Throughout the first pages of "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest", by Ken Kesey, the narrator makes repetitive references to some kind of fog that creates a thick layer of skim milk material that obstacles the patient's view and listening skills. This fog comes from a fog machine that is started, apparently, every time the Big Nurse needs to get hold of a patient out of control. Having in mind the narrator's schizophrenia, it is challenging to understand the fog's nature; is it palpable or is it symbolic?
For example, the first time the fog was mentioned was when the narrator suffered a panic attack before getting shaved. He was seized by a group of people and suddenly the fog machine was started and he could not see six inches in front of him nor listen to anything else but the Big Nurse taking control over the situation.
Another time the fog was mentioned was in page 37, where the Chief says "Before noontime they're at the fog machine again but they haven't got it turned up full, it's not so thick but what I can see if I strain real hard." Bearing in mind that the person talking is schizophrenic, I believe the fog machine may be some type of medicine forced on patients that will limit their vision and senses in order to make it easier to manipulate them. There is a scene in which the narrator says, "On rare occasions, some fool might ask what he's being required to swallow" (page 30). I connect this to the fog and conclude that the red pills enforced on patients, and for which the nurses refuse to give an explanation, are part of a series of tranquilizers given to patients. These tranquilizers, either because they are needed on behalf of a critical patient or because the nurses are careless upon their excessive use, are the cause of the fog the narrator claims to suffer from every once in a while.
The fog does not only represent the physical impediment the patient is suffering from but also the mental repercussions it causes. The fact that nurses implement these type of measures on their patients demonstrates how the mental hospital they live in is not the democratic place they claim they are but rather a systematic space in which patients are subdued to clinical authority and expected to act as society wants them to act. The nurses seem annoyed by the patients and react harshly to the slightest hint of discomfort on their behalf; they use the fog in order to make their jobs easier and simply have the patients subdued into a state of strained vision instead of having to fight against them or help them understand the reasons of their expected behavior.Yes, patients might be insane, but from what has been described there has not really been a need to make use of the fog and, nevertheless, there it is.
domingo, 23 de septiembre de 2012
domingo, 16 de septiembre de 2012
Questioning the Bible
Watching Waiting for Godot was a very different experience
from the one I had while reading the play. Watching certain details and
listening to specific parts of the conversation between Vladimir and Estragon
made me notice things I had ignored before.
After reading the play, I hardly remembered or even gave
importance to the beginning of the story. However, watching the movie made this
initial scene a lot more relevant in my afterthoughts. For example, I had not
realized the importance of Didi’s hat; the way in which he takes it off and
examines it after certain thoughts. I had also forgotten the fact that Didi and
Gogo make reference to the past; they talk about how they “were” and where they
had “traveled” as if some unspoken event had changed the nature of their lives.
Another thing that popped up to me was Didi’s frightfulness towards dreams.
Nevertheless, what surprised me the most was how Didi straightforwardly questioned
the Bible. To me, the most concerning of these realizations is the latter.
I remember reading something about Vladimir and Estragon making
some vague allusion to God and perhaps a Biblical name. Nonetheless, watching
the movie made me realize that these references were not vague at all. In fact,
Didi is pretty straightforward and wonders, or rather challenges, why only one
of the four gospels talks about a thief being saved. Moreover, Didi questions
why it is that we, the human race, believe that single gospel and not the other
three. Not only is it one evangelist of four who makes reference to a thief
being saved, but two do not even mention thieves and the third says both
thieves abused Jesus, or our Savior, because he would not save them. And why is
it that men believe the version of that single, merciful evangelist? Is it
because we are afraid of believing the opposite? Because following any of the
other two versions would slightly change the perception we have had of Jesus
for the past 2,000 years. That would not be easy at all. Furthermore, believing
on any of the other two versions would either mean that Jesus was crucified
alone, that is, it would make the story less credible due to the differing
versions, or it would mean Jesus was not actually a Savior or at least not
forgiving enough.
The reflection one could make on this trivial piece of the
dialogue is everlasting. However, Estragon closes the topic with the most
convincing of all conclusions, “People are bloody ignorant apes” (Page 7). As
Thomas Gray once put it, “Ignorance is bliss.” The less we dwell on the
subject, the happier we will be. I feel a lot more tranquil believing on the
sort of established evangelist version we have adapted rather than stressing on
the implicit meaning of the other two versions (and the fact that one of the
two is supported by half the number of gospels). People are bloody ignorant
apes who are willing to believe on what is morally correct regardless of
whether it is true or not. However, in this case, being ignorant gave men a
reason to live for and a set of morals to follow. Let us not question the Bible
too much Didi, we might not find its unveiling secrects very pleasant.
domingo, 9 de septiembre de 2012
Waiting For Who?
“Waiting for
Godot” by Samuel Beckett is possibly the most confusing play I have ever read.
Although noticeably funny, the play’s simplicity suggests that there is a lot
more to it than what you read. For example Godot, who is he? Or rather, what is
he? And why do Vladimir and Estragon keep waiting for him? Do they know him?
And why doesn’t Godot he ever come?
To me, Godot is
the personification of God. Why he never comes I cannot understand. However,
the fact that Vladimir and Estragon are waiting for him somehow demonstrates
how men in the real world are also always waiting for a God that might never
come. What seems foolish though is how Vladimir and Estragon keep returning to
the spot where they are to wait for Godot despite the fact that he never comes.
Are men like that? Do we keep waiting for God even when we know deep inside
that he might never come? I believe so. The problem is, why do we? Is it
because we are afraid of abandoning the illusion that he might come or is it
because we are afraid of what he might do if he did come and we were not there
waiting for him? But then what kind of a benevolent God is he if he were to do
something to us if he did not find us waiting for him?
Nevertheless, my
questions go beyond the play’s title. The tree: What does it represent? Why did
it grow leaves all of a sudden? Does it
represent life, the fact that it is a blossoming tree, or does it represent
death, the fact that Didi and Gogo want to hang themselves from it?
Furthermore,
Pozzo and Lucky intrigue me. Their love/hate relationship reminds me of the old
guy’s relationship to his cocker in “The Stranger” by Albert Camus. Why does
Lucky keep up with that? What sort of human being is he? And why does Pozzo
become blind all of a sudden?
Finally, perhaps
the most enduring question I have regards a tiny detail from the book. Except from
Vladimir, why can’t anyone seem to remember anything from the day before? More
importantly, why is Vladimir the only one who can remember?
Although the
play is fun to read and its random dialogues and simple occurrences cause the
reader to giggle, I believe I will not be able to grasp the play’s basic
meaning and message before I am able to answer these questions. To me, the play
resembles some kind of critique towards men and their blindness and weakness
and everlasting hope of being saved. Nevertheless, I prefer to answer these
thoughts before solidifying my shallow verdict.
domingo, 2 de septiembre de 2012
Foolish, Unreasonable Existence
“The
irrationality of a thing is no argument against its existence, rather a
condition of it.”
- Friedrich Nietzsche
Is existence absurd? Albert Camus’
novel, “The Stranger”, delivers an interesting approach to this and many other
existentialist verdicts through the life and upcoming death of his character,
Monsieur Meursault. Notwithstanding the fact that reading a phrase like
“Existence is essentially absurd” may cause readers to giggle, reflect, or cry
in despair, we can all agree that there is a reason for the statement. We all
live, we all die; what is the point of being in a world where you will soon be
forgotten and where your 70-year lifespan will have no effect on the infinite
prevalence of the universe?
Several incidents throughout “The Stranger” attempt to touch on this existentialist conviction. The very beginning of the book, describing, or rather simply stating, Maman’s death is the base to realizing there is no difference whatsoever in her dying yesterday, today, or tomorrow. Camus expresses this sort of indifference towards existence by opening his novel with the ever-controversial declaration, “Maman died today. Or yesterday maybe, I don’t know” (Page 3). He again strengthens this point in page 24, where Meursault is pictured wondering to himself, “It occurred to me that another Sunday was over… Maman was buried now, I had to go back to work tomorrow, and that really, nothing had changed.” Nothing had changed except that his mother had died, which many might consider the most painful day in the life of a reasonable human being. However, what Camus is trying to say is that life goes on, another Sunday goes by, some work is to be done the next day, and so on. The world did not stop because Maman died, so why dwell helplessly over it?
In order to move on, I must include what the definition of absurd is according to the Oxford dictionary: “Absurd – unreasonable, illogical, inappropriate, foolish.” But why may men believe their existence is illogical or foolish? Camus once again approaches this ideology when Meursault decides to kill an Arab man for no apparent reason. Apparently, the sun was hitting him too hard. What Camus is trying to deliver through this is how one’s life is meaningless; one moment you are in the sand, the next a random French existentialist decides to shoot you four times. Existence is illogical; we are all doomed at the end and, additionally, we have to live with the fear and incapability of doing anything to prevent it. I believe existentialists hold on to this philosophy as a way to let go of their human instinct against the inevitability of death. They claim existence is absurd, so why give any importance to it?
Nevertheless, Camus makes an interesting and rather differing point on this ideal at the end of his novel, when Meursault is condemned to being beheaded. Camus offers the reader a powerful image of the ever-existentialist adult who now faces a scheduled death and finds himself unable to ignore it. Camus’ message goes from being extremely existentialist to showing that men will still be men, and that as absurd as existence may be (demonstrated by the implied fact that Meursault still dies), men are naturally incapable of accepting this. What men should do though, is reach a personal point at which they feel satisfied with what they have done in life and open up to the fact that life does have an end. That is what Meursault ends up concluding while holding to a minute hope of being saved; that same hope we all have and which convinces us we are immortal.
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