thinks that he might see his sister Caddy when he sees a group of girls near the fence. Caddy has left the house years ago, but he thinks that she might be with them, even though she would have aged since then: ‘“I’m scared to cross the street.” “He can’t get out.” They came on. I opened the gate and stopped. […] They were going up the hill where it fell away.’ Of course, as Heraclitus claimed, time always changes, but Benjy does not grasp this due to his condition.

            Having examined Benjy’s section, this essay will now examine how Heraclitus’ ideas on the perpetual flux come through in Quentin’s section. By contrast, Quentin is a highly literate and educated character, but his section also includes fragmented, cryptic and idiosyncratic language. Faulkner attempts to recreate his mental breakdown, so he uses stream of consciousness, run-on sentences and unpunctuated sentences. Everything is indeed changing Quentin’s mind; it is once again a mental flux. Interestingly, he has ruminations on the nature of time: ‘An apotheosis in which a temporary state of mind will become symmetrical above the flesh and aware of both itself’ (Faulkner, p. 150). Similarly, he also writes: ‘Natural events and their causes which shadows every mans brow even Benjys and you not thinking of finitude you are contemplating…’ (p. 150). Here he writes about natural events and how time progresses differently for different people. There are natural laws and there is a universal clock, but humans often perceive this through a subjective prism. Certain moments seem to an ‘apotheosis’ and seem to stand apart from other perhaps more mundane moments. Benjy often fixates on certain memories to the detriment of others, for example. Faulkner uses stream of consciousness and the continuous unpunctuated sentences try to capture the way that we think. Indeed, we do not often think in paragraphs and grammatically correct sentences. We also associate different things together. Maurice Ebeleen writes that stream of consciousness lays bare the inner thoughts of characters and stops them from evading unpleasant truths: ‘Stream of consciousness narrative mode evacuates authoritative narration who may meditate, mediate and re-envision the characters’ experiences from a privileged position’ (2014). Indeed, Quentin thinks about different points in time and juxtaposes them within a single protracted sentence: ‘Let us sell Benjy’s pasture so that Quentin may go to Harvard, and I may knock my bones to go together’ (p. 147). Time also encapsulates everything. He quotes his father when he first gives him his watch: ‘I give you the mausoleum of all hope and desire. […] gain the reducto absurdum of all human experience’ (p. 63). Everyone lives within a universal clock, but time can also be mental and subjective, which led to Immanuel Kant claiming that the perception of time is a priori, as it precedes experience (Janiak 2016). Although the perception of time is mental and subjective, everyone it experiences it together, which is what Quentin’s father calls ‘all human experience.’ This is a universal clock, but Quentin’s father emphasises how it is perceived in a particular way by an individual: ‘fit your individual needs no better than it fitted his or her father’s’ (p. 63). However, although there is such a thing as objective time, the subjective memory is selective as to what it remembers: ‘I give it to you not that you may remember time, but that you might forget it’ (p. 63). Time is always changing in an endless perpetual flux, but it is possible for the subjective mind to wander off and detach itself from it: ‘I don’t suppose anybody ever deliberately listens to a watch or a clock. You don’t have to. You can be oblivious to the sound for a long while, then in a second of blinking it can create in the mind unbroken the long diminished time you didn’t hear’ (p. 63). Indeed, time is always changing, but subjective perception is not always in harmony with it. Time is a priori and mental, as Kant would have it, but the perception of time is still intelligible to all of us and he calls this ‘the transcendental apperception’ (Janiak). Additionally, the subjective perception of time is different every time. Moments in the universal clock can feel shorter or longer depending on the individual, which refies the dynamic nature of time. Indeed, this is in keeping with Heraclitus’ view that you can never step into the same river twice: ‘I suppose it takes at least one hour to lose time in, who has been longer than history getting into the mechanical progression of it’ (p. 69). Quentin’s mind is indeed also in a perpetual flux and the deteriorating syntax represents his fragile mental state. Interestingly, Maurice Ebileen writes that Faulkner’s use of stream of consciousness is reminiscent of psychosis (2014). Unlike Benjy, he looks at the underlying nature of things – what Heraclitus would call the Logos – and has ruminations on the nature of time, which are in some cases similar to Heraclitus’ philosophy.
Finally, the other central component of Heraclitus’ thought is the idea of opposites. Heraclitus thought that clashing opposites caused the perpetual flux, but these opposites were heterogenous and they were commensurable with each other. This was also consistent with the idea of fire being the causal factor of everything, since although it preserves warmth it can also be highly destructive (Waterfield, p. 34). Opposites tend to go in different directions, but they are essential to each other. Indeed, he states the following: ‘From the strain of binding opposites comes harmony’ (Heraclitus 2003, p. 46). He uses the bow as a metaphor for this idea: ‘The cosmos works by harmony and tensions, like the lyre and bow’ (2003, p. 37). This tension might also suggest that there is an underlying order and unity in the world beneath the perpetual flux (p. 34). Indeed, many of Heraclitus’ arguments are consistent with this idea of clashing opposites. These opposites include perpetual flux/hidden stability, war/peace, strife/harmony and sleepers/enlightened rationalists (p. 37).
 The Sound and the Fury is similar to this, as it includes three sections which are narrated by very different characters. Quentin, Benjy and Jason have very different temperaments and writing styles. They have clashed with each other because they are family, but they are interdependent despite this conflict. Indeed, Stancey Burton writes the following: ‘All three authors in the novel complement each other in various ways’ (2001, p. 610). In Benjy’s case, his sense of time is skewed due to his mental condition, but his use of language is also highly idiosyncratic and defamiliarizing. Idiosyncratic means that there is a habit that is peculiar to that person whilst defamiliarization involves presenting normal things in a strange way. Benjy cannot even speak let alone write, but Faulkner deliberately writes in this idiosyncratic way so as to capture his way of thinking. He speaks about his sister smelling like trees and he later describes smelling the cold: ‘I could smell the cold flapping’ (p. 10). Benjy’s use of language is peculiar, as he does not know how to even differentiate between smells, particular objects or climates. It is peculiar to claim to ‘smell the cold’ or for his sister Caddy ‘to smell like trees.’ It is defamiliarizing, as it takes things we already know and presents them in an unusual way. Additionally, the reader might not be entirely familiar with Benjy’s condition when he starts reading this section of the book. Indeed, the reader is immediately confronted with very unusual language in the first chapter: ‘I could see them hitting. They were coming toward where the flag was and I went along the fence. Luster was hunting in the grass by the flower tree. They took the flag out, and they went to the table, and he hit and the other hit. Then they went on, and I went along the fence’ (p. 1). Benjy is describing golfing, but he does not know what golfing is, or its terminology, due to his mental condition. Once more, the language is idiosyncratic and defamiliarizing. The writing style is quite episodic, detached and fragmented, which once more emphasises his limited cognitive abilities.
            This essay will examine Quentin’s use of language and his temperament and consider how he is the opposite of Benjy. Quentin, by contrast, is quite philosophical: ‘The field only reveals to man his own folly and despair, and victory is an illusion of philosophers and fools’ (p. 63). He also writes about ‘constant speculation’ (p. 64). Benjy recounts surface level emotion and he uses peculiar language. Benjy has not even been socialised and does not have the cognitive ability so as to speak, learn, read or think. Quentin, meanwhile, offers philosophical ruminations on ontology and the nature of time. Benjy’s writing is episodic; he writes in a fragmented way. He writes in the following way: ‘and then… and then…’ However, Quentin’s style is more fluid, but his style becomes more fragmented and detached once his mental health deteriorates. His lexical choices are much more sophisticated and he uses complicated metaphors: ‘reducto absurdum’ (p. 63), ‘impervious shadow’ (p. 80), ‘affinity for evil’ (p. 80), ‘ubiquitous and garrulous’ (p. 81). However, his style becomes increasingly idiosyncratic as his mental health deteriorates: ‘Watching pennies more stars than Jews’ (p. 151). The later sections of this chapter have no punctuation, have run-on sentences and different ideas are enmeshed within the same sentence. Quentin is introspective and he is a Harvard student whilst Benjy is ‘an idiot full of sound and fury.’ Both chapters use stream of consciousness and interior monologues and reveal the interiority of the characters, but they portray different people. They are brothers and they are obsessed with their sister Caddy. As Heraclitus noted, opposites clash with each other, but they complement each other and develop each other. Both characters grew up together and had a formative influence on their character.
            The third chapter in the book is devoted to the character Jason. He is unpleasant and vitriolic by temperament and his use of language is colloquial and steeped in the vernacular of southern USA. Benjy and Quentin often use idiosyncratic language, such as ‘I saw them hitting’ and ‘Caddy smelled like trees.’ By contrast, Quentin uses more refined language, but it becomes more idiosyncratic. However, Jason has clearly been more socialised and his use of language reflects his local culture. Benjy has not been socialised at all due to his cognitive impairment whilst Quentin is more literary, bookish, lexically richer and detached from his local culture. Jason uses colloquialisms and he uses racist and sexist language which reflects prevalent social attitudes. He speaks in a sexist way about his daughter Quentin [no relation to his brother]: ‘Once a bitch, always a bitch’ (p. 153). He speaks thusly about blacks: ‘Six niggers that can’t even stand.’ (p. 153). He speaks in the vernacular of his local culture: ‘Well, I says’ (p. 153). He is aggressive by temperament, he chases his daughter throughout this chapter and he is prone to losing his temper: ‘You’ll lose your temper with her’ (p. 153). Heraclitus said that opposites are ‘like the lyre and the bow’ and that they depend on each other to make them function. Benjy, Quentin and Jason are all brothers, but they have all shaped each other in varying ways due to their upbringing.  
            Meanwhile, Parmenides is often seen as being the polar opposite of Heraclitus, since he claimed that things did not change at all. His philosophy started with the premise that anything that we can think about either ‘is or is not’ (Waterfield, p. 50). Indeed, it is often claimed that Parmenides’ philosophy is the first attempt at ontology (Sedley 1998), the study of being and existence. Parmenides makes a distinction between ‘what is’ and ‘what-is-not.’ ‘What is’ is something that exists and something that we can predicate things onto (p. 50). Thinking and being are interchangeable and co-extensive; we only think about things that exist, we do not think of things that do not exist (p. 51). However, we can clearly think of things that do not exist and Waterfield offers the examples of unicorns and the king of Australia (p. 51). Indeed, Parmenides says the following in the eponymous Platonic dialogue Parmenides: ‘For that which is said “not to be” is known to be something all the same, and is distinguished from other things’ (Plato 2015, p. 80). This means that connotations only emerge out of things that we recognise and that we cannot think of an ‘attributeless entity’ (p. 51). We can either say that ‘X is…’ or ‘X is not…’ and the ellipses are filled with different predicates. We cannot identify ‘being’ and ‘not-being’ precisely because the predicates are often different; a thing either ‘is’ or ‘is not.’ (p. 52). Parmenides emphasises that something cannot come to existence out of nothing (p. 52). ‘What-is-not’ has no properties, so we cannot explain how it can generate the properties of ‘what-is’ (p. 52). ‘What-is-must be’ appears to be deduced from ‘what-is can be’ (p. 52). These two propositions are identical, since there can never be anything other than ‘what can be’ (p. 52). Hence, ‘what-is’ is an unchanging entity, as ‘what-is’ cannot come out of nothing.

            It is possible to find similarities between Parmenides’ philosophy and Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett. The characters in the play really do exist. For instance, Vladimir says the following about Estragon: ‘I’m glad to see you back. I thought you had gone forever’ (p. 9). Estragon clearly is something and he clearly does exist. Anything that exists, according to Parmenides, either is or is not and we can predicate things onto it. Thinking and being might be identical and we can clearly think about something that does exist. In the context of the play, Estragon is clearly there: ‘I’m glad to see you’ (p. 9). The surroundings, however, are artificial and it is unclear if they are really there: ‘“A ditch? Where?” (Without gesture) “Over there.”’ We can speak about something if it has certain attributes and we cannot speak about an attributeless entity. Estragon speaks about sleeping in a ditch without specifying where the ditch is. According to Waterfield, we can think of a unicorn or a king of Australia in our minds, but they have no basis in reality. A ditch does have a basis in reality, but Estragon does not show us where this ditch is. Parmenides says that something must come out of something and that something cannot come into being out of something that does not exist. ‘What-is-not’ has no properties, so it cannot generate ‘what-is.’ The ditch cannot exist if we cannot find the point in space where it belongs. Otherwise, like a unicorn, it is just a product of the imagination. The surroundings seem to be artificial and Godot himself seems to be artificial: ‘“You took me for Godot. […] “Who is he?” “Oh, he’s a… kind of acquaintance.” “Nothing of the kind, we hardly know him. […] Personally, I wouldn’t even know him if I saw him’ (p. 23). Vladimir hesitates when he speaks about Godot and his language is evasive, which suggests that he is making it up. He is ‘a kind of acquaintance’ and this is preceded by ellipses, which suggests that he is unsure as to what he is talking about. Later on, they attempt to predicate attributes onto Godot: ‘“What does he do, Mr. Godot?” “He does nothing, sir.” “Has a beard, Mr. Godot.” “I think it’s white, sir’ (p. 92). According to Parmenides, X either is… or is… not and the ellipses are filled with different predicates. They attempt to impute different characteristics onto Godot, but they attempt to do so with an entity that does not exist, so it is therefore talking about a product of the mind.

            Additionally, the play also deals with religion, which raises further ontological questions: ‘“Did you ever read the bible?” “Do you remember the gospels?” “I remember the maps of the Holy Land’ (p. 21). The character that they wait for, Godot, never arrives. Hence, it is not clear whether he even exists and whether he has any properties. Godot is like much religion; he is not of this world. Many critics have recognised that the play has religious resonances (Amin 2019). We cannot speak about the properties of something if we do not know what generated these properties. Similarly, the ‘Holy Land’ is something supernatural and it is not of this world. It is something that we talk about and it is something that we can attribute things to, but it is not something that we can empirically verify; it is something supernatural. Similarly, Godot never appears and he is only talked about, so, like much religion, it is unclear whether he exists.
            Parmenides line of reasoning led him to claim that ‘what-is’ – everything that we see – is unborn, imperishable, entire, unique and unchanging, which he calls ‘an unchanging singularity’ (p. 52). Thus, Parmenides repudiated all of his predecessors who tried to explain phenomena with claims about creation and change and he posed a challenge to philosophers who came after him (p. 53). Creation must take place either from ‘what-is’ or from ‘what-is-not.’ According to Parmenides, ‘what-is’ exists in an unbroken continuum, starting from the infinite past and into the infinite future. Additionally, all parts of reality are part of a greater whole. Parmenides states the following in one of Plato’s dialogues: ‘Every part is part of a whole’ (Plato 2015, p. 40). He also says the following: ‘Parts, as we affirm, have a relation to the whole’ (p. 75). As such, he claimed that there can be no creation in the past or future (p. 53). However, ‘what-is’ is not imperishable, as the same arguments eliminate perishing (p. 53). ‘What-is’ is an unchanging singularity and it is continuous in space and time and all kinds of change are not possible (p. 53). ‘What-is’ is also complete, perfect and spherical, which would lead certain people to wonder what lies beyond the sphere (p. 54). He uses the metaphor of the sphere because a sphere is the same in every direction that you look at it, both from the inside and the outside (p. 54). Finally, Parmenides also has more of a theological bent than Heraclitus. A goddess claims that the unchanging singularity is an epistemological truth (p. 54). Mortals make the mistake of following the world of the senses, but there is only the world of the unchanging singularity, which is the world of reason rather than the senses (p. 55). This is similar to Heraclitus, as he claimed that the Logos was the world of reason and that it required the use of reason rather than the senses to understand it.
            The characters in Waiting for Godot seem to be stuck in a state of stasis. Time does not seem to pass; there is no past, present or future. At one point, the characters interact thusly: “That passed the time.” “It would have passed in any case.” “Yes, but not so rapidly” (p. 94). The characters joke as to how they are stuck in the same predicament – they are always together, waiting for Godot. Indeed, they mention that they never change: ‘“Very likely. They all change. Only we can’t’ (p. 48). They often emphasise how immobile they are and how they cannot move: ‘“Let’s go.” “We can’t.” “Why not?” “We’re waiting for Godot” (p. 48). Their purpose, and the purpose of the play, is to wait for Godot. So much so that they cannot move and they are always stuck in the same point in space. The characters themselves seem to become interchangeable and it is difficult to differentiate them: ‘“We know them. […] Unless they’re not the same’ (p. 48). The sphere in Parmenides philosophy is always the same every way that you look at it. In the play, they are always talking about the same thing and they are always talking about waiting for Godot. If Godot exists, he exists outside the sphere. All change in Parmenides is eliminated and, indeed, very little change occurs throughout the play. Indeed, the play ends with the same shtick: ‘“Come back tomorrow?” “Yes.” (p. 93)’ They always carry on. Godot seems to be their salvation, even if they carry on with the same repetitive routine: ‘“We’ll hang ourselves tomorrow. Unless Godot comes.” “And if he comes.” “We’ll be saved” (p. 93). Indeed, the description of Act II reifies this: ‘Next day. Same time. Same place’ (p. 55). Nothing changes; all of the characters meet in the same place and time with the same purpose.
            Heraclitus claimed that most people are in a state of sleep and cannot use their reason to see the underlying nature of things, which he called ‘the Logos,’ which is divine. The final chapter takes place in a church, the closest contemporaneous equivalent of ‘the Logos,’ as the characters attempt to reach a divine understanding. The character Benjy relies on his senses and he cognitively impaired whilst his brother Quentin, a Harvard graduate, uses his reason so as to understand the nature of things. Everything constantly changes in Faulkner’s novel. In the first chapter, time constantly shifts back and forth in time and this is due to Benjy’s condition. It is a mental, not physical, flux. The shifts in time are usually triggered due to certain feelings. Meanwhile, Quentin’s chapter also jumps about in time and his mental health deteriorates. He also has philosophical ruminations on the nature of time and as to how individuals perceive time differently from a ‘universal clock.’ This essay also examined Heraclitus’ ideas on the nature of opposites and how they complement each other. The three principal characters in the novel – Benjy, Quentin and Jason – are opposites who complement each other. Benjy writes in a peculiar way due to his condition whilst Quentin writes in a more sophisticated and literary way. Jason, meanwhile, writes in a way that reflects the local vernacular. Their personalities are all drastically different as well, but they have all developed each other in varying ways, which is in line with Heraclitus’ views on opposites. Waiting for Godot is similar to Parmenides thought, as the play does not change very much. The surroundings seem artificial and the characters ponder whether they exist or not. They talk about things which have no basis in reality, which is similar to Parmenides’ thought on ‘what-is’ and ‘what-is-not.’ The play has some ideas on religion and the supernatural, which is not of this world and outside ‘the sphere.’ Parmenides wrote as to how things need to come out of something, they cannot come out of nothing. The characters speak about things that do not seem to be real, such as Godot. Finally, the play is like ‘the unchanging singularity’ which Parmenides wrote about, as they always meet in the same place and they always wait for Godot. These are the aspects of Heraclitus’ and Parmenides thought which this essay has identified in The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner and Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett.



















Works Cited
            Beckett, Samuel. (1978) Waiting for Godot. Originally published in 1956. London: Faber.
Burton, Stacey. (2001) ‘Rereading Faulkner: Authority, Criticism and The Sound and the Fury.’ In Modern Philology. 48: 4.
Ebileen, Maurice. (2014) ‘Benjy’s Howl: Farom Symptom to Sinthome in William Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury.’ In Figures in the Lacanian Field. 12:1.
Faulkner, William. (1995) The Sound and the Fury. Originally published in 1929. London: Vintage.
            Heraclitus. (2003) Fragments. Translated by Brooks Haxton. London: Penguin.
            Janiak, Andrew. (2020) ‘Kant’s Views on Space and Time.’ In The Stanford Encyclopaedia of Philosophy. Available from: https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/spr2020/entries/kant-spacetime/>
Kim, Yung. (2017) New Genesis: Hyperspace Revelations.
Plato. (2008) Parmenides. Translated by Benjamin Jowett. Mississippi: Gutenberg E-book.
            Sedley, David. (1990) ‘Parmenides’ in Routledge Encyclopaedia of Philosophy. Ed. Edward Craig. New York: Routledge.
Waterfield, Robin. (2000). The First Philosophers: The Pre-Socratics and the Sophists. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
            Yamin, Momen Yaseen M. (2019) Symbolic Analysis of Waiting for Godot: A Critical Comparison Between the Bible and Quran Symbols in Waiting for Godot. In Studies in Literature and Language. 19: 3.