Monday, February 27, 2006

Kissin' Cousins

Always on the lookout for something else I've been lied to about, apparently "Kissin' Cousins" ain't so bad after all. I'm not saying I'm running to a family reunion or anything (blech!), but it's always interesting how far from the truth "conventional wisdom" can be.

Given the inaccuracy of "common sense" or "conventional wisdom," I'm frankly surprised that so many people rely on it. Of course, they also rely on "faith," so perhaps I shouldn't be so surprised. Ahh, now I see the common denominator: they are both a means of substituting someone else's thinking for your own; they are both a shortcut to rational thought.

Hmmm.

I think conventional wisdom can be right--but one still has to evaluate it rationally. 40 million frenchmen can be wrong.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

On Which Sci-Fi Show Would You Feel Most At Home

You scored as Nebuchadnezzar (The Matrix). You can change the world around you. You have a strong will and a high technical aptitude. Is it possible you are the one? Now if only Agent Smith would quit beating up your friends.

Nebuchadnezzar (The Matrix)

100%

Serenity (Firefly)

75%

Moya (Farscape)

75%

Millennium Falcon (Star Wars)

63%

SG-1 (Stargate)

63%

Babylon 5 (Babylon 5)

44%

Enterprise D (Star Trek)

44%

Andromeda Ascendant (Andromeda)

38%

Galactica (Battlestar: Galactica)

31%

Deep Space Nine (Star Trek)

31%

Bebop (Cowboy Bebop)

25%

FBI's X-Files Division (The X-Files)

25%

Your Ultimate Sci-Fi Profile II: which sci-fi crew would you best fit in? (pics)
created with QuizFarm.com

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

In Defense of Mr. Darcy

For my British Lit class I had to read Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. This has become one of new favorite novels. I did a paper on Mr. Darcy for class which I turned in this evening. I'm posting it here because I like Mr. Darcy, and I like my paper. It does contain spoilers, however; so if you have not read the novel, you should skip this post until you have.


In Defense of Mr. Darcy
In Jane Austen’s novel Pride and Prejudice, the character of Mr. Darcy cannot be correctly understood until late in the story. Austen describes Mr. Darcy almost exclusively through the eyes of Elizabeth Bennet and her circle of friends. This indirect characterization of Mr. Darcy makes the reader complicit in Elizabeth Bennet’s faulty judgment of him. Mr. Darcy is first and foremost a gentleman of character and honor. He suffers from a social shyness and awkwardness that is received by others as rudeness. He undergoes a change in the novel in which he learns to be more polite in social settings. Mr. Darcy is aware that he does not always come across well in social situations, and entreats Elizabeth to “not to sketch my character at the present moment, as there is reason to fear that the performance would reflect no credit” (Austen 54). In keeping with Darcy’s wish, now that time enough has passed to get to know him, his true character will be examined.
The narrator of Pride and Prejudice is unreliable as a source of objective information about Darcy. In the first introduction to Mr. Darcy, the narrator reports “he was discovered to be proud, to be above his company, and above being pleased” (Austen 7). The narrator is not saying this as a fact about Mr. Darcy, but as a fact about what the other people at the dinner party thought about Mr. Darcy. Jane Austen is being somewhat tricky here by allowing the reader to accept as fact what others have judged based on superficial interaction with him. Mrs. Bennet concludes that Mr. Darcy is “a most disagreeable, horrid man, not at all worth pleasing” (Austen 9) and “he is ate up with Pride” (Austen 12). Elizabeth interprets each social failing of Mr. Darcy’s as yet more evidence of his general contempt for others. The narrator does give small clues that perhaps all may not be as it seems with Mr. Darcy such a when Jane says “he never speaks much unless among his intimate acquaintance. With them he is remarkably agreeable” (Austen 12). However, these clues are few and far between, and weak in contrast to the landslide consensus that Mr. Darcy is a proud, disagreeable man, and do little to offer a counter-argument. If the reader should begin to like Darcy as he begins to have feelings for Elizabeth, this emotion is frustrated by Wickham’s tale of mistreatment at Darcy’s hands (Austen 46), and thus Darcy’s character appears to be as bad as his manners. In this manner, Austen deftly prevents the reader from having an objective picture of Darcy’s character.
Mr. Darcy’s true character is far from what the reader is led to believe in the first portion of the novel. He considers himself a gentleman. For him, this means having a ruthless sense of honesty, of personal responsibility, and withstanding moral judgment. Darcy shows how important honesty is to him several times throughout the novel. For Darcy, “disguise of every sort is my abhorrence” (Austen 107). Miss Bingley’s attempts at raising her esteem in Darcy’s eyes by putting Elizabeth down draws harsh criticism from Darcy: “There is meanness in all the arts which ladies sometimes condescend to employ for captivation. Whatever bears affinity to cunning is despicable” (Austen 24). Further, Darcy admits to Bingley that he had kept from him Jane’s presence in London. This could in no way reflect positively on Darcy, but his sense of honor demanded that he be honest (Austen 203).
His sense of personal responsibility is evident in the way that he responds to the crisis brought about my Lydia’s elopement with Wickham. Since he had not made Wickham’s character known to the public before, he felt responsible for what Wickham had done (Austen 175). Out of this sense of responsibility, he paid off Wickham’s debts in order to get Wickham to marry Lydia. No one but Darcy felt he had any role in Wickham’s dishonesty. Another example of Darcy’s personal responsibility is apparent in the way he deals with the relationship with Bingley and Jane. He believes that Jane does not feel much affection for Bingley, and convinces Bingley to quit his pursuit of Jane; but when Elizabeth makes clear to Darcy the depth of Jane’s feelings for Bingley (Austen, 106), he recognizes his mistake and acts to correct it. Joseph Wiesenfarth in “The Errand of For: An Assay of Jane Austen’s Art” observes “he sees to it that Bingley returns to Netherfield and consequently to Jane” (Wiesenfarth).
Darcy’s sense of moral judgment is severe. Once he concludes that he has been morally wronged by someone, his sense of justice will not allow him to “forgive and forget.” Elizabeth challenges him on this point. She wishes to know if he is as cautious in making his judgment as he is severe in keeping it. He affirms that he is, and the reader can see that a few paragraphs later when Elizabeth insults his character on the basis of the lies that Wickham has told her. The narrator, in one of the few insights into Darcy’s internal life, tells the reader of “a tolerable powerful feeling towards her, which soon procured her pardon, and directed all his anger against another” (Austen 54).. Darcy recognizes that Wickham has misled Elizabeth and sees past his immediate anger at her insults and directs it instead toward Wickham.
If Mr. Darcy is in fact a gentleman of such virtue, it remains to be explained why Elizabeth Bennet and others see him as being so proud and disagreeable. In part, this image of Darcy is justified. Darcy himself admits “I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit” (Austen 202). Even so, this does not suffice as a full explanation of his initial unpopularity. What then are the other components?
The key to understanding Darcy lies in his social awkwardness. Jane had earlier alluded to his amiability with his close friends; but he appears shy, and unable to express himself well with people he does not know. He is often unable to think of anything to say. At the Nertherfield ball, Darcy asks Elizabeth to dance. His silence is so exasperating to Elizabeth that “after a pause of some minutes” Elizabeth is obliged to comment “It is your turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy” (Austen 52). Elizabeth does not interpret his silence as shyness however. Marcia McClintock Folsom observes in “Pride and Prejudice: Past, Present, Future” that “Her comment is intended as a reproach to him for what she thinks is his failure to meet the requirements of common civility” (Folsom). Darcy’s poor communication skills are also apparent when he attempts to compliment Elizabeth on her enjoyment of reading. He offers as a description of an ideal kind of lady the virtues that he sees in Elizabeth. His comments are so vague and general however, that what Elizabeth hears is a description of such high standards that no one could match them (Austen 28).
Mr. Darcy undergoes a significant change throughout the novel, and his pride is part of what drives the change. He is aware that he does not come across well to many people at first, but he is not aware of how offensive he actually is to other people. Even during his proposal to Elizabeth, while he is insulting her and her family, he fully expects her to accept his proposal (Austen 104-108). His pride in his stature as a gentleman blinds him how others see him. Elizabeth’s rejection is a devastating shock. In particular he is struck by Elizabeth’s statement that he had not “behaved in a … gentleman-like manner” (Austen 107). “She saw him start at this, but he said nothing.” Mr. Darcy’s own statement on this scene bears special attention:
“The recollection of what I then said, of my conduct, my manners, my expressions during the whole of it, is now, and has been [for] many months, inexpressibly painful to me. Your reproof, so well applied, I shall never forget: ‘had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner.’ Those were your words. You know not, you can scarcely conceive, how they have tortured me” (Austen 201).
Elizabeth’s statement was a slap in the face that awoke him to how egregiously he had betrayed his ideals. He was deeply ashamed. That he had not felt this shame before shows that he had not been aware that people saw him in this light. His desire to be a gentleman—his own sense of virtue and honor—drives him to give full attention to his public manners. The reader first sees this change in him when Elizabeth visits Pemberley. As Dvora Zlicovoci noted in “Reversal in Pride and Prejudice” “The great courtesy, warm hospitality, and attentions showered on Elizabeth and the Gardiners are clear evidence that Darcy has taken to heart Elizabeth's strictures regarding his presumptuous, ungentleman-like behavior” (Zlicovoci).
Mr. Darcy spends the first two-thirds of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice being maligned by practically everyone. To be sure, his own rudeness encourages and justifies some of the criticisms levied against him. However, the conclusion that he is not a gentleman is unfair. His rudeness is largely unknown to him and is in part a consequence of his shyness with people he does not know well. When his collision with Elizabeth Bennet reveals it to him, he sets out immediately to change, and he succeeds. This dichotomy between his actual character and his personal rudeness drives Elizabeth Bennet’s, and the reader’s, prejudice against him. The unreliable narration leaves the reader at the mercy of Elizabeth Bennet’s judgment of Mr. Darcy, thus making the reader complicit in her prejudice. When Darcy’s true character is revealed, the result is that the reader feels some of the shame of misjudging Mr. Darcy, thereby granting emotional reality to part of Jane Austen’s theme.

Works Cited
Austen, Jane. Pride and Prejudice. New York: W. W. Norton & Company Inc., 2001.

McClintock, Marcia. “Pride and prejudice: past, present, future.” Persuasions: The Jane Austen Journal 22 (2000); 115. Literature Resource Center. Gale. Spartanburg Technical Coll. Lib. Discus. 6 February 2006.

Wiesenfarth, Joseph. “The Plot of Pride and Prejudice.” The Errand of Form: An Assay of Jane Austen’s Art; 60-85. Literature Resource Center. Gale. Spartanburg Technical Coll. Lib. Discus. 6 February 2006.

Zelicovici, Dvora. “Reversal in Pride and Prejudice.” Studies in the Humanities Journal 12, no. 2; 106-14. Literature Resource Center. Gale. Spartanburg Technical Coll. Lib. Discus. December 1984.

The Closer

I've been watching a new cop drama called "The Closer" recently. It centers around Deputy Police Chief Brenda Johnson--a Georgia transplant to L.A.. Her speciality is interrogations.

The show is intriguing because very rarely does the viewer have any real idea what she is thinking. It's written in such a way that you see her delegating investigative tasks to other officers, all the while aggregating the results of their investigations. Often the other officers, and the viewers, will have one theory of the crime, and then will discover that Johnson has a completely different theory--one which is revealed over the course of an interrogation.

Most interesting is the interrogations themselves. The episodes often revolve around cases where there is not much in the way of physical evidence. Johnson's task in these cases is to not only solve the crime, but to extract a confession from the murderer. She has to do this while navigating the hamstringing of Miranda. She has to set up the interrogation in such a way that the murderer doesn't want a lawyer, and that the murderer ends up admitting to much more than they plan to. The show is reminiscent of "Columbo" in this way due to its emphasis on verbal chess. It is further reminiscent because of the way that Johnson uses her accent to her advantage, playing "country dumb" to get her suspects to reveal their hands.

Unlike Law & Order, which I also love btw, the focus for Johnson is to get the murderer to admit to what he actually did--as against using legal maneuvering to convince a jury that he did.

Aside from the crime-solving, she also has to deal with the office politics. She is a woman brought in the from the other side of the country to head a division. The police captain under her is resentful because it was a position that he wanted. The detectives that work directly for her are mistrustful because she is an outsider. These elements are not used to tout feminist messages as might first be imagined. Instead, these conflicts are integrated into the rest of what she faces in solving crimes. Over the first season it has been a pleasure to watch as she establishes her authority over the envious police captain, and earns the grudging respect--and then admiration--of her detectives.

So watch it!

Unlikely Ayn Rand Sighting

Silly sitcom discusses Atlas Shrugged: http://tinyurl.com/exzkj

Valentine's Day, Duty, and Sexuality

Valentine’s Day, Duty, and Sexuality

My friend the Philosophical Detective has some pretty strong feelings about Valentine’s Day, which he writes about here and here.  In addition, he as written an interesting post regarding sexuality that I’ve been meaning to respond to. I think he’s on the right track re: sexuality, but we part ways significantly on the subject of Valentine’s Day.

Sexuality

In my opinion, the core of sexuality lies in understanding what is meant by masculinity and feminity. The Detective himself is led to this question and he attempts to list various things which are “masculine” and “feminine” and identify common denominators. I think this is a good way to go about it, but when I was asking these questions I came at it from a different direction. Here goes:

“Masculine” and “feminine” are polar concepts. What I mean by “polar” is that each half of the pair is used to contrast the other, and thus give the other meaning. Neither can exist on their own epistemologically, and each has meaning only in contradistinction to the other.

In the most general terms, “masculine” means “of or pertaining to male-ness,” while feminine means “of or pertaining to female-ness.” But what are “male-ness” and “female-ness.” Since we’re really just talking about humans, I’m going to speak about what these terms mean for people. I’ll leave aside the matriarchal hyena’s and whatnot.

The most obvious differences in men and women are physical. Men and women are different in their genitalia of course, but also in their size, shape, body mass / muscle ratio, etc.. Most men are taller, more massive, and stronger than women. Yes, there are some women that are taller, more massive, etc. than some men—but this is not true generally. The point I’m trying to get at here is that generally, at a perceptual level, we are all aware that men are taller, more muscularly massive, and stronger than women. We associate these qualities with “male-ness,” thus they are “masculine.”

By way of comparison, women are generally shorter, less muscularly massive, less strong, and much curvier than men. There’s also the fact that they can bear children. Yep, that’s feminine too. These are facts that are open to immediate perceptual observation. Theses facts are intimately bound to what we think of when we think “male” or “female.”

There are psychological differences between the sexes as well. I’m not going into detail here because I can support my theories without this information, and because it would be difficult to lay my hands on the materials that show it right now.  I’ll probably take this point up in a separate post some time.

Anyway, it should be clear that at least some of “masculine” and “feminine” are tied to direct observation. Indeed, part of why they’re so hard to talk about is because they are first-level concepts. It’s like talking about “red” or “blue.” You can’t really do anything but point.

Here’s where I think it gets interesting. We don’t really become self-aware until our teens. Our adolescence is when we really start to question who we are, what we’ve been taught, our own worth, etc. In addition to this, we also have the onset of puberty which heightens our awareness of our own body. In answering the question of “who I am,” we must first answer the question of “what I am.” I am a human being, obviously; but what does that mean? Philosophy provides the answer to that question. In addition to being a human being, I am a male or female—what does that mean? Observation provides the answer to that question.

It’s easy to see that for someone to have good self-esteem they must understand the value of being human; they must appreciate their own rational faculty and use it. They must evaluate themselves according to human standards, and revel in their humanity. I believe that the same is true for their gender. To have good self-esteem, one must also appreciate their own sex, and evaluate themselves according to sexual standards, and revel in their own sexuality.

Being human is not polar. We can distinguish ourselves from inanimate objects, birds, trees, etc.. Being of a particular gender is polar. We can only distinguish ourselves sexually from the opposite gender. Our sense of ourselves qua male or female is only possible in the context of interaction with the opposite sex. To experience ourselves as a rational being, we must think, act on the basis of our thought to produce the requirements of our survival, and consume the product of our effort. To experience ourselves as male or female, we must interact with the opposite sex. In the presence of the opposite sex, the fact of one’s gender is always there as an undercurrent, heightening or own awareness of ourself.

Another observation: the observations about the relative size and strength of men vs. women has some psychological consequences for both men and women, but moreso on women. Personal safety is more of concern for women when interacting with men than vice versa. Pairing the average woman with the average man puts her in a situation where the man could overpower her and harm her. Yes, a woman could have a gun for self-protection. But observe that we do not advise men to take self-defense classes so that they’ll feel safe walking through a parking lot at night.

Still another observation: the act of sex itself puts a woman in an extremely vulnerable position. Consider that she is alone with someone nearly twice her size and strength who is atop, around, and even inside her body. She is utterly at his mercy in this context. Things such as who likes to be on top don’t matter in this context. Even if she is on top, it is still within the man’s power to force her to do anything he wants.  What does this mean for the rational woman then?  How could she ever enjoy sex if this is the situation she has to be in?

For many women, this vulnerability is the very idea of good sex. Consider the cover of just about every romance novel ever published: Man bending the woman backward over his arm, her head thrown back, hair hanging behind her… Consider the popularity of “the Hollywood Kiss”: “Woman’s arms around man’s neck, man’s arms around woman’s waist, man 4-8 inches taller than woman.” Women seem to love the idea of submitting to a man’s power. Many women have a “rape fantasy,” in which they are not actually rape, but are rather the victims of “surprised, forceful sex,” as a friend of mine put it. Of course, she quickly qualified that it would have to be with her boyfriend—but the idea of his “coming out of nowhere” and “taking her” was very exciting to her.

What about men? How many men have not enjoyed pinning a woman’s arms down, or behind her back, or sinking their fingers in her head, tilting her face up for a kiss? All of these actions are rife with a flavor of dominance. We enjoy it too.

This sense of vulnerability is not always pleasing for women. Being alone with a man she doesn’t know in a parking garage at night is not likely to be a pleasant experience for most women. They are likely to feel trepidation, fear, and a strong desire to get to their car as quickly as possible, make sure they’re not being followed, etc. The guy probably doesn’t think at thing about it.

The factor that makes the difference for women is “trust.” If a woman trusts a man, then she can be alone with him without fear for her personal safety. She can be submissive or vulnerable to him without fear for her personal safety. She can revel in her own vulnerability (femininity) relative to his power (masculinity) without contradiction. Sex in this context becomes not just a celebration of self, but a celebration of self qua woman. The same is true for men.

Suddenly some other things start to make more sense, like why do men woo women? Why do the asking-for-numbers, the dinner-paying, the door-holding, etc.? In an attempt to gain the woman’s trust. When we send a woman flowers, or hold the door, or whatever, we are sending her a message: “See, you can trust me. Your happiness, your welfare, your pleasure—these are my values. I won’t hurt you.”

It’s not surprise to me that this mimics another common way that people enjoy sex: the slow seduction. In my opinion the slow seduction model (“dinner, candles, soft music, etc.”) mimics the early courtship ritual.

I can’t offer a survey of all the different ways that men and women rationally enjoy sex. I’m just offering these examples to illustrate a connection between observable physiological differences and their associated psychological consequences. Further, validating the concepts of “masculinity” and “femininity” still leaves a lot of room for optionality in male-female relations  Again, I’m just describing some common scenarios to concretize my ideas.

Valentine’s Day

Valentine’s Day has been corrupted by altruism. The Detective says this, and I agree completely. This Fark headline shows that in Japan the same joyless duty-bound attitude is taken by women toward men, with the same resentful results. Seems altruism can find a thousand ways to make something beautiful, ugly. However, this doesn’t mean that there’s anything wrong with Valentine’s Day—just that there’s something wrong with altruism. To pervert something as wonderful as romantic love by turning it into a duty is more revolting than I have words for, but I’m not willing to give up Valentine’s Day to the altruists: I want my day to celebrate romantic love!

So what is the real meaning of Valentine’s Day? It’s like Christmas—only better. Christmas is great because it gives you a chance to focus on letting your loved ones know exactly how much you appreciate them—with loot. Valentine’s Day offers the same thing—but more specifically. It is an opportunity for you and your most-loved one to celebrate the most important of all your relationships—your romance with one another—preferably with loot and sex! Flowers and Candy are properly just symbols. Their only meaning is like the meaning of a Christmas present—a token that represents something much deeper.

The Detective is right: romance is “a smile, a conversation, a walk, a dance.” Valentine’s Day is properly a celebration of romance. It’s an opportunity to take a look at all the million different ways we love someone, highlight the whole experience, and say “you know the past year of washing dishes together, taking care of the kids, going to the movies, cuddling on the couch, etc.?—I love that, and I love you, and I want more.”  It’s taking time out to focus on all those small moments as a whole, and to express how important those moments are to you. And yes, celebrating romance is romantic.

Speaking personally

I don’t have a significant other in my life right now. Even so today is a happy day for me. I can’t celebrate an actual romance in my life, but I celebrate the idea of romance. I celebrate the level of intimacy and companionship that romance represents. I celebrate my capacity for it, and my worthiness of it. I abhor the duty-bound mentality that most people approach this holiday with—but it’s too important to me to give it up to the likes of them.

Thanks for reading.